Release Blitz~ Plowed by Kristen Luciani & Rebecca Manuel
Title: Plowed
Author: Kristen Luciani & Rebecca Manuel
Genre: New Adult Rocker Romance
Release Date: October 31, 2016
Blurb
Sexy rock god Daxton Cole has everythingā¦ and nothing that can bring him peace.
Music, whiskey, pills, parades of silicone-enhanced groupies keeping his bed warm at any given timeā¦ none of it soothes his wounded soul. The demons always win.
His life is a toxic existence on a permanent loop, like a bad 80s movie.
Untilā¦
Sara Russell, the junior publicist hired to salvage his tarnished image, plows into him. Innocent, naĆÆve, and pure, sheās the only one who can piece together what has long been shattered.
But sometimes, when youāre so broken, itās impossible to become whole again.
And even more impossible to save anyone else.
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SMASHWORDS
EXCERPT
āDax, where the hell are you going?ā Finnās question was followed by a yawn so loud, it could have woken the inhabitants of the neighboring buses. āWe have sound check in an hour.ā
Daxton ran a hand through his tousled, gel-crunched hair and pulled on a Houston Astros baseball cap. āIām going for a run.ā
āSorry, I donāt speak that language. Come again?ā
āI need to clear my head, okay? Buy me some time. Iāll be back.ā
āSince when do you run? Donāt you want to get breakfast instead? Bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich, home fries, coffee?ā
āLook, it was a shitty night. I need to get out for a while. Alone.ā
āDude, Merrick is gonnaāā
āHeāll deal. Iāll see you later.ā
Daxton slid open the tour bus door, breathing in the crisp, fresh air. Nobody in sight. Great, he finally had a chance to escape the questions he couldnāt answer, questions he didnāt even want to acknowledge.
The sun peeked over the clouds as he sank into a hamstring stretch. His muscles were so tight, just like the knot that had taken up residence at the base of his skull. Ironic. Excessive booze normally had the opposite effect. And heād pretty much drank himself sober after last nightās debacle. How the hell had that guy gotten so close?
He rubbed the back of his neck, desperate to relieve the knot. āDammit!ā
āRough night?ā
That raspy voice made him jump about twenty feet into the air. Christ, did she know how sexy her voice sounded in the morning? Heād love to hear it waking him up after a very sleepless night infused with lots of carnal pleasures. Oh, fuck yeah.
āI didnāt mean to startle you.ā Sara twirled her ponytail around her index finger, a sleepy smile on her face. The soft morning light danced atop her head, half-hooded green eyes making his cock twitch. Shit, even at this ungodly hour of the morning?
āI didnāt expect anyone else to be awake.ā
āThought youād escape unnoticed, huh?ā Sara smirked. āIām going for a run. Figured it was my only chance for some peace and quiet before Merrick assigns me his list of errands for the day.ā
āUh-huh.ā His eyes raked over the curves poured into hot pink spandex, mind unable to formulate a thought beyond peeling her out of those constricting clothes. Immediately, if not sooner.
āOkay, then.ā
āOkay, what?ā
She grabbed her ankles one at a time, pulling each toward to her perfect ass, stretching her quads. āLetās go. You shouldnāt be by yourself, anyway.ā
āSo youāre gonna protect me?ā
Her pink lips curled into a sly smile. āItās my job. Now stop procrastinating and move.ā
āYouāre kind of pushy. Why canāt we ease into it? Nice and slow to start?ā
āNice and slow, huh? Kind of shocking. You donāt seem the type.ā
He stretched his arms over his head. āI donāt know what youāre implying. I was talking about running.ā
āSure you were.ā She tightened her ponytail. āTrust me, youāll feel better once you sweat out all the alcohol.ā
A slow trot increased in intensity much too quickly, and soon, they were circling the arena parking lot at full speed. Focus, focus, focus! His primary objective was not to collapse. A sidelong glance confirmed Sara had barely broken a sweat since theyād started. No words were exchanged, which was a good thing, since he couldnāt catch a single breath. A burning sensation erupted in the pit of his belly, spreading through his lungs, singeing his insides. His legs, now feeling more like Jell-O than actual limbs, were on the brink of revolution. Why didnāt he grab a bottle of water? Panting only made his mouth drier, as if it wasnāt already more arid than the Sahara at midday. Sweat drizzled into his eyes, blurring his vision. How many more times were they going to make this death loop?
