~ Synopsis ~
MUSIC
HAS THE POWER TO HEAL ALL…BUT NOT ALL BROKEN HEARTS CAN BE
MENDED.
Always in control, Xander Wilde considered life on the road to be a perfect fit for him. But when disaster strikes on the Wilde Ones’ latest tour, fate intervenes…and a newly single Ivy Taylor, the only girl he has ever loved, steps back into his life.
After moving past her painful breakup with Xander years ago, Ivy was poised to become the next big name in pop music…when suddenly she withdrew from the limelight—the same day she announced her engagement to her controlling agent, Damon Wolf.
Xander knows he should keep his distance. But once they’re on the road, he can’t resist pursuing her for a second chance. Yet a jealous Damon can’t let her go—and he’s keeping dangerous secrets that could destroy them all.
When the three of them come together, everything falls apart. But if Xander and Ivy can hold tight to the bond that connects them, they just might have a chance at reclaiming the powerful love they thought they had lost forever....
Always in control, Xander Wilde considered life on the road to be a perfect fit for him. But when disaster strikes on the Wilde Ones’ latest tour, fate intervenes…and a newly single Ivy Taylor, the only girl he has ever loved, steps back into his life.
After moving past her painful breakup with Xander years ago, Ivy was poised to become the next big name in pop music…when suddenly she withdrew from the limelight—the same day she announced her engagement to her controlling agent, Damon Wolf.
Xander knows he should keep his distance. But once they’re on the road, he can’t resist pursuing her for a second chance. Yet a jealous Damon can’t let her go—and he’s keeping dangerous secrets that could destroy them all.
When the three of them come together, everything falls apart. But if Xander and Ivy can hold tight to the bond that connects them, they just might have a chance at reclaiming the powerful love they thought they had lost forever....
~ Review ~
4.5
stars by Guest Reviewer Cybill
This is the third installment in this series. Xander's story. There was glimpses of Xander in Connected and Torn. He was kind of douchey, and cold but you could see there was a driving force behind his aloofness.
Xander Wilde fell in love at age 14, and continued to love just one person his entire life. There was never anyone that held a candle to Ivy Taylor. After his fathers suicide he was forced to let Ivy go. He wanted her to lead the life she had always dreamed of while he stayed and took care of his family. He let her believe he was a lying, cheating bastard so she could escape her family. He moved on with his life and career but always left love on the back burner with his heart in Ivy's hands.
Ivy Taylor was a some what insecure teenage girl when she "caught" Xander cheating, she moved on with her life and persued her singing career with her fiance and manager Damon Wolf. But when she crosses paths with Xander again and Wilde One's need a new lead singer, old feelings start to resurface. Damon Wolf fits his name! He is a wolf in sheeps clothing and all his dirty laundry is brought to the surface.
Xander's life changes drastically as secrets are revealed and choices are made. His reasoning for hating is father is questioned. His volitile relationship with Ivy is just restarting but old insecurities can destroy even the greatest of loves. Begging the question, is being in love with someone enough? The past has ways of making it to the present.
This is a good read with twists, turns, hot sex and a hot man. If you have read Connected and Torn you will want to follow Xander through his tale.
~ Excerpt ~
Connections #3 by Kim Karr
©
2013 by Kim Karr
Published
by the Penguin Group
Release
date: June 3, 2014
Xander Wilde
The
magic of rock and roll—it casts a spell on you. I’m no exception.
I’m a band manager and I’m living the dream, touring with The
Wilde Ones, helping them secure their well-deserved place in the
music industry. I love
being a part of it all,
especially watching the band perform live—the crowds, the
cheers, the music. It’s
a high and a low all at once and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Every step of the way with this band has been fun, exciting,
stressful—every possible emotion. Obviously we’ve had some breaks
but mostly we all put in a lot of hard work—myself, Garrett Flynn,
Phoenix Harper, River Wilde, and now Zane Perry.
“Can
you hear me now?” he bellows.
I
nod my head as my heart pounds in my chest. My hands feel cold and
clammy and a nervousness that makes me weak and shaky takes over.
