BOOK BLITZ
Title: Rock
Author: JA Huss
Genre: Rock Star Romantic Suspense
Release Date: March 7, 2016
BLURB
He had it all. He lost it all. And all he wants now is a second chance.
RK Saber ran from tragedy five years ago when his car went over the side of a mountain in a prom-night crash. Consumed by guilt, he walked away from Juilliard and morphed into Rock, front man for the global rock-band sensation, Son of a Jack. Five members. Five best friends. Five rising stars burning so bright, they had to know it couldn’t last.
When tragedy strikes again and the band goes from five to two, RK is sentenced to… home. Back to the place where all his nightmares started. Back to the memory of all the things he lost. Back to the reality he refused to face before he left.
The Vetti twins were identical in all ways but two. Melanie was insane and Melissa was not. One twin was killed on prom night five years ago and one twin was not. And now that RK has returned home, the twin left standing has quite a story to tell. Could she really be the girl he thought he’d lost forever? Or is Melanie just up to her same old tricks?
ROCK is a rock-star romantic suspense by the New York Times bestselling master of twist, JA Huss.
GOODREADS LINK: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/29065022-rock
BOOK TRAILER
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PURCHASE LINKS
AU: http://bit.ly/1R2k0iL
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1nrKEUx
iBooks: Coming Soon!
EXCERPTS
Excerpt 1
“RK,” she whispers, and I swear to God—I swear on all the things I’ve lost and all the things God owes me—she sounds so much like Missy, I let myself buy into the illusion.
She has my dick out before I can shake myself back to reality, and who the fuck wants reality when all it is is death?
Fuck reality. This girl is my girl. She is the exact image. The same voice. A precise copy of the only person I will ever love.
I flip the button on her jeans and rip the zipper down, my hands reaching between her legs, my fingertips sliding into the slick pool of wetness. She moans as I push her back down the hallway and into my room, both of us tripping over the rug covering the faux-antique barn wood planks.
She laughs as we fall, her head hitting the floor hard enough to make her wince. I breathe through the thumping of my heart and place my hand under her head to make sure she’s OK.
She takes that opportunity to fist my cock. I tug her jeans down, backing off enough to drag them down to her knees, then flip her knees up to her chin and place my tongue over her pussy.
I kiss it. Thoroughly. Deeply. I lick and suck her clit until she’s fisting my hair and bucking her hips.
“RK,” she moans, gripping my shoulders, urging me to continue. But now all I can think about is how I never fucked Missy. How she got away and I never even fucked her. Why didn’t I fuck her?
I move to Melanie’s stomach, licking and biting my way up her body until I reach her neck and I bury my face into the scent of her hair as my cock buries itself inside her pussy.
She moans loudly this time. “Jesus,” she says.
I rock into her, my hands cupping her face, my hips grinding against hers. Thrusting, harder, deeper, then slow and soft until she’s urging me to go fast again. I rest my body on top of her chest, dip my head down and bite the sensitive skin of her breast as she cups it and pushes her nipple into my mouth.
Her other hand is on my back, her long fingernails digging into my flesh as I pump her harder and harder.
“I hate you,” she says into my ear, her voice way too soft for the harsh words. “I hate you so much, RK. For leaving me. For leaving this town and never coming back. For being so talented and smart, and so willing to throw it all away.”
But she’s still moving with our shared rhythm as she talks.
“I hate you too,” I croak back, thrusting deep inside her until she buckles underneath me, throws her head back, and comes all over my dick. “I hate you for not being…” I have to force the words out through the pain, because I need her to feel them. I need her to hurt with me. “For not being the one I want.”
Her whole body goes still—and then she grips my shoulders, pushes me back, and manages to get her foot up against my chest even though her jeans are still around her knees.
She kicks and I go flying backwards, crashing my head against the tiled floor. She stands up, hiking her jeans back into place, buttons them. Then she stands over me, straddling my hips, and sinks down until she’s sitting on my stomach.
Her face is nothing but sadness as she reaches for me, placing her warm palms against my cheeks. “You are a sick, sick, man, Rowan Kyle Saber. A very sick man.”