Sara pivoted to face him, tiny beads of perspiration glistening along her hairline, the only sign she was exerting herself at all. Jogging backwards. Not even changing her gait. He was a step above pathetic ā a very short step.
āHow is it that you canāt even make it a mile without looking like youāre about to pass out?ā
Great, he needed to speak now?
āItās not likeā¦Iāmā¦Britney Spearsā¦shaking my assā¦all over the stage.ā His calf muscles ached as his sneakers pounded the pavement. Bacon, egg, and cheese had been a very delicious alternative, and he opted out for this self-inflicted torture? āI play guitarā¦and singā¦doesnāt requireā¦cardio.ā He mopped his face with the edge of the t-shirt. āHow the hellā¦are youā¦able to do this? I donāt thinkā¦your boyā¦friend isā¦keeping youā¦up lateā¦enough.ā
Croaking out those last words nearly killed him, for multiple reasons.
āYou should really consider traveling with an oxygen mask.ā She flipped around, giving him a glimpse of her shapely backside, just about the only thing keeping him going. āAnd, just so you know, heās not my boyfriend anymore.ā
āNot yourā¦boyāā A sharp pain shot through his foot, stopping him mid-stride. āAhh!ā His body rocketed forward, arms flailing, sending him to the pebbly concrete lot with nothing to cushion the blow except his pride.
Thump!
āHoly crap, are you okay?ā Sara fell to the ground where he was writhing in agony, bits of pebble mashed into his skin. āWhere does it hurt?ā
He let out a loud groan and fell backward. āFuck. Everywhere!ā
āDo you think anythingās broken?ā Her hand squeezed his and for the briefest of seconds, the presence of his very intense pain faded, replaced by Saraās compassion, worry, and genuine concern. Somebody actually cared. That hadnāt happened inā¦shit, long enough that he couldnāt pinpoint an amount of time. It felt nice. Until the agony crashed over him again like a tsunami.
Sitting up was a struggle, but dammit, he was already hovering on the brink of being a complete and total pansy ass. Ignore the pain. Find out what happened with the boyfriend. Even a fall like that couldnāt quell his curiosity. He had to know, even if he was going to be in traction and unable to do anything about it for the foreseeable future.
āAm I allowed to ask what happened?ā
A look of shock flitted across Saraās face, quickly followed by a snicker. āWow. Your focus is impressive, even with four potentially broken limbs.ā Her playful tone couldnāt mask her nerves, though. She toyed with her ponytail again, normally bright green eyes darkening. āI walked in to find Laney riding him like she was competing for the Triple Crown.ā
āHorse racing fan?ā
āYeah, we have a horse farm back home. Raised several thoroughbreds. I always loved to ride.ā She averted her eyes, but not before he caught a glimpse of what sheād been trying to shield.
āWhereās home?ā
āMinnesota.ā She sat back on her heels, eyes still guarded. Conversation over. āSo, what do you think? Are you able to hoof it back to the buses?ā
āEli is a fucking idiot.ā
A slow smile brightened her flushed face. āAgreed.ā She held out a hand. āCome on, letās see if those legs still work.ā
āAre you gonna carry me if they donāt?ā
āYou donāt pay me enough.ā
Gritting his teeth, he pulled himself to his feet. āChrist, I feel like Iāve been run over by a freight train.ā
Sara snaked an arm around his waist, hoisting him against her. āTake it slow, okay? You said you liked that.ā
The scent of citrus wafted into the air between them. So delicious, like a fruit salad. How could she still smell so good after that run? āYeah...I figured youād use that against me soon enough.ā
āCan I ask you something?ā
āLooks like we have lots of time to kill before we make it back to camp. Shoot.ā
āWhat happened last night? Who was the guy?ā
āI donāt know what youāre talking about.ā How the hell did she even know?