Doubts race through my head and I’m questioning if he’s going to
make it through this. A vague awareness that something bad could
happen kicks around in my mind and I can’t shake it. The Wilde Ones
are doing a sound check on stage and Zane’s not on his game.
It’s
July and the weather has been brutally hot. But today it seems
cooler. Maybe it’s the California weather maybe it’s the
excitement of being home. The Beautiful Lies Tour bus finally rolled
back into our home state of California after six months away. When we
pulled into the amphitheater, we could see tanned kids in board
shorts and bikini tops already lined up at the will call window.
Security guards in polo shirts directed us to the artist parking lot,
and we were officially home. Tonight we’ll be headlining our
biggest show to date. We’re on tour without my brother, River, and
still more than half of the shows are sold out, including tonight’s.
River quit the band—touring just wasn’t for him but even so the
album is on its way up the charts. Who knows it may even hit gold
status. The songs on the album were written and sung by River but are
performed in concert by Zane. Having him as my brother’s
replacement has been the key to our successful transition in a world
where replacing leads is normally unsuccessful—simply put, we’re
lucky as hell to have him. River promised to make a surprise
appearance at our next stop. It’s going to be epic.
But
tonight is all about the arena—Mountain View and the Shoreline.
“That’s enough,” I yell to the band and call rehearsal. This
place is the biggest outdoor venue we’ve played and I couldn’t be
more stoked—or more nervous. A sold out show and a rocking opening
band—what a combination. But a lead singer with another cold and a
weakened voice that can’t be heard throughout an amphitheater
scares the shit out of me.
I
head straight for the bus and spend the next few hours hashing out a
song with Nix that he calls a jumbled mess of muscular sense and
big-riff sunshine—whatever the hell that means. All I know is that
it needs help and that’s why he’s turning to me. I hadn’t
played guitar since I was eighteen but for some reason over the
course of this tour I’ve picked it back up. At first I used
whatever was lying around but last month I had my mother mail my old
one to me and it feels like home. It’s a light blue and brown
Gibson and I had to have it because it was the guitar that Slash
played on. Playing again seems to help pass the time and brings a
calm over me that I haven’t felt in awhile.
Hours
pass and before I know it, it’s almost show time. We make our way
over to the Amphitheater, do the typical festival schmooze fest, and
then settle back to wait. Waiting for them to take the stage is
always the most nerve-racking time. I’m sitting in the practically
vacant makeshift meet and greet area back stage and sipping a beer in
a worthless effort to calm my nerves when a voice travels through the
sound system. It’s a powerful and emotive mezzo-soprano range that
is nothing short of explosive. She sounds unlike any singer I’ve
ever heard before—with only one exception, Ivy Taylor. I push back
the memory of her name and the emotions it evokes—the memories are
just too painful. I
can’t see her on stage but I know that the voice belongs to Jane
Mommsen. Her band Breathless is playing right before The Wilde Ones.
A
hand on my shoulder startles me. I twist and glance up as Amy sits
down beside me, crossing her legs. “Hi, Xander. I thought I saw you
earlier at the hotel.”
She’s
a beautiful woman—long, wavy dark hair, petite figure, very natural
looking. She’s wearing jeans, a blue shirt with some kind of foil
design, and silver sandals. Grinning at her I say, “Finally we
catch up. Can I get you a drink?”
“I’d
love that. How’s life on the road been?”
“You
know, it has its ups and downs but actually not bad. You?”
“Jane’s
been going full-force for a while now. But the tour ends with the
summer. I’ll be glad to be back in LA.”
Standing
up, I laugh. “I know the feeling. I’ll be right back, let me grab
us that drink.” Tossing my empty bottle, I make my way to the
coolers lined up under the tent and grab two beers. I know she’d
rather have a glass of Chardonnay but beer it is. Amy is Jane’s
assistant and I’ve taken her out more than a few times. We went to
high school together and Amy and I know most of the same people so
whenever I need a date, I ask her. Last time I saw her was almost
nine months ago when I took her to River and Dahlia’s wedding.
Heading
back to the table I hear Jane yell out to the crowd, “Are you ready
for three of the hottest guys in music?” The audience starts
screaming and the stage lights dim cuing the guys that it’s the
fifteen-minute countdown until they take the stage. The band huddles
together in their typical pre-performance stance. I’ll have a quick
drink with Amy and then join them. As I hand her the bottle my
fingers touch hers and we both grin, knowing that we will end up
alone by the end of the night.
