A Rhythm of Love Series, Book 2
Release Date: 08.21.19
I gave the rumor mill fodder for a lifetime the day I walked away from a lucrative music career without explanation.
People can talk all they like; my record stores are my lifeblood now, and I’m devoted solely to keeping them afloat in the digital age. There’s just one little thing distracting me: an earth-dwelling sunbeam named Owen Harper. I don’t know what I was thinking when I hired him. In fact, maybe I wasn’t thinking at all.
Quirky and excitable, he’s a walking, talking danger to fragile objects. His energy alone could power a small country. That’s never been my style. Hell, I was probably cutting my first album while he was cutting teeth. He wants a music career, and I’m done with all that. We couldn’t be on more opposite paths.
He’s other things, too, though. Things that keep me up late at night. Things that make me forget I’m supposed to be simplifying.
And damn does he love to push my buttons.
Now I’m struggling to resist his pull, drowning in the memory of his skin under my hands, his mouth on mine. His laugh.
When a long shadow from my past comes calling with an offer I’d be stupid to refuse, there’s more on the line than the survival of the shops I’ve dedicated the last fifteen years of my life to.
Because those fragile objects I mentioned earlier? One of them might well be my heart.
Resonance is the second book in the Rhythm of Love series but can be read on its own. It’s a steamy slow burn bisexual age-gap, boss/employee romance with lots of banter and two obstinate heroes who really, really don’t want to want the very thing they both need.
Spewing that tirade at his bewildered expression felt good for all of a handful of seconds, long enough for me to leave the room, head down the hall, and straight out the back exit.
My stomach lurched as I scurried across the parking lot to my car, and I cast one last glance over my shoulder at the neon sign before tossing my case in the back seat and then sinking into the front and resting my forehead on the steering wheel. I blinked rapidly against the gathering sting in my eyes. Brush it off, inner cheerleader suggested cheerfully.
I groaned and the voice went silent. About damn time. I’d liked the Sparrow. Too bad I couldn’t show my face there again anytime soon. Probably ever.
I thumped my head against the wheel a couple of times and waited until the burn in the back of my throat faded before digging out my phone and opening my messages.
Ru: How’d it go
Owen: I tripped running off the stage
Owen: But I didn’t wet my pants because 97% of the water in my body had already come out of my palms and forehead by then
Ru called me at that point, and I answered with what I thought might be a Guinness World Record–worthy sustained “fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.”
Ru chuckled good-naturedly, the jerk.
“I’m not really in the mood for vocal interaction right now,” I told him.
Neve Wilder lives in the southern US, where the summers are hot and the winters are…sometimes cold. She is a mom to three rambunctious weebeasts who have joined forces in a mission to carpet the family home with toys and small items that really suck to step on at six in the morning.
She reads promiscuously across multiple genres, but her favorite stories always contain an element of romance. Incidentally, this is also what she likes to write. Slow-burners with delicious tension? Yes. Whiplash-inducing page-turners, also yes. Down and dirty scorchers? Yes. And every flavor in between.
She believes David Bowie was the sexiest musician to ever live, and she’s always game to nerd out on anything from music to writing.
And finally, she believes that love conquers all. Except the heat index in July. Nothing can conquer that bastard.
Web site: www.nevewilder.com
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