Author: Sarah Grimm
Title: Wrecked
Series: Blind Man's Alibi Book #1
Genre: Contemporary Romance
She was destined to show him the joy and pain of
living.
Joe Campbell has it all: money, success, and fame. As lead singer
of alternative rock band Blind Man’s Alibi, he holds the vague
conviction that life on the road, and nights filled with meaningless sexual
encounters, is enough. Until her – Emma Travers. She is a breath of fresh air.
Sunshine to his darkness. The one who changes him, pushes him, and teaches him
to truly live. He never imagines she is hiding a devastating secret. Or that
the same emotion that could steal his heart, would ultimately break it.
Buy the Book:
Excerpt:
CHAPTER ONE
“Sorry, but sucking off a
narcissistic asshole who’s so damn drunk he can’t recall the words to his own
song is not my idea of a good time.”
His bark of laughter echoed
in the empty hall. “You really are a ray of sunshine, aren’t you?”
God, what a terrible idea
this had been. Hoping to put some distance between them, Emma Travers quickened
her pace, only to stumble over the uncustomary height of the heels her best
friend Alison had convinced her to wear. Her ankle screamed in protest, forcing
her to skid to a halt. Balancing precariously so she didn’t face plant on the
concrete, she struggled against the zippers, finally succeeding in pulling the
rhinestone studded stilettos from her swollen feet. She barely resisted the
urge to turn around and throw them at the head of the man who’d pissed her off
faster than a Bugatti Veyron went from zero to sixty, and instead tossed them
aside and continued her escape in bare feet.
“Come back and see me
sometime, Emma,” Joe Campbell, lead singer of the British alternative metal
band Blind Man's Alibi, called out to her.
Fat chance!
“I could use a bit of
sunshine in my life.” The murmur hit her ears like a shout, and stopped her in
her tracks.
Well, shit.
Emma remained rooted in
place, unable to decide if he was for real or filling her with pretty words in
order to get her to stay and sleep with him. He sounded sincere enough, but the
only way to know for certain was to face him. Something she really didn’t want
to do.
Not that he was painful to
look at. Oh no, Joe Campbell was extremely pleasing to the eye, a fact he knew
too well. One, she was certain, he used to his advantage whenever an occasion
presented itself. Like tonight, when she’d gone against character and accepted
his invitation backstage after the show.
One glimpse of the man who
stood alone in the room she’d been unceremoniously delivered to and Emma went
hot all over. Unable to speak, she’d allowed her gaze to take a long, slow
journey over his body. His torso was bare, giving her an unobstructed view of hardened
pecs, a flat washboard stomach and muscles that rippled and shifted, making the
Chinese dragon wrapped around his left upper arm and onto his chest seem alive
as he slipped his left hand into the front pocket of his jeans. Dear God, those
jeans! The way they hung on his lean hips, the top button undone like he’d just
pulled them on. They rode so low there was no mistaking that underneath them he
was commando. Her gaze had locked on the obvious bulge behind his fly and, for
a moment, she’d actually considered dropping to her knees before him and taking
a taste.
Then he’d opened his mouth.
What was that saying? Elvis has left the building. She was outta there.
With a deep breath for
courage, Emma turned around and was greeted by the same image of the man as
before. Except that the whiskey bottle he’d held in his right hand and lifted
to those delectable lips too many times to count, was nowhere to be seen. Oh
great, and the hulking brute who’d brought her backstage stood leaning against
the wall to Joe’s right.
Gary, she was pretty certain
he’d introduced himself as Gary, held his arms crossed before him, head tipped
toward the floor in a pseudo relaxed pose designed to give the impression he
hadn’t just heard every damn word they’d said. He blew the image to shit when
he lifted his head and winked at her. Winked! Was everyone in the music
industry completely bonkers?
Emma did her best to ignore
the brute and focused on the singer. “You’re a real piece of work, you know
that?”
“What did you expect?”
Good question.
“I guess I hoped the stage
show was just that, a show, and that there was a decent guy behind all of that.
Maybe I wanted to believe the ‘I’m too sexy for my own good’ attitude
was just publicity.”
