Blog Tour~ Beat

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Meet Flynn and Lucky in this rock star romance!
AVAILABLE NOW!


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Watch the trailer for Beat āžœ http://bit.ly/1yZD0Am
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Blurb
Dimpled smile of a boy
Hard body of a man
Sings like an angel
Fucks like the devil
I was stuck between a rock(star) and a hard place.
At fifteen, his poster hung on my bedroom wall.  At twenty-five his body hovered over mine.  Every girlā€™s fantasy became my reality.  I was dating a rockstar.  Yet I was slowly falling for another man.  The problem wasā€”the two menā€”they shared a tour bus.    
Flynn Beckham was the opening act.
Dylan Ryder was the headliner.
What happens when the opening act begins to shine so bright, it seems to dim everything else in its wake?
Iā€™ll tell you what happens.  Things get ugly.  
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Excerpt


Getting through Flynn singing is incredibly hard.  The way his throat moves, the way his mouth caresses each syllable of the low, raspy sound that falls from his lips.  I should be watching his posture, his breathing, the way his larynx forces out the wordsā€”but instead Iā€™m focused on the beauty of his mouth and how the sound of his voice glides over my body, making it feel both warm and tingly at the same time.  Iā€™m lost when the song finishes, yet I havenā€™t really observed him yet.
ā€œSo.  Give it to me straight.  What am I doing wrong?ā€
Ummmā€¦absolutely nothing from what I can see.  Everything was perfect.  Donā€™t change a thing.  Shit.  ā€œCould you do it again?  Maybe a different song, one you havenā€™t sung in a while.  So the sounds are less familiar to your body.  Sometimes that can give me a different view.ā€  At least I make it sound like a real thing when the words come out.
He sings again, and this time I force myself to observe.  ā€œHmmā€¦your posture is great.  Most people have a tendency to favor one side of their neck, which makes them tilt a bit when they speak, and it becomes magnified when they sing, which puts strain on the muscles around the vocal cords.  Your alignment is perfect.ā€
ā€œThank you, it goes with the rest of my perfectness,ā€ he says with a teasing arrogance that, from the little I know about him, I know isnā€™t real.
ā€œYou didnā€™t let me finish.ā€
ā€œYou canā€™t now tell me Iā€™m not perfect.  I was already basking in the glow.ā€
ā€œActually, it was perfectā€¦but almost a little too perfect.  Which makes me think you donā€™t usually stand this way when you sing.ā€
ā€œIt isnā€™t the way I normally sing.  On stage, I usually have a guitar over my shoulder.  Even if Iā€™m not playing it, itā€™s there.ā€
ā€œWell, I need to see you holding your instrument to assess you fully, then.ā€
Flynnā€™s eyebrows quirk up and the dirty grin on his face is unmistakable.
ā€œThe guitar.  Iā€™d need to see you holding the guitar.ā€
ā€œThatā€™s a shame.ā€  He shrugs, the playful smile still on his face.  ā€œBut okay.  Itā€™s your call.  Whatever instrument you want to see me hold is fine with me.ā€
ā€œHow big of you.ā€
ā€œSo now weā€™re talking about the other instrument again?ā€
I roll my eyes, although this conversation is having more of an effect on me than I let on.


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Excerpt
Despite the fact that Lucky had just casually mentioned that the lobby lounge serves coffee beginning at six a.m., Iā€™m pretty sure of myself that sheā€™ll be down there.  But when I step off the elevator, the lobby is quiet.  Empty.  The coffee urns are just being set up in the lounge.  I pour two mugs, make them just as we like it, and settle on one of the couches on the far side of the room where itā€™s private, yet I can still keep an eye on the door.
I grab a newspaper and begin to flip through to kill time.  Then my eyes catch a pair of pink-painted toes in flip-flops.  I donā€™t know why, but itā€™s in this moment that I realize, Iā€™m fucked.
The sight of her toes makes me smile.
Iā€™m falling for another guyā€™s girl.  Something I promised myself Iā€™d never do.
But then I reason with myself.  I havenā€™t done anything wrong.  Thinking a woman is beautiful and spending time with her doesnā€™t have to turn into anything, right?  Theyā€™re just toes after all.  But look how cute they are.  Iā€™ve never been a foot guy, yet I wouldnā€™t mind suckingā€¦  Stop.  Just stop.  Weā€™re just friends.
Because Iā€™ve been friends with so many hot women in the past and not fucked them?  Yep.  Iā€™m screwed.  I need to get the hell out of here.
ā€œGood morning,ā€ she whispers and smiles down at me.  My eyes lazily travel up from her toes.
Iā€™m totally not going anywhere.
I hold up her mug of coffee.  And then I realize she still has the thin shirt she wears to sleep on and Iā€™m eye-level with the sexiest taut nipples Iā€™ve ever seen.
Screw sucking her toesā€¦ ā€œCertainly is.ā€  I grin.