“You
sticking around for the whole show?”
“I
think I might,” she smiles.
“How
about we ride back to the hotel together and grab a real drink at the
bar?”
“Sounds
like a plan.”
“Great.
Time for me to get back to work.”
She
rises from the table, I do the same. She stands up on her toes and
kisses me quickly on the lips. “See you tonight,” she smiles.
“Catch
you later,” I say and then cross the room to join the band.
“You’re
late,” Nix snickers. “What’s with you two anyway?” he asks.
I
shrug my shoulders. “Nothing. We casually see each other once in a
while.”
Garrett
raises an eyebrow. “Chicks are never cool with casual.”
Shaking
my head at him, I don’t bother to disagree. Amy and I have been
doing this for years. It works for her and for me. We like each
other’s company but only see each other sporadically. I’ll call
her once in a while and we’ll go out but we are in no way
exclusive. I don’t ask her about other men and she doesn’t ask me
about other women. I grab the bottle and pour the amber liquid into
the shot glasses stacked on the cap. It’s our pre-show routine. A
shot and a prayer, so to say. It’s Garrett’s turn tonight to
‘pray’ so this should be good.
He
raises his glass. “Here’s to hoping Xander gets laid so he’ll
get off our backs.”
Tipping
my glass back, I quickly down the amber liquid. It burns as it makes
its way down my throat. Once we’ve all drank our two shot maximum
before a show Garrett follows his toast up with, “Seriously man,
you need to get laid.”
The
guys laugh and I actually join in. Jerking off in the small bathroom
on the bus is definitely one of the downsides of touring. I’ve
slept with a few girls at some of our stops but screwing groupies
isn’t really my thing. I’m not one to have time for a girlfriend
but I’m also not about to pull my dick out backstage, so it’s
been a long six months.
Zane
coughs after he slings back the shot and I look at him with concern.
“You’re going to a doctor tomorrow.”
He
shakes his head. “Yes, Mom, if you say so.”
“I’m
not kidding. Your voice sounds like shit.”
“It’s
a fucking cold. I took some medicine. I’ll be fine.”
“Doctor.
Tomorrow. I mean it. I’ll have Ena set it up.”
“I
can always sing,” Garrett chimes in and I smack the back of his
head.
“Hey.
I can.”
The
lights start to flicker and I look at Zane with that feeling of
uneasiness again. Second time this tour he’s coughing and hacking.
We’re screwed if he really gets sick. He nods at me as I pat him on
the back. Slinging his guitar over his shoulder, he heads out first
raising his arm in the air. The crowd goes crazy. The six foot guy is
a chick magnet and no one misses my brother tonight. Garrett heads
out next yelling, “Great to be here Mountain View!” and Nix
follows with his trademark nod. Zane skips his normal charming banter
and I know he must be saving his voice. Again, I think about how
we’re fucked if he gets sick.
I
stand at the edge of the stage all night until they finally come to
their last song. “It
Wasn’t Days Ago,” is a simple but crowd affecting ballad and Zane
belts it out. Shouts from nearly thirty thousand fans call for an
encore. Turning away from the microphone Zane coughs again. Biting
his thumbnail he looks over at me and I slice my finger across my
neck.
“One
more song for tonight,” he tells the screaming fans and my blood
pressure rises. “This one is a cover, an ‘ode to’ I’ll call
it. It’s for Xander Wilde, the band’s manager and it’s his
favorite song. Everyone ready?” As he starts to sing Linkin Park’s
“Iridescent,” I close my eyes and listen. When he hits the chorus
his voice gets so low my eyes snap open. Zane turns to grab a bottle
of water while the guys continue to play but I can tell something
isn’t right.
***
Last
night definitely didn’t go as planned—a visit to the ER, then
sleeping in a chair next to Zane all night on the bus because the
steroids he was given freaked him out. It’s noon and Amy and I are
just arriving at the Pelican Hill Resort. Breathless was leaving
right after the show last night so Amy had already planned to ride
with us and meet up with them in Irvine. She invited me to some party
being thrown by her band’s label that I would have rather not gone
to but Ellie, the tour manager, insisted we all go for the good PR.
