October 30, 2015

Book Blitz! Excerpt & Giveaway: Zia, The Teenage Zombie & the Undead Diaries



Zia would give anything to be a typical teenager... again. Heck, she’d settle for being a vampire or smelly werewolf, but a member of the walking dead? The lowliest of all the monsters? No way! Nothing is worse than being a skin-sloughing, limb-losing, maggot-housing, brain-craving undead girl. Nothing.

It wouldn’t be so bad if humans didn’t insist on “Living Impaireds” wearing bands to keep their insatiable appetites in check. And if LIs want to coexist with humans, then rules must be followed, no matter how ludicrous they might seem. Why do undead teenagers have to go to high school anyway?

Zia does her best to blend in and go unnoticed, but when a new group of LIs are bused in from another school and she finds herself part of a growing horde, all bets are off.

Besides, rules are meant to be broken—especially when an unbeating heart is pulled in two different directions.



It’s weird to have a finger in my pocket. No one else knows it’s there, and only Lewis notices it’s missing from my hand.

"Umm... you had five fingers on that hand this morning, didn’t you?" He takes a big bite from his lamb sandwich—his usual. It’s chilly outside, but not too bad, and so we sit together on a bench under the school marquee.

"Yeah." I reach in my pocket and pull it out to show him.

Lewis is a good friend. He doesn’t even back away. "That’s nasty." He takes another bite of his sandwich.

"I know." I shove the wrinkled digit back in my pocket. "Eli says he can help me fix it."

He tips his head and raises an eyebrow. "Eli? As in Eli Olsen?"

I nod before I sip at my thermos. Gooey chunks of meaty flesh and blood slide down my throat.

"I thought he was expelled for punching Marcus in the face last week." Marcus is a vamp—a mean one, at that. He’s a least six-foot-five and weighs over two hundred pounds. I can’t imagine Eli punching him in the face. He’s not tall enough, for one thing, and it would have surly gotten him killed for another. Since Eli is still alive, it seems like something is wrong with the story.

"I have no idea. He’s here, that’s all I know."

"So how the heck is he going to fix your finger?"

"Not sure. He told me to meet him in Mr. T’s room after school."

"The wood shop class?" Lewis cringes. "There’s a lot of stuff in there that could be used to kill you. Are you sure that’s a good idea?"

I shrug and take another sip from my thermos. It always tastes better at 98.7 degrees. I settle for room temperature. "If I show up at home without a finger, my dad will start crying again. He already feels bad enough for doing this to me. If I can’t get it fixed somehow, he’ll just end up feeling even worse."

"What about the school nurse?" He pops some strips of uncooked bacon in his mouth.

"How would she fix it? With a band-aid? Besides, we both know she would never help someone like me. She’s too afraid." I slurp what’s left at the bottom of my thermos. It’s never enough and I’m still hungry.

"You’re probably right. Well, I guess it can’t hurt to see what Eli can do. Worst case scenario, he ends up killing you."

"Gee, thanks."

Lewis pats me on the back before he stands and makes a jump shot, landing his sandwich wrapper in the garbage can thirty feet away. Too bad they won’t let him on the basketball team. Our one-win-in-five-games team could use his help. Humans are stupid sometimes.

He starts to walk away but turns to look at me once more. "If you don’t make it out alive, I sure am going to miss you." He smiles, and his dimples make their appearance on his handsome face.

Too bad he’s a werewolf.

Moreover, too bad I’m a zombie.



I hear voices. Tiny fictional people sit on my shoulders and whisper their stories in my ear. Instead of medicating myself, I decided to pick up a pen, write down everything those voices tell me, and turn it into a book. I’m not crazy. I’m an author.
For the most part, I write contemporary Young Adult novels. However, through a writing exercise that spiraled out of control, I found myself writing about zombies terrorizing the Wild Wild West—and loving it. My zombies don’t sparkle, and they definitely don’t cuddle. At least, I wouldn’t suggest it. 
I live on the benches of the beautiful Wasatch Mountains with two lovely children, one teenager, and a very patient husband. I graduated from Utah State University with a B.A. degree in English, not because of my love for the written word, but because it was the only major that didn’t require math. I can’t spell, and grammar is my arch nemesis. But they gave me the degree, and there are no take backs. 
As a child, I never sucked on a pacifier; I chewed on a pencil. I’ve been writing that long. It has only been the past few years that I’ve pursued it professionally, forged relationships with other like-minded individuals, and determined to make a career out of it.