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Excerpt
Ten minutes later Iā€™m still alone behind the bar and Avery is nowhere to be found.  Iā€™m sure sheā€™s in the back alley smoking, even though she swears every day that sheā€™s quit.  I check the IDs of three very young-looking pretty girlsā€”theyā€™re over twenty-one, but barely.  I canā€™t miss their conversation.
ā€œSeriously, he has to be gay.ā€
ā€œWhy, because he hasnā€™t noticed you yet?ā€
ā€œNo, because heā€™s too perfect to be straight.ā€
ā€œCould we buy someone a drink?ā€ one of the young blondes asks me.
ā€œOf course.  What do you want me to send over?ā€
They giggle for a few minutes, then decide on a Screaming Orgasm for their intended target.  I mix the vodka, Baileyā€™s and Kahlua and pour it over a tumbler of ice.
ā€œOkay.  Whoā€™s the lucky recipient?ā€
All three of them point to the other end of the bar and say in unison, ā€œHim.ā€
Lord.  That is one beautiful man.
The three blondes were clearly not the only ones to notice.  The brunette next to him with her full boobage on display is giving him her rapt attention when I walk over.  Yet I feel his eyes on me as I walk down the long bar.  Iā€™m used to being hit on.  Men seem to find an attractive woman whose sole purpose is to deliver them alcohol an alluring combination.  They tend to become even bolder after tossing back a few drinks.
Halfway down the bar, I stop to refill a beer for a patron.  I donā€™t need to look up as I pour to know Beautiful Man is still watching me.  The hair on the back of my neck is all the confirmation I need.  He never takes his gaze off me, even when I turn, catch his eyes, and silently call him on his staring.
ā€œIā€™m here to deliver you a Screaming Orgasm.ā€  Damn, heā€™s even hotter up close.  Sandy-brown, shoulder-length hair tousled just the right amount to make him look like heā€™s just gotten laid.  Long, lean torso, tattoos on his forearms peeking out from his long-sleeve fitted shirt.  Nice.  Then he smiles.  Dimples.  Yep.  He definitely just got laid.
ā€œThank you.  But I have a ladies-first policy.ā€  He winks.
I stare at him for a moment, then drop my eyes down to the drink, leading him to follow.
ā€œOh.  You meant the drink.ā€ He smirksā€”itā€™s sexy as hell, and he knows it.
I roll my eyes, but thereā€™s a reluctant smile hidden just beneath the surface.  ā€œItā€™s from the three barely legal ladies down at the end.ā€  I nod in their direction and all three smile broadly and wave.
ā€œWell, thatā€™s disappointing.ā€
I arch an eyebrow.  ā€œThose three women buying you a drink with a name that tells you what their plans are for you later is a disappointment?ā€
ā€œI thought you were buying me the drink.ā€
Cheesy, I know, but thereā€™s a flutter in my stomach nonetheless. ā€œSorry.  But you get the Doublemint triplets as a consolation prize.ā€  I shrug, trying to come off nonchalant, and turn to walk away.  This close to him, the guy is making me fidget.  Itā€™s a big bar, but the way he looks at me makes me feel like weā€™re in a confined space.
ā€œWait,ā€ he calls after me, and I turn back.  ā€œWhatā€™s your name?ā€
I smile and point at the sign over the bar.  Luckyā€™s.  


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Lucky has her dream, A bar that she loves named after her. The rocker that she fantasized about now sleeps in her bed. Yeah she was living the dream, except she was living part of her dream she still had the fear of doing what she really wanted... to sing on stage. Enter Flynn.
Yeah when he enters the bar one night her last night as she tries to get closer to achieving her dream of singing by helping other as a coach. In comes a dream of another kind! A fine piece of beautiful and sexy and a voice that would make angels weep! Flynn turns her life upside down ans she finds her self rethinking what she once thought was well planned out.
I love, love, Love Flynn loved him in the first book and now I absolutely adore him and his sexy eyes and swagger and OMG the way he is with his niece~ swoon!~
Vi never fails to capture me right from the get go. Yeah I fell in and was sucked till I had it completely all done. Then what did I do? I read it again only if to just see those eyes from the cover in my mind as he speaks to Lucky(who is me)LOL.
You want drama, yup we got that in this book as well cuz yeah you get it in the blurb she has a man when we start this book, which makes for an interesting read cuz...Flynn is swoon worthy through out the hole book. Intense romantic and sexy you are gonna love Beat!


Additional Books by Vi Keeland
Throb
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1zk882K


Worth the Fight (MMA Fighter Series, Book One)
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1alpVES
Smashwords - http://bit.ly/1is0zNX


Worth The Chance (MMA Fighter Series, Book Two)


Worth Forgiving (MMA Fighter Series, Book Three)


Belong to You (A Cole Novel, Book One)


Made For You (A Cole Novel, Book Two)


First Thing I See (Stand Alone)


Left Behind (Stand Alone)
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1wvew5K


About the Author:
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Vi Keeland is a native New Yorker with three children that occupy most of her free time, which she complains about often, but wouldn't change for the world. She is a bookworm and has been known to read her kindle at stop lights, while styling her hair, cleaning, walking, during sporting events, and frequently while pretending to work.  She is a boring attorney by day, and an exciting smut author by night!



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