I’m
exhausted and really need some sleep before dealing with the press
and tomorrow night’s show. The paparazzi have been everywhere—by
the bus as we exited to the waiting car in LA, outside the doctor’s
office, at the gates of Zane’s father’s house, and now they’re
here in Irvine at the hotel.
To
avoid the chaos awaiting us in the lobby, I call Ellie, who is
already here, and ask her to check me in and meet me at the pool bar
with the key. Draping my arm around Amy, we head that way. I’ve
been here a few times so I know my way around. Cutting through the
grotto and over to the pool and cabanas, I steer Amy to the right and
stop in my tracks as all the air rushes from my lungs.
My
body floods with adrenaline and my gut twists. I don’t even have to
do a double take because I’d know her anywhere. There’s no
mistaking her. She’s just so beautiful—the elegant planes of her
face, those high cheekbones, red lipstick, her platinum blonde hair
shorter than it used to be tucked behind her ear, that face of an
angel. She looks the same. No, she looks better. Her skin glistens in
the sun and my gaze automatically follows the shape of her long legs.
They look smooth and tan against her white bathing suit. An ache
forms in my chest as I think about running my fingers up them. She’s
still that eighteen-year-old girl I once knew but now she has the
body of a woman—lean and toned and full of curves. When she moves
it’s so familiar it doesn’t seem like a day has passed—and
everything I ever felt for her, it’s all still inside me.
My
pulse races at the mere sight of her. She’s lounging in the
cushioned chair reading a magazine just outside a cabana. My heart
slams harder in my chest when she sticks her earphones in her ears
like she always used to do and it transports me back to the last time
I saw her do the very same thing. We’d skipped school and were at
my grandparents’ house—their pool. She was lying on the lounge
chair listening to music and singing along—her voice so full of
soul. I’d moved to sit with her under the guise of putting lotion
of her back. She sat up and smiled that shy smile she didn’t need
to have when she was with me. I squeezed the tube into my hand and
after rubbing them together I slowly applied it to her back kneading
my way up and down, touching every inch of her that I could.
It
brings me back to the here and now when she suddenly sits up and
looks over at me. Her eyes pin me in place. She looks at me as if she
remembers me for who I was, what we were, not what I did to her. With
my chest pounding, memories of us keep flashing through my mind.
Fighting a smile, I wonder if she’s thinking the same
thing—remembering what we were, what we shared, how we loved.
She
quickly breaks our connection when she averts her eyes over to the
man handing her a drink. I suck in a deep breath trying not to feel
sick at the sight. He’s nearing fifty, wearing a terrycloth robe.
He’s about my height, dark brown hair, meticulously groomed facial
hair, and not exactly ripped but fit. He’s Damon Wolf, a man I’ve
never actually met but hate all the same. I’ve seen their picture
on TV and in magazines. He’s her agent, her fiancĂ©, and I’m sure
he’s the reason she’s not singing anymore.
She
looks up at him with that same forced smile she used to give people
she just wanted to appease and mouths “thank you.” I have a
sudden urge to go over and deck him when her gaze shifts back to mine
and he pulls her chin back to look at him. I can sense a discomfort
between them. We could sense each other’s feelings even when we
weren’t near each other.
Amy’s
hand slides down my face and I have to blink a few times before I can
hear what she’s saying. Glancing one last time at Ivy I see that
she’s staring at me again. Then suddenly her mouth forms a scowl
and she flicks her attention toward him. Hooking her arm around his
neck, she pulls him down for a kiss and I think I might throw up.
“Are
you okay?”
I
nod. Not able to say a word.
“Isn’t
that Ivy Taylor over there? The girl you used to date in high
school?” Amy asks. There’s an irritated tone to her voice I’m
not used to hearing and it makes me agitated.
“Yeah,
it is,” is all I say. She’s not just a girl I used to date…she’s
the only girl I ever really loved. She’s also the girl whose heart
I broke. Seeing her now brings back all those feelings I blocked,
ignored, tucked aside. So many times over the years I wanted to go
after her and tell her the truth—but I never did. Why I don’t
know. Then one day it was too late—she had gotten engaged.