Excerpt & Giveaway! Troll by Ashley C. Harris




At the age of sixteen, Abby is undergoing major household changes. Her mom is getting ready to remarry and her new step-brother is driving her insane. She is just trying to keep herself busy with school and her part-time job when a most deliciously handsome stranger moves to her little seaside town and won't leave her alone.

New arrival Wilhelm is unlike any other student at Abby’s school. His emerald eyes and tattooed body don’t truly reveal what he really is: a creature emerged from thousands of miles underground, seeking revenge, treasure, and a key that once belonged to an old enemy – a key Abby wears suspended from a chain around her neck. Why she has it is a mystery that Wilhelm will need to solve, and fast, in order to defeat a powerful mortal adversary.

As an attraction between Abby and Wilhelm develops, more creatures like Wilhelm are drawn from beneath the ground to Abby’s town; wreaking havoc as they offer Abby’s classmates the fulfillment of their deepest desires. Will Abby and her new family survive as a game of magical warfare is unleashed? Her ability to reverse Wilhelm’s bargain depends on it.



Seconds went by and he found nothing, except a distraction. It wasn’t the human’s heartbeat drumming steadily on the second floor that he found unnerving, most likely it was the fact that she was reading a rhyme aloud – that wasn’t a human thing as much as it was a trolls’: “A kiss was made,” he heard her voice whisper, trying to ignore it. “A rose was dropped.” He looked up when she said the word rose. “A heart was snapped in half. The love of your life has left you in a world that’s dark and black.”

He moved toward the sound. Perhaps she was really one of his kind in disguise, here to spy on him.

“Thunder sounds, the sky turns gray, there is nothing recognizable at all. The love of your life has left you in a world that’s sad and small.” The words made him think about Helena, his Helena, kissing Klaus, while he had her fully under his control. It was sickened him and pissed him off.

He crept down the bookcase where a girl was reading from a book out loud, unaware of his presence. She was definitely not a troll, he concluded when he got a good look at her, growing bored. “But then the sun comes out. A rainbow appears. An angel has come to tell you, your hope is stronger than fear.”

“Are you sure that’s what an angel would say?” he asked.

Her blue, puppy-like eyes shot up, her body nearly jumping out of its skin from being startled. “Where did you come from?” she squeaked as she looked around, her heartbeat doubling.

“About five shelves over,” he answered as he looked her up and down. She was a tiny, petite thing compared to himself, with light brown hair and blushed fair skin that made her blue eyes pop. She also had four freckles on one cheek and three on the other. This human was both plain looking but also strangely captivating compared to others in the building.

“Oh, I see, and were you standing there the entire time?” she asked, her free hand going to her hip, as she tried to stand up straighter, trying to seem tall and authoritative. He could see she was irritated at being disturbed, and that was the most entertaining thing of all.

“Yes, is that a problem?” he asked with a smile.

“Yes!”

“I’m sorry … I thought you worked here. I was just looking for some help,” he lied. Did she think he wouldn’t notice the fact that she was standing next to a filing cart and wearing a library badge that read: Abigail? That, and the feelings of servitude and obligation that he could smell all over her. 

“Oh, I – I do,” she said, as if this had just occurred to her. She was unable to wipe the annoyance and unease off her face, as she looked down his arm, judging him because of his numerous tattoos. Humans...so sadly sheltered. “How can I help you?”

He didn’t answer. This irritated her more.

“The college used book section is downstairs, and so is the art and tattoo section,” she suggested, trying to guess his reason for pestering her.

“Do I really look old enough to be in college to you?” he asked, half insulted because college years for humans were death years for his kind.

“Yes,” she said honestly as she took in his tall, six-foot-five frame. “You look at least twenty.”

“Nope, time to get your eye’s checked maybe?” he asked, stepping closer, letting her guess his age; this seemed like a game she didn’t want to play.

“Well you’re definitely a least eighteen,” she replied as she turned part of her body away from him, her eyes back to her books; as if being eighteen put him in a different category than her. “You’d have to be to get a tattoo, now is—”

“Or maybe I had really cool parents,” he cut her off. “And I’m seventeen. That was an enchanting poem you read by the way. Who was it by?”