āIām sure your little groupies love the coy act, but Iāll pass.ā She cocked an eyebrow. āDaxton, Iām part of your PR team. Itās my job to know everything that goes on during this tour. Sean from security told me someone approached you. I canāt do damage control without all the facts. Who was he, and what did he want? Or, maybe a better question might be what does he know?ā
His face twisted into a grimace with each step. The buses werenāt even in sight. With any luck, theyād make it back by lunchtime. āYou ever feel like youāre suffocating? That thereās air all around, but you just canāt breathe it in? Like your body resists what it needs to survive, and you feel like youāre constantly drowning? Thatās how I feel most of the time. The air, everything around me ā what people see, what they want to believe, judgments they make based on half-truths ā itās all toxic. Better not to inhale. The lesser of two evils, but either way, Iām fucked.ā
She nodded, her hair tickling his shoulder. āI do know what you mean.ā Her voice was soft, sad. There was something beneath that snarky exterior, something he was desperate to uncover, but her demeanor begged him not to press.
They walked for a few silent minutes that seemed to stretch into hours. He clenched and unclenched his fists as waves of pain assaulted his ankle. āShit, that hurts.ā
āI donāt think you should push it. Let me call Merrick.ā
āNo.ā He stopped, teetering on one leg. āPlease. Not yet. Can we just sit down for a minute?ā
āOf course.ā She eased him to the ground and sank onto the pavement. āIs there anything I canā?ā
āThe guy from last night said he knew my mother.ā Daxton held his head, expelling a deep breath. āShe disappeared after my brother died last year, without a trace. Without a warning. One day, she was there; the next, gone. With her clothes, car, jewelry. Everythingā¦gone. My dad made a half-hearted attempt to find her, but I was too angry to try. Iād just lost my best friend, and my mother picked that time to bail. We should have been there for each other, but she didnāt care enough to even say goodbye.ā
āIām so sorry.ā Sara grasped his hand. Her skin was so soft against his calloused fingers. It was an occupational hazard for a guitarist.
āI donāt want to have anything to do with her. She abandoned her family. Things between her and my dad were never great, but what the hell did I ever do to her?ā
āSo you had security get rid of him.ā
Daxton ran a hand through his tousled, gel-crunched hair and pulled on a Houston Astros baseball cap. āIām going for a run.ā
āSorry, I donāt speak that language. Come again?ā
āI need to clear my head, okay? Buy me some time. Iāll be back.ā
āSince when do you run? Donāt you want to get breakfast instead? Bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich, home fries, coffee?ā
āLook, it was a shitty night. I need to get out for a while. Alone.ā
āDude, Merrick is gonnaāā
āHeāll deal. Iāll see you later.ā
Daxton slid open the tour bus door, breathing in the crisp, fresh air. Nobody in sight. Great, he finally had a chance to escape the questions he couldnāt answer, questions he didnāt even want to acknowledge.
The sun peeked over the clouds as he sank into a hamstring stretch. His muscles were so tight, just like the knot that had taken up residence at the base of his skull. Ironic. Excessive booze normally had the opposite effect. And heād pretty much drank himself sober after last nightās debacle. How the hell had that guy gotten so close?
He rubbed the back of his neck, desperate to relieve the knot. āDammit!ā
āRough night?ā
That raspy voice made him jump about twenty feet into the air. Christ, did she know how sexy her voice sounded in the morning? Heād love to hear it waking him up after a very sleepless night infused with lots of carnal pleasures. Oh, fuck yeah.
āI didnāt mean to startle you.ā Sara twirled her ponytail around her index finger, a sleepy smile on her face. The soft morning light danced atop her head, half-hooded green eyes making his cock twitch. Shit, even at this ungodly hour of the morning?
āI didnāt expect anyone else to be awake.ā
āThought youād escape unnoticed, huh?ā Sara smirked. āIām going for a run. Figured it was my only chance for some peace and quiet before Merrick assigns me his list of errands for the day.ā
āUh-huh.ā His eyes raked over the curves poured into hot pink spandex, mind unable to formulate a thought beyond peeling her out of those constricting clothes. Immediately, if not sooner.