“Sorry to disappoint.” His
tone didn’t sound regretful at all. He strode toward her, moved with such a
fluid grace Emma’s heart thumped in response. His long legs closed the distance
in half the time it had taken her to get this far. She made herself stand her
ground as he stepped in close, closer than she’d yet allowed him to get. Close
enough she caught the subtle hint of soap on his skin and whiskey on his
breath. “You’re right about one thing, I’m an asshole. But it wasn’t the
alcohol that caused me to lose my words tonight, Emma Travers. It was you.”
His chin-length brown hair
was nearly dry now and hung over his eyes as if windblown, though nary a wisp
of air blew from the vents above. Eyes she was surprised to learn were two
different colors—one brown, the other a mix of brown and green. “You excel at
telling a girl what she wants to hear, I’ll give you that.”
His gaze didn’t flinch. “How
can you doubt the truth? You were there, front row center. Close enough to
touch me.” The soft timbre of his voice warmed her even more than the heat
radiating off his skin. He fell silent, unmoving, as if he were waiting for
something. What, she wasn’t certain. Unable to meet his gaze, she lowered hers
and found herself transfixed by the movement of his Adam’s apple as he spoke.
“All you had to do was reach out.”
An image of hands pawing and
clutching at him whenever he’d trekked too close to the edge of the stage
flashed through her mind. She swallowed hard, her mouth going dry, and shook
her head. “Is that what you wanted me to do? Grope you like the other women in
the audience? Do you actually enjoy that?”
“Not particularly.”
“Yet you expect me to believe
that, for some unknown reason, you wanted me to touch you?”
“You stood out from the
crowd. Not singing, not screaming, just standing in the front row. It was
impossible not to notice you. I wondered why you were at the show, You didn’t
seem to be having a good time. Then you smiled at me…my mind blanked.”
What the hell was she
supposed to say to that? Thanks for noticing me?
“I was feeding you lines and
you just stood there, staring.” Much the same way as she was doing now. Christ,
he was beautiful. Her fingers itched with the need to trace his lips, his
mustache, the little hairless spots on the outside of his bottom lip and that
sexy as hell strip of facial hair that went from the center of his full lower
lip down, to blend into his short trimmed beard.
Her throat went dry as dust.
“Why me? I’m not actually supposed to believe you saw me and lost your place,
am I?”
“That’s what happened.” His
words were matter-of-fact, meant to be believed. “You know it’s true, you were
there.”
Emma shook her head.
“Contrary to what you think,
I was not too drunk to remember the lyrics. You see, I’m an accomplished
drinker. I’ve been at it a long time. Long enough to know that forgetting the
words to one of my songs is about as never-going-to-happen as forgetting how to
please a woman.”
“Why?”
“Why what, Sunshine?”
“Why are you a practiced
drunk? Is that all you do, spend your free time partying?”
“Interesting. You don’t
question my forgetting how to please a woman?”
“Hah! You could probably pull
that off if you were comatose.”
Review:
Wrecked is a rockstar romance that will
leave you wrecked and crying your eyes out but I wouldn’t have had it any other
way. I am not one of those whose reads the last page first (my husband does
that and I hate it) but you go into this book and even knowing how it ends you
have to turn the next page and keep on going. If Emma can keep on going and
enjoying the time she has you must keep her company on her journey. This book
is superbly written with a fabulous mix of angst, humor and hot sex that will
enthrall you and stay with you long after you have finished the book. I can’t
wait for the next installment to see how Joe and the guys are holding up.
Complimentary copy
provided by author/publisher for an honest review.
Giveaway
All About the Author
The
youngest of four, Sarah Grimm can't remember a time when she wasn't writing. In
fact, her siblings believe she began writing in utero to pass the time. As a
child, Sarah wrote constantly, littering the house with bulging spiral
notebooks and ignoring the ribbing of her mother and sister who routinely said
'romances?' in a somewhat scornful tone. Sarah is a Romance Through the Ages
award winner for Best Contemporary Romance, a RONE Awards finalist, and a Gayle
Wilson Award of Excellence finalist.
Stalk Sarah:
Blind Man’s Alibi Reader Group:
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