He took another step closer as she took a step back, nearly colliding into a bookshelf. “Amber Paris.” She handed him the book she’d read from and appeared much more comfortable when he was looking at it and not her. He examined it with only partial interest. “She got it published when she was fifteen.” she seemed to know all about the subject.

“Well, that explains why it’s so good, then. People always come up with their best work when they’re young. I bet at twelve her poems were even better.”

Each word he spoke was like a hook, spinning magic to pull her in to him even as she wanted to get away. “Where are you from, exactly?” she asked as she noticed what he was wearing; heavy jeans instead of the more typically Floridian surfer shorts, and a thick dark green shirt that went down to his elbows, only showing off half of his tattoos. Probably weird attire for the hottest months of Florida, but as a troll he craved warmth and hated the cold. “Are you from up north?”

“No, not at all,” he said, offering no other explanation. “So, why read a poem aloud? What about you does it relates to?” he asked with a grin, it was a pretty personal question and yet she’d have to tell him. Soon his powers if he kept talking to her would be able to push Abby to do all sorts of things... for a short time anyway, until a price was paid.

He read over the beginning lines of the poem again. “A kiss was made, a rose was dropped.” The words tripped him up, making him think about Rosabel’s last feelings before she died. Feelings that held a deep meaning for him, letting him know that even though she had never been able to claim him as an inheritor, she still had cared about him more than any other treasure.

His eyes could have almost teared up just thinking about his murdered mother. Trolls could be insanely emotional – good thing for him he was better at shielding how he felt than most. He turned his face away, getting a hold of himself, as the little human rambled, her voice a comforting distraction.

“I don’t think it relates to me. I just write poetry so my teacher asked me to look over another writer’s work.”

“Because maybe you want to be like this writer, famous and well liked?” he stated to test if her interest in the author was shallow, sensing what she didn’t even know was one of her most hidden desires. Humans could be so naive about their own ambitions, but these were easily recognized by trolls. This one clearly had no idea what her body and mind were capable of yearning for.

“No,” she lied, as if insulted. “That’s crazy. I’ve never wanted that; it’s just an assignment.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, as her hidden wants started calling to him – they tasted satisfying too. Her craving for freedom, he could use that to trap her, and then trap all the humans here. He’d have some real fun after a day of anger and sorrow as he played with these fools until they broke.

Leave her alone! a small boy’s voice suddenly screamed into his ear. He turned around, startled, only to find no one behind him.

“Are you okay?” he heard Abby ask him. His face must have looked haunted. That’s when he sensed where the book that he had been searching for was. 

“Yes.” Finding the book and his key were far more important than this girl or having a little fun. He looked back in Abby’s direction, now needing to get rid of her. She looked nervous and still confused by his presence, still not knowing why she was continuing to talk to him. He decided in that moment to show her the kind of mercy and kindness his mother Rosabel should have received. Besides, he really didn’t feel like killing anyone innocent so the knights couldn’t find them later. 

Before she could move, he reached out and gripped her shoulder, sending heat through her body, making her look deep into his eyes. “If you ever see me or anything like me again, anyone that has markings like this…,” he lifted his sleeve so she could take in his entire arm. His tattoos on it came to life and moved hypnotically, numbing her senses and making her go into a trance. “… you probably shouldn’t trust us. You should be smart and stay away from anyone like myself that you ever come in contact with.”

And with those words, he had given her a precious gift he hadn’t given any other human in a very long time. If any more trolls came along she’d stay out of their way now, wanting nothing to do with them. He watched her walk off in a beautiful daze. She’d certainly stay away from him if he changed his mind in the next few moments and decided to pursue her after all. Trolls often did change their minds about most things. He imagined her lips would have tasted pretty good, for a human anyway. Her body would have most likely felt nice …

Please leave her alone! he heard the boy scream again, the voice coming from his head. He was hearing a past memory, one that was too dangerous for him to think about. He ran his fingers along the book spines one more time. They led him right to the familiar texture he had been looking for. To the very storybook a young knight had checked out and carried in his backpack years before Wilhelm had found him.



Author and film director Ashley C. Harris resides in Florida. Ashley was first recognized for her edgy writing and unique film work when she wrote and directed the teenage film "Lines". Lines was the first feature film in the world captured using only Mac Laptops. 