Amy
chatters on. “I think that’s Damon Wolf with her. We should go
say hi.”
My
body goes cold and my face blank at the thought. I straighten and
just as I’m about to say, “No fucking way,” my phone vibrates
in my pocket. Squinting at the screen, I see that it’s my brother.
I look over to Amy and motion toward the bar. “Hey, this is River.
I need to take it. I’ll meet you over there in a minute.”
“That’s
fine. We can catch up with them later. I’ll go order us a drink.”
She smiles and starts toward the bar.
Turning
around to avoid staring at Ivy, I answer the phone. “It took you
long enough to call me back.”
“I
was in a meeting and stepped out as soon as I could, so don’t
start. What did the doctor say about Zane?”
“He’s
out for the rest of the tour and we’re fucked.”
“You
sure? You’re back in LA for almost two weeks after tomorrow night
right? Isn’t that enough time for him to heal?”
“Technically
yes. But his old man wants him out. The doctor said that he couldn’t
be sure how long the blood that accumulated under his vocal cords had
been there but obviously last night, the amount of ruptured vessels
was enough to cause his voice to change. He advised at least two
weeks of rest before another evaluation to see if surgery is
necessary. Zeak wants his son to take a longer period of time off.
He’s just afraid that if Zane keeps singing and it keeps happening,
scar tissue will build up and cause his voice to change forever.”
“Do
you blame him?”
“No
I don’t,” I tell River and I feel like shit that I have to put
him in a position to do what he didn’t want to do in the first
place. But I also know that if I don’t, the band won’t survive.
If I have to cancel this tour—the Wilde Ones are done. So I ask,
“Did you talk to Dahlia?”
He
sighs. “Yeah, I did. She’s cool with it, Xander. I’m just
trying to figure it all out.”
“You
know I’ll do whatever you need me to do, right?”
“Shit
why can’t you just be an ass and make it easy for me to say no?”
“Because
you have no idea what this means to me.”
“Actually
I do, and that’s why I’m going to make it happen. But Xander,
remember I can’t play a twelve string.”
Laughter
and relief take hold of me. I feel a huge weight lifted off my
shoulders. “Right now I wouldn’t care if you only played the
violin,” I joke.
He
laughs and I add, “You’ll be here tonight?”
Now
he sounds slightly annoyed. “I said I would. We might be a little
late so don’t get your panties in a wad.”
“That’s
cool. Thanks for everything. Hey, one more thing.’
“What?”
“Ivy
Taylor’s here.”
“No
way. Have you talked to her?”
“Fuck
no. You know she won’t talk to me. And besides she’s with that
asshole.”
“You
should talk to her. Tell her the truth.”
“What’s
that going to do now? She’ll just think I’m lying.”
“You
want me to talk to her? I can explain everything.”
“No.
I don’t need my little brother to fight my battles. I’ll talk to
her if I feel the time is right. Do you hear me?”
“Whatever
you say. Look, I have to run but I want to discuss this later. And
Xander…you don’t know he’s an asshole. Just because Dad said
his name once doesn’t mean shit.”
“Right.
Okay, see you tonight,” I say and end the call. My head is spinning
knowing that after all these years I’m actually in the same place
she is. I want to talk to her, tell her everything but what would it
matter now anyway. Glancing behind me, I catch another glimpse of her
with him that turns my stomach. He’s such a slime ball. Since his
father was hospitalized and he took over the business, he’s been
scooping up labels, tearing them apart, and rebuilding them with
bands he thinks are better fits. My guess is he picked up Jane’s
label—that’s why he’s here. I heard they were having some
financial difficulty and he’s just the kind of bottom feeder that
would want to capitalize on not only being her agent but now also her
producer. The sight of him touching Ivy makes my skin crawl.
Damon
Wolf—two of the last words my father ever spoke to me before
killing himself, and I never knew why. Of all the guys in the world
Ivy had to end up with him—why him? I look up and they’re gone.
But I’m anything but relieved. Rubbing my chin, I’m antsy,
agitated, pissed as hell, but feel more alive than I have in years.
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