Every Single Part
of You
Cinder, Book 1
Unchained Chaos Tour
Written by London
Saint James
Narrated by La
Petite Mort and Ruby Rivers
Listening time: 7
hrs and 56 mins
Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance, M/F/M Ménage,
Rockers
Please Note: This book contains mature
themes, includes explicit language and sexual
scenes.
Sara: As the daughter of Senator and presidential hopeful Jentsen Holbrook, I spent a good deal of my life under public scrutiny. What I wore. Where I went. Who I dated. It was just the way of things. I’d become what was expected of me, until I ran from my obligations and woke up one morning in Cross de Raven’s and Eryk Hale’s world, two hot guitarists from the mega-famous metal band, Cinder. For the first time, freedom to be myself was within my reach. And along with that? Inevitable scandal.
Eryk: True beauty walked into my life, more beauty than I ever deserved. I partied hard. Rocked harder. I wasn’t good enough to touch Sara’s petal-soft skin, hold on tight, or love her, but regardless of my bad boy ways, no one was going to stop me from trying.
Cross: Sometimes, no matter how hard we fight for what we want, love won't save the day, and truth doesn't always set you free. Then again… Maybe, just maybe, when you find the one you’ve been searching for, love can find a way.
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Excerpt:
Briar
and I stood in the VIP section with our after party passes—the wide logoed
bracelets on our wrists—completely surrounded by warm bodies. Our bellies were
being pressed into the barrier separating us from the security personnel
outlining the front of the stage. Cobalt blue laser lights danced and smoke
rolled like fog, making the details of the stage hard to see, even from our
close vantage point.
Leaning
into me, Briar placed her forehead to mine and smiled wide. “Isn’t this fucking
awesome?”
“It
is,” I agreed.
“You
two going to slip each other the tongue?” some guy hollered from behind us.
Briar
turned, giving him her signature hip cock—are
you serious?—lift of brow. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Hell
yes.”
She
flipped him a not so elegant bird. “Kiss this, asshat.”
“Bri,”
I admonished, ready to throw myself in front of her if the guy went ballistic,
but he laughed and turned his attention to the stage.
In
front of us, shadows moved. The whine of a discordant guitar, followed by a
“Ba-bump. Ba-bump,” reverberated from the domed ceiling.
“Oh
my God!” Briar screeched in my ear as she latched on to my blouse, practically
jumping in place, and almost removing the short, fluttery sleeve in the
process. “This is it, babe.”
An
unbelievably deep voice bellowed out a war cry that mixed into the sound of
rumbling thunder and vibrated the floor beneath me.
Multiple
LED screens lit up the entire backstage with a picture show of a churning fire,
followed by devastating nuclear explosions. Along the side of the stage, real
flames and sparks
shot into the air
as a shirtless man, half-surrounded by a massive set of drums, lowered from
above on a lit platform—muscled arms working, leg tapping.
The
crowd went wild.
“That’s
Sayer Adler,” Bri yelled near my ear. “Isn’t he gorgeous?”
I
looked at the man pounding out a wicked beat, and decided—with his mussed, dark
hair with platinum blond tips, sporting long sideburns highlighting a strong
jaw, and a sculpted upper body covered in colorful tattoos—he was striking.
A
huge flash of light and perfectly timed kaboom
went off, drawing my gaze. As the smoke cleared, another member of the band
came into view. “That’s Kris Kline. The bassist,” my bestie informed. Then two
more men, with fingers flying over their respective guitars appeared together,
leaning back to back within their own light show. “The hottie with the mirrored
sunglasses and black tour beanie on his head is Cross de Raven. He’s lead
guitar. And the other, Mr. I’d-do-him-in-a-heartbeat, is Eryk Hale, rhythm
guitarist.”
The
two of them had this inexplicable sensuality about them in the way they swayed
together, which pretty much kept my attention trained on them until the last
guy rose up from an opening in the floor, reminiscent of a leather-clad
gladiator stopping center stage, causing the two guitarists to break apart—one
going left, the other right.
Beside
me, Briar wolf-whistled.
“Shit,
yeah! I love you, Fade,” she screamed at the top of her lungs. Then my friend,
never one to mince words, flashed sparkling eyes at me. “I so want to have that man’s baby!”
With
a saucy wink, she returned her attention back to the action, threw her arm in
the air, her fingers making devil horns, and started rocking her head, long
hair swishing about her face.
The
vocalist curled his ring-covered fingers around a freestanding microphone that
looked like a burnt, twisted twig of a tree sprouting up in front of him, which
he uprooted. I tried to soak in the experience as he did this combination of
singing and screaming about annihilation. The lights, the sound, the
penetrating vibrations, the feel of bodies in motion, and the way the members
of Cinder worked every square inch of the stage was mesmerizing. I didn’t know
much if anything about metal music, but it was clear they were talented.
Cross
ground out an amazing sound on his guitar, palm sliding across the neck,
fingers on the frets—his instrument dropping down between his muscular thighs
as he lunged. Pure,
euphoric pleasure
emanated from his handsome face, and a vivid image of him having hot, sweaty,
sheet-clawing sex came to mind.
What in the heck is wrong with me?
I
pushed the naughty thoughts aside and tore my gaze away from the guitar god,
focusing on Eryk, only to find him making love to his guitar. Gah! I needed to get my mind out of the
gutter.
Focus on something else.
I
watched the drummer again. Slipped my attention to Fade. Moved my gaze over to
the bassist. I also returned to watching Cross and Eryk. If they kept up their
current high-powered pace of stomping, jumping, and leg lunges throughout the
duration of the concert, they’d never need to darken a gym, because they were
doing some killer cardio.
When
the song ended, Fade bellowed, “How are you tonight, Tacoma?” in a gravelly
voice.
The
crowd went berserk.
I had the pleasure of being able to do an 'Author Chat' with the two people who made this audiobook happen and brought all my colorful characters to life; La Petite Mort & Ruby Rivers.
Direct
Link to the author chat: https://soundcloud.com/londonsj/lsj-author-chat-with-la-petite-mort-ruby-rivers
Tell
us about London
I
love: Coca-Cola, anything chocolate, reading, writing, singing, dancing,
movies, listening to thunder storms, watching it rain, the mountains, the
ocean, orchids, great smiles, and guys with brooding eyes and great scowls. Oh.
I should probably mention I write erotic romance (mostly) although I have one
or two sweet romances bopping around out there in the great big world of
published books.
If you want to know a little bit more about me, you can find me
on social
media, you know, Facebook, Twitter and such.
Here’s a few of my stalking links:
Twitter: http://twitter.com/LSJRomance
Slip Between the
Pages with London Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/6P2on
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