In 2013 she teamed up with Barclay Publicity to release the first in a new young adult novel series, "Shock Me". Ashley then went on to author eight other titles, in multiple genres, as she also worked behind-the-scenes on a morning news show that aired on ABC. In 2014, four of Ashley's books landed on the Amazon's Best Selling Top-Ten-List. In 2015, she received her first publishing deal for "Troll", a KindleScout novel winner. 

When Ashley is not dreaming up new manuscripts and working on film sets, she loves spending time with her family, obsessing about biblical mysteries, and watching lots of Doctor Who. Keep an eye out for her newest releases!




Cover Reveal & Giveaway! Velicious, Part Two by Shelique Lize




Justice Labelle has lost too much in this war of monster and men, and it needs to stop now. After her run in with Erin, which left her lying in a hospital bed, black and bloody blue, Justice is no longer going to sit by and simply accept the twisted hand, that has been dealt. Especially since she now has superhuman powers, all thanks to her being a Doll. Her one and only passion-- To get through College and practice law at a top tier firm, is fading from her grasp and its all because of Calvin, Dante, Vampyres and the Cerberus. But you know what? Justice has come up with her own master plan and heaven help the Vampyre, monster or human that gets in her way!

Pre- Order Amazon
payhip button

image


image

Shelique Lize is an awesome mother of two beautiful baby girls, and a wife to the luckiest man on the planet. It took her five years to write Velicious Part One but once her first daughter was born, she decided to revisit the world that she had created. Falling in love with her characters all over again, she wanted to finish their story. Velicious Part Two was written in half the time.

Shelique loves anything to do with the paranormal world. She’s a proud Canadian but dislikes winter. She prefers watching the snow falling beautifully from inside a warm home. The movie Grease is her all time favorite movie. She thinks everyone should still watch Disney movies. Sailor Moon is her favorite anime. Currently she likes to listen to The Weeknd and Lana Del Rey, and she’s pretty open to every other genre of music.

Shelique likes to surround herself with positivity and she enjoys a good meditation. Photography, a Shopaholic, and she’s an Aries.

WEBSITEBLOGGOOGLE+TWITTERFACEBOOK



Book Blitz! Excerpt & Giveaway: His Work of Art, Hot & Nerdy #4 by Shannyn Schroeder



Reese Carter is definitely not your average college girl. She’d prefer to spend Saturday nights playing Hero’s Crusade than attending a wild frat party on campus. When she bands together with Adam, fellow comic enthusiast and illustrator, it appears that Reese has formed a dream team sure to propel her writing into the comic hall of fame.

Adam Hayes has never met a girl like Reese. She’s sassy, smart, and loves talking comics, although he can’t see why she’d choose DC over Marvel. He’s thrilled to finally put his artistic chops to use in their upcoming comic project. But this relationship is strictly professional. Or so he tells himself. When the two combine forces, they churn out magic in more ways than they had planned; they never expected to develop a steamy romantic sub-plot of their own…




She reached for a slice as Adam walked in the back. He returned with some napkins, which was good because she now had sauce dripping on her chin. “Thanks,” she mumbled around a mouthful of hot cheese. Just as she wiped at her chin, a blob of sauce landed on her cargo pants. She rubbed at it, resigned to another stain.

The corners of his mouth lifted, but he said nothing. He leaned against the counter in front of the register. They ate in silence through their first pieces. They’d worked a long time to figure out how to approach this partnership.

No matter what, collaboration was rough. 

Adam wiped his hands on a napkin. “Do you think this is going to work?”

“What? Us?” Probably not the best wording.

He nodded.

“As long as you give up your boob fixation, yeah.” She blew out a heavy breath that puffed her bangs away from her forehead. “It’s harder than I thought. It’d be cool if we could just do a Vulcan mind meld, and you could see inside my head and know what I’m picturing. If I had any artistic skill, I’d attempt to draw it myself. But I find stick figures challenging.”

“So Lyrid can’t have big tits. I get it. You can stop telling me. But I’m not going to draw her like a guy either.”

The jab hit home. More times than she cared to think about, people had commented on her appearance. “I don’t want her to be a guy. But real women don’t have a two-inch waist to go with their ginormous boobs.”

