Synopsis:
This is not your typical rock star romance. For one, the
“rock star” is a rapper. And not just any rapper. Trace is the hottest ticket
in the music industry right now, regardless of which definition of ‘hot’ you
choose.
Taryn Starr is not the girl-next-door who unknowingly meets
a celebrity. Known as “America’s Sweetheart,” the reigning country music
princess and world-renowned superstar knows exactly who Trace is…or does she?
Their worlds collide when the musicians whose paths were
never destined to cross are forced by their joint record label to collaborate
on a song. The sparks fly and ignite a fire that blazes hotter with every
minute they spend together—for better or worse. One thing’s for certain, the
two media magnets can’t deny their explosive chemistry, but will life in the
spotlight ultimately bring Trace and Taryn together or force them apart?
***This contemporary romance new adult novel is for mature
audiences. The language alone would make a sailor blush (the guy’s a rapper,
remember?) so 18+ only, please.
COLLABORATION
Michelle Lynn ft. Nevaeh Lee
Goodreads Link -
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18994979-collaboration
Michelle Lynn Bio:
Michelle moved around the Midwest most of her life,
transferring from school to school before settling down in the outskirts of
Chicago ten years ago, where she now resides with her husband and two
kids. She developed a love of reading at
a young age, which helped lay the foundation for her passion to write. With the encouragement of her family, she
finally sat down and wrote one of the many stories that have been floating
around in her head. When she isn’t reading or writing, she can be found playing
with her kids, talking to her mom on the phone, or hanging out with her family
and friends. But after chasing around
twin preschoolers all day, she always cherishes her relaxation time after
putting the kids to bed.
Nevaeh Lee Bio:
Nevaeh’s first exposure to writing
began in a middle school creative writing class. She was reprimanded for
composing a politically incorrect story and forced to re-write about a “safer”
topic. Being the writing rebel that she is, Nevaeh always likes to push the
envelope a bit and never re-writes, unless her editor insists on it.
When she’s not writing, Nevaeh is a
freelance book editor ;). And when she’s not reading, writing, or editing, she
can be found spending time with her family and taking road trips, exploring the
area around wherever she happens to be living at the time. Even though “home”
will always be Texas, she has lived in several different states and countries,
but currently resides in the DC metro area.
She also adores her really big dog
who frequently takes her for walks while enduring her many story ideas and
rambling dialogue, which sometimes occurs in multiple languages. After many
years of this, she finally decided to start writing out some of these stories
and her first book, a joint effort called Collaboration, will be
self-published on January 26, 2014.
YouTube BOOK TRAILER:
Spotify Collaboration Playlist:
RAFFLECOPTER CODES:
HTML: a Rafflecopter giveaway
LINK:
http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/share-code/M2JiNjJlMDMyMzA5OGQwNzRiNWJlODQzNzE5ZDY1OjY1/
Excerpt #1:
Speaking
of which, we’d better get the fuck out of this car and into her house before
one of those tour buses stop by and the lucky bastards end up with photos worth
way more than the chump change they paid for the tour.
I
reluctantly pull away from her, loving the sound of the whimper I hear before I
throw the door open and slam it shut. I run around the car to help her out and
lead her toward one of the few places where we will be safe from prying eyes.
We both move quickly, ducking our heads in a now natural response, even when
there aren’t any cameras around.
Taryn
already has her keys in hand and opens the heavy wooden door. Thank the fuck
she has an alarm system at least, which she turns off while I close the door
behind us. As soon as the door clicks closed, I turn toward her and I have no
doubt that the look in my eyes as they meet hers would be described as
predatory. But instead of looking like frightened prey, I only see pure lust
emanating from those staggeringly beautiful eyes. I’ve always thought Taryn’s
eyes changed color depending on her mood and now I’m sure of it. Right now,
they look like they’re on fire, with gold flecks bursting through the wild and
intense green, a forest on the verge of erupting in uncontrollable flames.
I stalk closer and she
backs up against the foyer wall, where I cage her in, my hands beside each of
her shoulders. I lean in, bypassing her lips and moving mine toward her ear.
Although her eyes are telling me one thing, I need to hear what her mouth says.
“Do you want me?” I
whisper. She leans her head back against the wall, further exposing her neck,
and I take the opportunity to trail kisses from her ear down to her collarbone.
I kiss across the delicate area, which judging by the sounds she’s making, is
also an erogenous zone for her. Then I
proceed to kiss my way back up her neck before whispering in her other ear,
“Although I like that answer, I need to hear you say it, sweetheart. Do. You.
Want. Me?” I ask, nibbling on her earlobe with each word spoken.