āOkay, then.ā
āOkay, what?ā
She grabbed her ankles one at a time, pulling each toward to her perfect ass, stretching her quads. āLetās go. You shouldnāt be by yourself, anyway.ā
āSo youāre gonna protect me?ā
Her pink lips curled into a sly smile. āItās my job. Now stop procrastinating and move.ā
āYouāre kind of pushy. Why canāt we ease into it? Nice and slow to start?ā
āNice and slow, huh? Kind of shocking. You donāt seem the type.ā
He stretched his arms over his head. āI donāt know what youāre implying. I was talking about running.ā
āSure you were.ā She tightened her ponytail. āTrust me, youāll feel better once you sweat out all the alcohol.ā
A slow trot increased in intensity much too quickly, and soon, they were circling the arena parking lot at full speed. Focus, focus, focus! His primary objective was not to collapse. A sidelong glance confirmed Sara had barely broken a sweat since theyād started. No words were exchanged, which was a good thing, since he couldnāt catch a single breath. A burning sensation erupted in the pit of his belly, spreading through his lungs, singeing his insides. His legs, now feeling more like Jell-O than actual limbs, were on the brink of revolution. Why didnāt he grab a bottle of water? Panting only made his mouth drier, as if it wasnāt already more arid than the Sahara at midday. Sweat drizzled into his eyes, blurring his vision. How many more times were they going to make this death loop?
Sara pivoted to face him, tiny beads of perspiration glistening along her hairline, the only sign she was exerting herself at all. Jogging backwards. Not even changing her gait. He was a step above pathetic ā a very short step.
āHow is it that you canāt even make it a mile without looking like youāre about to pass out?ā
Great, he needed to speak now?
āItās not likeā¦Iāmā¦Britney Spearsā¦shaking my assā¦all over the stage.ā His calf muscles ached as his sneakers pounded the pavement. Bacon, egg, and cheese had been a very delicious alternative, and he opted out for this self-inflicted torture? āI play guitarā¦and singā¦doesnāt requireā¦cardio.ā He mopped his face with the edge of the t-shirt. āHow the hellā¦are youā¦able to do this? I donāt thinkā¦your boyā¦friend isā¦keeping youā¦up lateā¦enough.ā
Croaking out those last words nearly killed him, for multiple reasons.
āYou should really consider traveling with an oxygen mask.ā She flipped around, giving him a glimpse of her shapely backside, just about the only thing keeping him going. āAnd, just so you know, heās not my boyfriend anymore.ā
āNot yourā¦boyāā A sharp pain shot through his foot, stopping him mid-stride. āAhh!ā His body rocketed forward, arms flailing, sending him to the pebbly concrete lot with nothing to cushion the blow except his pride.
Thump!
āHoly crap, are you okay?ā Sara fell to the ground where he was writhing in agony, bits of pebble mashed into his skin. āWhere does it hurt?ā
He let out a loud groan and fell backward. āFuck. Everywhere!ā
āDo you think anythingās broken?ā Her hand squeezed his and for the briefest of seconds, the presence of his very intense pain faded, replaced by Saraās compassion, worry, and genuine concern. Somebody actually cared. That hadnāt happened inā¦shit, long enough that he couldnāt pinpoint an amount of time. It felt nice. Until the agony crashed over him again like a tsunami.
Sitting up was a struggle, but dammit, he was already hovering on the brink of being a complete and total pansy ass. Ignore the pain. Find out what happened with the boyfriend. Even a fall like that couldnāt quell his curiosity. He had to know, even if he was going to be in traction and unable to do anything about it for the foreseeable future.
āAm I allowed to ask what happened?ā
A look of shock flitted across Saraās face, quickly followed by a snicker. āWow. Your focus is impressive, even with four potentially broken limbs.ā Her playful tone couldnāt mask her nerves, though. She toyed with her ponytail again, normally bright green eyes darkening. āI walked in to find Laney riding him like she was competing for the Triple Crown.ā
āHorse racing fan?ā
āYeah, we have a horse farm back home. Raised several thoroughbreds. I always loved to ride.ā She averted her eyes, but not before he caught a glimpse of what sheād been trying to shield.
āWhereās home?ā
āMinnesota.ā She sat back on her heels, eyes still guarded. Conversation over. āSo, what do you think? Are you able to hoof it back to the buses?ā
āEli is a fucking idiot.ā
A slow smile brightened her flushed face. āAgreed.ā She held out a hand. āCome on, letās see if those legs still work.ā
āAre you gonna carry me if they donāt?ā
āYou donāt pay me enough.ā
Gritting his teeth, he pulled himself to his feet. āChrist, I feel like Iāve been run over by a freight train.ā
Sara snaked an arm around his waist, hoisting him against her. āTake it slow, okay? You said you liked that.ā
The scent of citrus wafted into the air between them. So delicious, like a fruit salad. How could she still smell so good after that run? āYeah...I figured youād use that against me soon enough.ā
āCan I ask you something?ā
āLooks like we have lots of time to kill before we make it back to camp. Shoot.ā
āWhat happened last night? Who was the guy?ā
āI donāt know what youāre talking about.ā How the hell did she even know?