“Lyrid isn’t real. She’s a character. A fantasy.”

But why did the fantasy always have to be sex goddess? “Can we settle on a happy medium?” She squinted at him and searched for the right words. “Curvy, but not voluptuous?” She pointed at him. “And no spillage.”

“Spillage?”

She cupped her hands in front of her own small chest. “Spillage. Popping out of a ridiculous outfit.”

Adam dropped his pizza back in the box and went to the drawing table. He flipped up his sketch pad. An intense expression took over his face and Reese stared. She couldn’t look away. His long fingers moved quickly with a pencil in his left hand. She knew that when he was finished, smudges would be smeared on the edge of his palm as well as on his fingertips.

It was like she was no longer in the room.



Shannyn is a former English teacher, who now works as a part-time editor while raising her three kids.

Even though she wrote from high school through college (mostly poetry), she'd never considered a career as an author. Writing fell by the wayside as she focused her energy on creating lesson plans and new and fabulous ways to torment her teen students. One group in particular dubbed her "The Torture Master," a title she carried into motherhood.

After the birth of baby number two, Shannyn resigned from teaching and fell in love with reading romance novels. She read so many books so quickly that her husband teased, "If you're going to read so many damn books, why don't you just write one?"

So she did. And she hasn't looked back since.

She is recovering from her Diet Coke addiction, fears putting her foot in her mouth on social media, and has a renewed appreciation for the bad girls of the world.

Shannyn is represented by Frances Black and Jennifer Mishler of Literary Counsel. Her debut, More Than This, will be released by eKensington on January 3, 2013.




October 29, 2015

Excerpt & Giveaway! Reawakened Secrets, Reawakened #1 by Mari Denae




Some secrets should never be kept…

Growing up in the servants’ quarters at Haven Hill, Claire Brown was a poor outcast, living in a world of money and privilege. Her only solace was best friend, Alice Sinclair, and secret desire, Jackson Montgomery. Rich and connected, they were perfect in every way and perfect for each other.

Still, Claire was foolish enough to fall in love with Jackson, and desperate enough to hide it. When Alice found out, there was a terrible accident that left her in a coma. Jackson disappeared, leaving New Haven without even saying good-bye.

Ten years later, Claire has managed to build a life without them. So when Jackson calls out of nowhere to say Alice is awake, Claire’s first thought is Thank God. Her second? I’m screwed. Lusting after Jackson destroyed her. It’s nothing compared to what she’s hiding now.

But nothing stays hidden forever.

Reawakened Secrets is part one of Jackson and Claire’s story.

Part 2, Reawakened Sins and Part 3, Reawakened Seduction will be released early next year. To be the first to get information on deals, teasers, excerpts, bonus scenes and release dates, connect with the author on Facebook, Twitter, or Goodreads.



It was my first day off in weeks, and I decided to celebrate with spring cleaning. I slid on a tattered pair of sweats and a t-shirt and went in search of supplies. I turned on the radio and started singing along with the ridiculous lyrics.

“Womanizer, womanizer, oh!”

Inexplicably happy, I danced around the house. Doing my best impression of a brunette Britney Spears, I dusted the knickknacks. This is the life a twenty-seven-year-old is supposed to have, I thought, moving on to scrub the patio windows. Enjoy it while you can. Tomorrow, it’s back to reality. The phone rang, and I rushed to turn down the radio. Still breathless from my workout, I answered the phone. 

“Brown residence. You’re interrupting my day off, so make it good.”

“Claire?”

It had been ten years, but I knew the sound of his voice instantly. It washed over me, robbing me of what little breath I had left. My chest constricted, as though I had fallen - hard, knocking the wind out of me. I pressed my hand there, curling my fingers into the fabric of my shirt and pulled in an unsteady breath to speak. But no sound could work its way through the constricting lump in my throat.

“Claire, are you there? It’s Jackson... Jackson Montgomery.”

Taking a shaky breath, I clutched the phone tighter. “Yeah,” I managed to squeak.

“I’m sorry for calling you this way,” his honeyed voice continued. “It’s about Alice.”

I sank into the nearest chair, afraid my wobbling knees would send me crashing to the floor. My insides turned into a churning jumble of panic and dread.

“Jack, please, tell me she’s okay,” I whispered.