“Yes, dammit, I want
you,” she says forcefully and reaches down to pull my shirt apart, ripping the
buttons, before tearing it off me. That’s all the answer I need.
Excerpt #2:
The
limo driver opens my door and just as I’m about to swing my legs out, I catch a
glimpse of the guy who snaked my award. He and his entourage are working the
carpet, though instead of keeping their distance from the masses who are
screaming his name, they’re actually hugging and kissing everyone they come in
contact with. You have got to be kidding me. “Ridiculous,” my mom says, the
distaste evident in her voice. “Couldn’t they have more class?”
Ignoring
her, I continue to carefully exit the vehicle, and soon the crowd collectively
starts to holler my name. After waving,
I start my walk and can’t help but notice he stops just outside the doors and
turns around. Obviously disappointed the crowd is no longer all about him. I happily sign a few autographs while feeling
his gaze on me from the corner of my eyes.
Trying to ignore it, I continue signing, waiting for him to make his way
inside. “That’s enough,” my mom tells
the young girl holding her paper and pen to me.
Shooing her hand off the paper, I smile and sign anyway, handing it back
to the girl. Her ecstatic yelling and
jumping is enough to make me giggle.
My
mom, not willing to take any chance of me disobeying her again, firmly places
her hand on my elbow and leads me back up the carpeted walkway. My laughter quickly quiets and my smile turns
down when I spot him still standing there, staring directly at me. Other than his two bodyguards standing at
either side of him, no one else is around.
Those mesmerizing blue eyes bore into me the closer I get. Swallowing hard, I will my heart to calm down
before I reach him.
He
places his hand on the door handle and opens it for me. I quietly give him my thanks and enter with
my mom following close behind. When the doors shut, he comes alongside me. “I
just wanted to say congratulations on the award.” He holds his hand out for me
to shake and when I place my hand in his, I’m amazed how soft his hands feel. I
guess if I wasn’t plucking guitar strings all day, that’s how my hands would
feel too. Unexpectedly, he pulls me into him and his lips brush against my
cheek as he whispers, “But it should have been mine.” With a chuckle, he walks
away, once again leaving before I have a chance to respond.
Excerpt #3:
My guitarist, huh? I can’t
help but wonder what else he is to her. Considering his close proximity and the
adoring way he’s looking at her, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what he
wants to be. Question is, what does
she want? Or rather, who? And why the hell do I care anyway?
“Trace?”
I snap out of my ridiculous thoughts to see both Taryn and Ryder staring at me.
I also don’t miss the curious look her mom is shooting my way, arched eyebrow
included.
“Nice
to meet you,” I say, using my most polite voice. It’s a good thing my boys
aren’t listening in or they’d be giving me shit for sure. “You must be a hell
of a guitar player to get to back up this girl.” Okay, that was a dig I just
couldn’t help.
“I
do what I can,” he says with a smirk, and I have the unexpected urge to knock
that grin right off country boy’s face. My label would love that, me starting a
fight right here at the home office. “Oh, and congrats on the win, by the way,
even if you did beat my girl here. Then again, she did take home the grand
prize so it’s all good, right?”
If
Taryn was a fire hydrant, he just pissed all over her. Yeah, I better get the
fuck out of here and fast. “Yeah, we’re good. Look, it’s good to meet you, but
I gotta jet...literally,” I say and notice the way the corner of Taryn’s
perfect pink lips turn up at my words. “Tour starts tomorrow.”
“I
heard about your tour,” he says and I raise my eyebrows. This should be
interesting because I know this redneck doesn’t listen to my music. “What’s it
called again?” he asks, and I see his eyes shift to the right where there is a
newly-released tour poster covering half of the damn wall. The words “This is
Me, Motherfuckers” are emblazoned across a life-sized version of me giving two
middle fingers to anyone who sees it. Ironically, this poster doesn’t really
represent me at all, but this asshole doesn’t need to know that. I’m not sure
why exactly, but he is definitely trying to make me look bad in front of Taryn.
Well, two can play at that game.
“I
guess they don’t teach you how to read down where you’re from, huh?” I ask,
indicating the poster. I don’t miss Taryn’s mouth drop open in shock at my
words. So much for being polite, I think.
“Actually,”
he says, the ever-present smirk still firmly in place, “our home state is known for its high literacy rates.” And there he
goes pissing again.
“Well,
that’s nice to hear and if I had more time, I’d love a little lesson on the
educational system in Texas. But I have a tour to start so if you’ll excuse me,
I’ll have to see both of ya’ll
later,” I say and brush past Ryder, not bothering to look Taryn’s way again.
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