“Melanie—” I croak.
“Fuck you.” She slaps my face and stands back up. “Just fuck you. You should know me better.”
I breathe in her contempt and hate as she walks out.
Excerpt 2
I take my shirt off as I walk across the hallway, throwing it down on the floor. Missy is standing with her back to me, testing the temperature of the shower. She peeks over her shoulder and smiles. “I know you probably hear this all this time, but damn, Rowan Kyle. You should never take that shirt off in public again.”
I go for my pants, unbuttoning them, unzipping them. She watches every move. And then I kick off my boots and fling them into the hallway with the shirt. She turns all the way around now and I feel myself getting hard as she presses her palm against my cock, squeezing it through my pants.
“If I knew you were coming back I’d have waited for you.”
God, that hurts.
“I just…” She stops, her sad eyes lingering on mine. “I just didn’t think you would. Come back, I mean.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. And I mean it. I’m so fucking sorry I wasn’t her first.
“It’s OK. We get to skip all that awkward fumbling, right?” She swallows hard and I know she’s sorry too. She was the only girl I dreamed about. The only girl I ever wanted. Even after all my rock-star nights, Melissa Vetti is still the only girl I want.
I place both my hands on her cheeks and lean down to kiss her mouth. Her lips part, her tongue seeking out mine. It’s soft, and slow, and short. Way, way too short.
She pulls away, taking her hand off my cock, and turns, stepping into the shower. I let my pants fall to the floor and toss them in the hallway. The shower has a clear glass surround and I watch her as she stands under the water, her fingers massaging it into her hair.
I step in with her and place my hands on her shoulders so I can turn her towards me. “Melissa—”
“Shh,” she says. “I don’t want to talk about it right now. I just want to enjoy this.” She picks up the soap and starts to lather me up, massaging the bubbles along my arms. Over my chest. Up and down my back.
I grab the bottle of shampoo and squeeze some into my palm, then rub my hands together and begin working it through her long, dark, hair as I study her face. The makeup is smearing as I watch. It makes her look like she’s crying.
“I feel like this is a dream,” she says, her soapy hands moving to my front. “I feel like I’ve been granted some wish but it’s all fake and you’re just going to disappear again. Leave me here alone. Lonely. You want to know why I stay home, RK?”
No. No, I really don’t.
“Because I’m lonely. Because you were my life. And I know I was having doubts back when we were about to graduate, but they were small doubts. Growing-up doubts. Not-knowing-what-I-wanted doubts. But I was never going to break up with you, RK. Never. And I was certainly never going to walk away from us.”
Fuck. I guess I haven’t looked at it from her point of view very much. “I walked away.”
“You walked away.” Her frown is so deep it hurts my heart.
“I’m sorry. I don’t even know why—”
“Shh,” she says again. “Later.”
Her hand slides up and down my cock as she looks me in the eyes. It’s a very intimate moment. Probably the most intimate moment I’ve had in years.
“Rinse,” I say.
Missy turns away, and I swear, I know what she’s feeling. Every time she does that I think she will never turn back to me again. I hate when she turns away. I watch as she rinses the shampoo out of her hair. The water streams down her face like that waterfall where we had our first kiss.
She’s not Melanie. How could I ever think she was Melanie?
“Can I make you dinner tonight? Before the show?” she asks when she turns back. The relief that she’s still here is real, as irrational as it is.
“Dinner?” I say, trying to wrap my head around the change of subject. I was about to attack her, lift her up, press her back against the wall, and fuck the shit out of her and now she’s talking about dinner.
“Yeah. Do you still like lemon pasta? Like your mom used to make?”
“Jesus,” I say. “The angel hair with the white wine sauce? I haven’t thought about that in years.”
“Yeah. Remember when I made that for you on your seventeenth birthday?” She laughs. It was a fun night. A really fun night. The kind of fun you only have with the girl of your dreams before you turn to drugs and need alcohol and sex to force the fun. “I fucked it all up,” she says through a giggle.
I grin as I picture her attempt to cook me something. “I’m not sure how anyone can fuck that recipe up, but yeah. You did.” She bites her lip and I almost die. “It was perfect though. Because you made it. And you made it special for me.”