“Don’t worry, it’s good news. Alice is awake. Now that she’s recovering, the only thing she’s asked for is you.”

Limp with relief, I slumped into the chair, my heart pounding against my ribs. He waited for a response, but I struggled just to process his words.

“I know it’s a shock after all this time, but she’s asking for you,” Jackson persisted. He could have just as easily been telling me the sky was blue. It filled me with irrational hatred, despair and absolute humiliation. How dare he sound so calm and sure while my world was crumbling around me. “And Claire, she, uh... doesn’t remember anything.”

I choked out a few gasps of air. “Where is she?” I managed to force through the stranglehold of emotions closing my throat and burning my eyes.


My name is Mari Denae
I am a married mother of three and publishing my first novel is a dream come true. As the nerd that went to bed with a flash light to read the books I swiped from my mom’s room, I have always been an avid book lover. My favorites are hot, alpha male heroes (think Kristen Ashley), suspenseful, romantic thrillers (think Sandra Brown) and poignant, sweet love stories (think Abbi Glines or Colleen Hoover). My plan was always to be a writer of some sort, but somehow real life responsibilities got in the way. Now, I am an accountant with a night time writing obsession.


One Saturday afternoon, I took my girls to see the latest teenage movie. Four days later, I had read all four Twilight books. I was inspired by the innocent romance and ‘Edward Cullen’ (don’t judge). Once I found my way to Fifty Shades of Grey, I was a complete goner. All my spare time was spent reading, writing or blogging. After version one million, five hundred and fifty five of my series Reawakened , I’m finally ready to share it and hope that someone enjoys reading the story as much as I have enjoyed writing it. This one’s for my mother. I hope she’s looking down proud because I finally finished what I started.




October 28, 2015

Book Blitz! Excerpt & Giveaway: Too Many Rock Stars, Access All Areas #1 by Candy J. Starr




I don’t date rockers. Don’t sleep with them. Don’t even swap spit. I’ve been working as a band booker at Trouble — the coolest indie rock club in town — long enough to know what a bunch of screwed up, egotistical jerks they are. Some of them might seem okay at first but that’s just because they’ve learnt to hide it better than others.

That would be fine if Razer didn’t keep popping into my office, making himself so annoyingly attractive. And he only gets more insistent when the leather-clad Alex hits town.

While they compete for both rock glory and my affection, I get stuck in the middle but all I really want to do is save my job and the club.

That’s the trouble with my life: too many rock stars.



He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket.

"You have a car?" I asked.

"Not a car," he replied, leading me around the corner where some kind of motorbike was parked. I knew nothing about bikes, nothing at all, but that was no regular bike. It was all black and shiny and huge. Like the kind of bike Satan would ride out of Hell.

"I'm not getting on that thing."

"Don't be chicken." He handed me a helmet.

"I am a chicken. This helmet is all that would be coming between me and scrambled brains." I checked my outfit. Short skirt, bare legs, bare arms. I had far too much flesh exposed. Flesh that could be grazed, bones that could be broken. 

"Just a short ride. I'll take it slow."

I screwed up my face, trying to decide if I trusted him. "You promise?"

"Pinkie promise," he said.

"Kinda convenient of you to have a spare helmet. Were you planning this?"

"It pays to be prepared," he said and flashed me the kind of smile that hit me all the way down to my knickers. A smile that caressed my body and made my hairs stand on end. A dimply smile that won my trust.

I put on the helmet.

He started up the bike and within 30 seconds, the panic set in.

"Razer, I'm going to kiiiiiiiiiiiiiillll you," I screamed. But he couldn't hear. He'd go slow, he'd said. Just a short ride, he'd said.

I'd never trust that guy again. He drove through the streets like a maniac. We were going to die. I knew it. I'd end up as road kill, so mangled no one would be able to recognise my body.

Actually, I didn't even want to think about my body. About the way my legs were wrapped around Razer and how I had to press myself tight against him to hold on. Bikes, they were just dirty and wrong. They filled your mind with thoughts of sex and death.

We cut through traffic, narrowly missing a truck and running through a traffic light as it was about to change. My grip on Razer tightened. If I hugged him any tighter, he'd end up with broken ribs and that would serve him right. Except that it might make him crash.

