~ Summary ~
After his mother dies, rock star Ace White—lead singer of
the red-hot band Wicked White—is done with the celebrity game. The phony people,
the meaningless one-night stands: he doesn’t want any of it anymore. Quitting
in the middle of a sold-out tour, Ace sets out to find some place—any
place—where he can be alone.
Aspiring singer Iris Easton’s life has never been easy.
First, her mother walked out on her when she was a kid. Now she’s buried in
debt, weeks after losing her beloved grandmother. When a mysterious and sexy
new guy moves in next door, Iris can’t help but be drawn to his soulful gaze.
She can tell there’s something from his past haunting him—something he’s not
telling her.
Just as Ace starts falling for Iris, the media go on a
worldwide hunt to find the missing rocker. Will true love conquer all, or will
the truth be the very thing that tears the couple apart?
~ Review ~
5 Stars
I really enjoyed Wicked White. It's a story about a rockstar
who has had enough. He realizes his manager isn't his friend, his band mates
are pissing him off, and his fans are smothering him. To make matters worse,
Ace's adopted mother, the only woman who ever cared for him, is dying. Ace's
solution is to disappear.
Iris is a girl whos grandmother died and left Iris to deal
with the mobile home court she owned. This isn't Iris' dream though. She wants
to be on Broadway. And now there is a sexy new tenant who is distracting her
too.
While the story is a predictable, I really loved the
characters. I felt their internal battles to tell the truth about who they are.
I also felt their courage and strength to get through life together. I can't
wait to see what's next!
~ Excerpt ~
“Iris…that was amazing. You’ve got so much talent,” I
praise.
Her green eyes light up with excitement like a child’s do on
Christmas morning. “You really think so? You’re not just saying that?”
“No. I never bullshit about music. You’ve definitely got the
chops for Broadway, it’s just…” I hesitate, not wanting to hurt her feelings,
but I know that in order for her to get better, she has to be told what she’s
doing wrong.
She lays her hand on my forearm. “Please, tell me. I can
take it. Promise.”
I stand beside her, so close that my chest nearly touches
her shoulder. I’m itching to touch her, but I won’t do it without permission.
“May I touch you?”
She draws in a ragged breath and then nods. “Yes.”
I curl the fingers of my right hand around her right
shoulder and pull back a little so that her posture is perpendicular to the
floor. At this angle, I can’t help but notice her heaving chest and how her
perky tits move in sync with each breath she takes.
I slide my left hand against her toned stomach and my pinkie
grazes the warm patch of skin that’s exposed between her T-shirt and the
waistband of her jeans.
Our contact is fucking electric, and my own breathing picks
up speed as I attempt to fight back the arousal I feel for her boiling beneath my
surface.
“Everything about you is magnetic,” I whisper in her ear,
and she shivers at the words. “Don’t be afraid to open your eyes and watch your
audience enjoy you. Be confident and project. Let go.”
I let go of her shoulder, and move to face her before
pressing the repeat button on the machine. As the intro of the song plays, I
say, “Do it again, but this time I want you to look at me.”
This time when she opens her mouth to sing, when she begins
to tip her head down, I slide my index finger under her chin and angle her head
so that she’s forced to peer into my eyes.
Her words are just barely above a whisper, so I slip my hand
back on her abdomen and say, “Project--from here. Sing it like you mean it.”
It’s like lightening strikes this beautiful woman in my arms
as she sings to me without fear. The words of the song come out effortlessly,
and her voice could rival any of the greatest female vocalists of all time.
She’s that damn stunning.
I nod approvingly and smile. “Yes!”
With that little bit of encouragement, she shocks me even
more when she pushes herself to hit notes that are above and beyond what she
reached the first time.
Only on the last lyric does she close her eyes while she
holds the note there until the music stops. She releases a contented sigh as
soon as the music ends, and when her beautiful eyes meet mine again, they swirl
with emotion.
Completely blown away, I fumble with the words to tell her
just how impressed I am. “Iris, that was--”
Without warning, she throws her arms around my neck and
crushes her lips against mine. I know kissing her back is wrong, but I’ll be
damned if I don’t want her so badly at this point that I can’t stop myself from
giving in. I’ve been so good with restraining myself when it comes to Iris,
because protecting her from the chaos that I’ll bring her is what’s always been
on the forefront of my mind.
Her fingers thrust into my hair, and I reach down and curl
my hands around her thighs before hoisting her into the air. Instinctively she
wraps her legs around my waist, and I thread one of my hands into her tousled
curls while the other is busy cupping that perfect ass of hers.
“I’ve wanted you since you walked into my trailer,” she
breathes against my lips.
A thrill shoots through me at her admission of how long
she’s wanted me. “You’ve been driving me out of my mind from the moment I first
saw you.”
“Then take me.”
***
~ Author Biography ~
Michelle A. Valentine is the New York Times and USA Today
bestselling author of Rock the Heart. Wicked White is the first novel in her
Wicked White romance series. She attended college as a drafting and design
major, but her love of people soon persuaded her to join the nursing field. It
wasn’t until after the birth of her son that she began her love affair with
romance novels, and she hasn’t looked back since. When she’s not writing, she
feeds her music addiction, dabbles in party planning, and expresses herself by
working with arts and crafts. She currently lives in Columbus, Ohio, with her husband,
son, and two beloved dogs.
~ Social Networking Links ~
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