Title: Hard Body Rock (Body Rock #1)
Author: Nora Flite
Genre: Contemporary Romance 17+
Publication Date: February 10, 2014
Publisher: Silver String
Event Organized by: Literati Author Services, Inc.
~ Synopsis ~
From USA Today Bestselling Author
Nora Flite
She thought she was stepping into
fame:
Meeting Drezden Halifax should have
been a dream. But dreams are supposed to be sweet, fragile things that whisk
you away. Not monsters crafted from hard fingers, gritty vocal cords and a
voice so powerful it could tear my guts right out.
Maybe my heart, too.
Becoming the guitarist for Four and
a Half Headstones was everything I needed.
Too bad the band’s lead singer is
doing his best to ruin everything I am.
He thought she would solve his
troubles:
Lola Cooper, god damn Lola Cooper.
She was the perfect guitarist, fingers that could summon a sweet song or punch
a chord. She’s supposed to save my band, make us come out of this tour in one
piece…
But I just want to tear HER to
pieces.
No one should make me feel this way.
One look at her, one smell, and I knew I’d have to have her. She does things to
me that scare the shit out of me. Make me want to slam her on a wall and listen
to her cries: eager or fearful, it doesn’t matter.
I’m a monster…
And I don’t even care.
And I don’t even care.
Excerpt:
Her pick came down, fingers
spinning over the wires to produce the first note from Tuesday Left Behind. It
was clear, hanging in the air with the perfect amount of anticipation.
Then, Lola began to play.
Her eyes were closed, hiding away
her deep sapphires from my seeking gaze. With perfect ease, she played the song
that I had asked. She played it as good as Johnny ever had.
Better than he'd been playing
lately, really.
Lola's hands embraced her guitar's
neck, gliding along to coerce it to make bits of music that sank into my ears.
They burrowed in, grinding through my skin and to my very bone.
She was good. She was god damn
good.
I realized I was squeezing my
thighs under the table. Shifting in place, I saw Colt and Porter both staring
at me. Those were pointed looks, looks that said 'holy shit, are you hearing
this?'
I am, I'm hearing it, but I want
more than just a mimic. Waving at her to
stop hurt me in a funny way. “That's enough, alright.”
She faltered, concern showing like
a shadow on her soft jaw. The song still reverberated in my flesh. “Sorry, did
I do something wrong?” she asked.
The rest of the band was watching
me. They were pissed I'd cut the kid off, but I didn't care. There was more
that I wanted here. I was desperate to know if Lola was what I'd been hoping
for. Impatience clawed at me to find out fast. “You know our music, good. I
want you to play something else.”
“I—something else?”
Porter pushed his lower jaw out.
Him, Colt, they had already decided this girl was what we needed. It wasn't so
simple, though. Not to me. “I want you to play anything you want. Just go for
it, show me what makes you want to create music in the first place.”
It made me sound fucking insane, I
was sure of that. I was ready for the kid to open her mouth and fumble. Maybe
she'd even turn and walk out the door.
I had my reasons, though. This was
what would separate those who played from those who played. Johnny had
been good, I'd never say otherwise. When I needed someone for our first big show,
when playing guitar myself while singing wasn't cutting it, he'd come forward.
He'd killed that audition, it'd been the start of something real for all
of us.
He just never had the drive. It was
what kept him from performing as best as he could at every single show. He
didn't care about creating music.
Fucker just wanted to be on stage.
Let's see if this girl is different.
Lola was watching me. Not with the
deer in headlights look I expected, no. Her eyes were shining like new frost,
the face of a woman who was excited.
It was contagious.
Before she started, I noticed I was
hunching forward and holding my breath.
Her fingers came down, tickling the
strings. It was a sharp movement, sound bursting in my brain like a fresh
orange. Just as I was feeling my pulse quicken, adjusting to the intensity of
her strums, Lola came to life.
Deep curls, the song she played
tugged at the very roots of my hair. Lower and lower it went, drilling so hard
into my body that I had to shift on my chair.
She was good. So fucking good, I
was falling into the trap of her music. It wrapped me tight, tempting me to
sink in and let her keep going.
Lola's eyes were closed, lower lip
tucked just slightly in her teeth. She was living in that moment like it was
her last. I knew that look. The body language of someone in their own
creative trance.
Every small movement she made was
intentional. She traveled across the guitar, a land she'd been living in all
her life. There was no part of the instrument, the song, that was a mystery to
her.
Who is this girl? I wondered, noting I was gripping the edge of the table
hard enough to turn my finger tips white. Her poise was distracting, back
arched into a high speed curve. The muscles on her lower arms flexing
deliciously with each note. A dark, intricate tattoo writhed on her right one.
I was fantasizing about how her
limbs would flex in other situations. Perhaps the dark corner of an alley, head
tilted back and breath steaming in the night air.
Fuck, calm down, I told myself. Shaking my head, I snapped my fingers and
broke the spell Lola had put on us all.
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About the Author
A USA Today Bestselling Author, Nora
Flite loves to write new adult romance (especially the dramatic, gritty kind!
Inspired by the complicated events and wild experiences of her own life, she
wants to share those stories with her audience.
Born in the tiniest state, coming from what was essentially
dirt, she’s learned to embrace and appreciate every opportunity the world gives
her.
She’s also, possibly, addicted to
coffee and sushi.
Not
at the same time, of course.
Check
out her blog, noraflite.blogspot.com, also email her at noraflite@gmail.com if you just have some questions!
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