āIām sure your little groupies love the coy act, but Iāll pass.ā She cocked an eyebrow. āDaxton, Iām part of your PR team. Itās my job to know everything that goes on during this tour. Sean from security told me someone approached you. I canāt do damage control without all the facts. Who was he, and what did he want? Or, maybe a better question might be what does he know?ā
His face twisted into a grimace with each step. The buses werenāt even in sight. With any luck, theyād make it back by lunchtime. āYou ever feel like youāre suffocating? That thereās air all around, but you just canāt breathe it in? Like your body resists what it needs to survive, and you feel like youāre constantly drowning? Thatās how I feel most of the time. The air, everything around me ā what people see, what they want to believe, judgments they make based on half-truths ā itās all toxic. Better not to inhale. The lesser of two evils, but either way, Iām fucked.ā
She nodded, her hair tickling his shoulder. āI do know what you mean.ā Her voice was soft, sad. There was something beneath that snarky exterior, something he was desperate to uncover, but her demeanor begged him not to press.
They walked for a few silent minutes that seemed to stretch into hours. He clenched and unclenched his fists as waves of pain assaulted his ankle. āShit, that hurts.ā
āI donāt think you should push it. Let me call Merrick.ā
āNo.ā He stopped, teetering on one leg. āPlease. Not yet. Can we just sit down for a minute?ā
āOf course.ā She eased him to the ground and sank onto the pavement. āIs there anything I canā?ā
āThe guy from last night said he knew my mother.ā Daxton held his head, expelling a deep breath. āShe disappeared after my brother died last year, without a trace. Without a warning. One day, she was there; the next, gone. With her clothes, car, jewelry. Everythingā¦gone. My dad made a half-hearted attempt to find her, but I was too angry to try. Iād just lost my best friend, and my mother picked that time to bail. We should have been there for each other, but she didnāt care enough to even say goodbye.ā
āIām so sorry.ā Sara grasped his hand. Her skin was so soft against his calloused fingers. It was an occupational hazard for a guitarist.
āI donāt want to have anything to do with her. She abandoned her family. Things between her and my dad were never great, but what the hell did I ever do to her?ā
āSo you had security get rid of him.ā
āPeople always have an angle, Sara.ā He raised his eyes to see the empathy reflected in her gaze. āI canāt trust anyone because everyone has an agenda. They want to know what I can do for them, how much Iāll pay to keep something from happening, what they can hold over my head in exchange for things they want. Even if this guy is telling the truth, Iām not willing to listen because nothing comes without a high price tag. Toxic. But the problem is, even though my body tries to protect me by resisting the urge to inhale the poison around me, I want to live, to be whole again, free from all this useless anger and resentment. I need to breathe.ā He raked a hand through his hair. āI just canāt remember how.ā
KRISTEN LUCIANI
Kristen Luciani is a self-proclaimed momtrepreneur with a penchant for Christian Louboutins, Silicon Valley, plunging necklines and grapefruit martinis. As a deep-rooted romantic who prefers juicy drama to fill the lives of anyone other than her, she tried her hand at creating a world of enchantment, sensuality, and intrigue, finally uncovering her true passion. No pun intendedā¦
Other Works by Kristen Luciani
The Venture Series
#1 Unlikely Venture
#1 Unlikely Venture
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REBECCA MANUEL
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REBECCA MANUEL
Rebecca Manuel, a.k.a. Becca the Bibliophile, is a lover of books, Fireball, Diet Dr. Pepper and Texas Trash Pie from Royers Roundtop CafƩ. With a deep-rooted passion for the creative, she started the first independent short film company within the literary industry, charged with bringing book characters and plots to life via the Internet. She lives in Houston with her techie geek husband, two fabulous kids, and their menagerie of furry friends.
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