“You ate every bite.”
“There was no chance in hell I wouldn’t, Missy. Not after you went to all that trouble. So sure. I’m not gonna complain about a trip down memory lane with you tonight.”
“Good,” Missy sighs. “Good.” And then she grabs the conditioner and the possibility of sex fades away.
I’m actually glad it fades. I’m glad she changed the subject. Turned us in a different direction. I know I hate-fucked her when I first got back into town, and I’m sorry about that. I’d like to take it back and get a do-over. I’d rather wait. Like we did when we were kids. I’d rather wait until we know for sure this is real, and special, and maybe even permanent.
I’d like to take my time with Melissa Vetti.
Excerpt 3
“We’re not done, Melissa Vetti.”
“Not even close,” she says, winking at me as she pulls the door open to a waiting Gretchen.
“Oh, my God, you guys are disgusting. Who has sex in a break room?”
Missy giggles, then grabs my arm as if to cling to me. Her grin is wild and wide, her eyes are dancing as they look up at me, and when she leans into me, resting her head on my shoulder for a brief moment, just as I open the back passenger door to Gretchen’s stupid hybrid car, I sigh.
It’s long and deep. But everything about it is good.
“Get in,” I tell Missy. She does, searching for her seatbelt as I close the door and walk over to the other side.
“You’re not sitting in back, RK,” Gretchen says.
“The fuck I’m not,” I mumble, getting in next to Missy. Her hands are all over me as Gretchen huffs about not being a chauffeur and some other bullshit that I can’t be bothered to listen to.
I put my arm around Miss and she leans into my chest. One hand tucked behind my back, one lifting my shirt up, a fraction at a time. And even though I just came inside her five minutes ago, I’m ready for more.
Gretchen talks the entire ride but I don’t understand a word she says. Melissa’s mouth is on mine, then biting my shoulder, then she’s scooting back and lowering her face to my stomach, still lifting my shirt up with that one hand.
When Gretchen stops in my driveway, Missy and I give off half-hearted waves as I push her up against the front door and stare down into her blue eyes. “You know what?” I slur the words just a little.
“What?” She laughs back.
I have so many thoughts in my head at the moment. About her, her music, the bar, this town. What it felt like to come home after five years. How alone I felt. What it felt like to go to her show tonight. To be included. Part of something again.
“I missed you,” I say.
“I missed you too.”
“No,” I say. “I mean I missed you.” I place my hands on each of her cheeks and bump my forehead against hers. “I missed how you started that band. I missed how you worked out those songs. I missed all the mistakes, and all the triumphs. I missed the stressing out over money. I missed the conversation you had to have with Teej to get a spot. I missed picking out the guitar you play, the strap, the picks. I missed you making a decision about what you’d wear on stage. I missed you squealing to whoever is your best friend these days about your first show. I missed the applause, I missed TJ’s proud face afterward, I missed the first blown amp, the first time someone said, Hey, are you the chick who plays at Float’s? I missed everything, Melissa Vetti, rock star. And I’m so fucking sorry. Because life would’ve been so much better if we’d done it together.”
She pouts her lips and nods her head. I can see a little gleam of light in her eyes as she tries not to cry. “I missed your life too.”
“Yeah,” I whisper. “It just would’ve been so much better if we’d done it together.”
She looks up at me and smiles. “We’re together now, RK. And that’s all that matters.”
AUTHOR BIO
JA Huss is the USA Today bestselling author of more than twenty romances. She likes stories about family, loyalty, and extraordinary characters who struggle with basic human emotions while dealing with bigger than life problems. JA loves writing heroes who make you swoon, heroines who make you jealous, and the perfect Happily Ever After ending.
AUTHOR LINKS
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorJAHuss
Twitter: https://twitter.com/jahuss
Blog: http://www.newadultaddiction.com/
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1QjNZyh
GIVEAWAY
There is a giveaway for a $100 gift card, signed copy of ROCK, Coach Wristlet, Perfectly Posh Pack, Brighton Notepad with Pen, Prada Sunglasses, and ROCK Super Swag pack. Ends 3-21-16
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