He headed out of the city, picking up speed as we hit the open road. Then he one of the roads going uphill. If I'd thought the city streets were bad, seeing that steep drop down to instant death so close had me white knuckled. I ground my teeth down to bare gums and my body ached from muscle tension.

Killing was too good for him. I'd torture him first. I'd tie him in a room and make him listen to Justin Bieber on repeat. I'd feed him on my cooking. I'd get Carlie to serve him warm beer.

Even though, intellectually, I knew I’d be okay with Razer driving, it felt like he was out of control. He pushed me to the edge of my fear but pulled back to let me know I was safe as soon it got too bad.

When I thought I couldn't stand it any more, he pulled over, skidding and kicking up gravel.

As soon as I could, I jumped off that bike and pulled off my helmet.

"I'm calling a taxi," I yelled. "I am NOT going back down that road on that bike."

He just grinned.

"You said you'd go slowly. You said you wouldn't go far."

"But it was fun, wasn't it?" That cheeky grin on his face just made me want to punch him.

"No. No it wasn't fun. It was horrible. It was the worst." I stomped around, wondering how the hell I'd get out of this place without getting back on that bike. We were in the middle of nowhere, on top of a hill, with nothing but trees around us.

"You just don't want to admit it."

I was about to yell at him some more but, as I turned, I noticed the view below us, the coast line with the sun starting to set over the dazzlingly blue ocean. It took my breath away.

"Amazing, isn't it?"

I leaned against the bike, taking it all in. The helmet dangled in my hand until Razer took it from me and put it away. Nature could be okay sometimes. I spend far too many hours in that dingy club. Carlie had been right. I needed to get out in the sun. I'd forgotten things like that existed. The sun, the beach, the birds flying in the air. Life wasn't just about bands and planning rosters. 

Razer stood beside me with that annoying grin. I bet my hair was an absolute mess from the helmet and my clothes were all over the place. I pulled down my skirt because it had ridden up. God knows how much I'd been flashing while I was on that bike.

"I didn't know you had a bike."

"It's not mine. I couldn't afford something like that. It's my cousin's and he loaned it to me in return for teaching him guitar. You've been so looking so stressed lately, Violet. I wanted to get you out of the club for a while to have some fun."

To be honest, if he wanted me to have some fun, he could've thought of something less dangerous. How was I supposed to be less stressed when he tried to kill me?

Our bodies almost touched. I waited for him to try to kiss me again. I prepared to fight. I didn't want to kiss him. I didn't want him to make those kinds of moves. I didn’t want him to make me feel those kinds of feelings.

Our breathing fell into time with each other. My heart still beat so hard. I wanted to move away from him but my legs had turned to jelly. From that ride, of course. I'd been clenching my muscles so hard they no longer worked.

A bird squawked in the distance somewhere. The wind blew through the trees. The smell of eucalyptus filled the summer air. I stayed perfectly still.

The moment drew out and he didn't move. He just stood beside me until my anticipation turned to disappointment.

I didn't want him to kiss me but he could at least try. Maybe he'd lost interest in me and only saw me as a friend. That's what I wanted. That's the only thing I wanted. So why did my heart feel like a big, heavy stone weighing me down. I couldn't handle this tension and walked away from the bike, my footsteps crunching on the gravel.

"It sure is pretty here," I said. Anything to break the silence. 

"Yeah, I came up here the other day when I needed to sort some stuff out in my head. It really helps to just sit and watch the sea."

I nodded. I'd thought he had all kinds of ulterior motives but he was just being kind. He'd not even mentioned that bloody competition, thankfully.

"I guess we should get back," he said. "If you want to be back at work on time. Of course, we could linger and I could actually drive fast on the way back."

He winked at me. I gulped.

"Let's go." 



Candy J. Starr used to be a band manager until she realised that the band she managed was so lacking in charisma that they actually sucked the charisma out of any room they played. "Screw you," she said, leaving them to wallow in obscurity - totally forgetting that they owed her big bucks for video equipment hire.

Candy has filmed and interviewed some big names in the rock business, and a lot of small ones. She's seen the dirty little secrets that go on in the back rooms of band venues. She's seen the ugly side of rock and the very pretty one.

But, of course, everything she writes is fiction. 

Want to know about new releases and secret fan only offers? Join her mailing list - http://bit.ly/160V44m