Rock My World
Contemporary romance
Sensual heat level
22,000 words
ISBN: 9781310826160
Available from
Barnes and Noble (soon)
Read the first
chapters on Wattpad
At 37,
Cynthia Winterspoon is a self-made millionaire, more popular than Martha
Stewart. Women love her decorating and recipe ideas for every season, geared
toward shabby chic, affordable for the middle class. Cynthia lives by her
motto: Make your life enjoyable. Except that her husband just left her for a
woman barely out of high school, and is suing her for everything she has. The
scandal’s rocked her world, but nothing compared to the shakeup after she meets
rock star Rex Reynolds.
Rex
Reynolds, rock god and general mess, has everything he could possibly need—except
love. The real kind, that inspires the greatest love songs. An appearance on a
late night talk show seems just another gig until he meets Cyn, the sweetest,
kindest woman whose thoughtfulness touches his soul. When a motorcycle accident
robs him of his memory, one image blazes bright in his mind: Cyn. He’s
convinced she’s his fiancee. Now all that stands between him and true happiness
is her hesitancy.
Can his amnesia
help them both remember what’s most important?
Casting Call (coming soon)
Reviews (coming soon)
Excerpt
If only
he’d take off those damn sunglasses, she’d have a better idea of what he was
thinking. Maybe.
“They were
right.” He jutted out his chin.
“Who?” Had
he heard something? Known all along about her husband? Maybe he was the real
tabloid spy. She released an inward groan.
“Whoever
said you were a good listener. I’ve never bared my thoughts to anyone else.”
She
practically melted with relief. “You are, too. I feel better having let it all
out.” To a complete stranger. Not her smartest move.
“So do I.
I actually feel as if a weight’s been lifted from me.” He tore off the Ray Bans
and leaned toward her. “Don’t let any man treat you less than a princess.”
She ducked
her head. Not even as a girl had she dreamed of being royalty. Frilly dresses?
Too hard to climb trees wearing them. Nor were palaces her style, debutante
balls or any of the other nonsense. None of it seemed much fun.
“I’m not
very good with pedestals. Unless I’m giving it a makeover.” But she could
imagine him a prince, easily. Light blue flecked his dark blue eyes, the effect
mesmerizing. “You have lovely eyes.”
A slow
smile crept over his face. “Too much mascara and liner, I’m told.”
“A
little.” Way more than her. “But I imagine you need the look to maintain your
image. And you wear it well.”
Brows
furrowed, he leaned even closer. “Who are you?”
Warmth
flushed her face. “Should have introduced myself earlier, sorry.” After
recovering from the near-faint, perhaps? Or should she have waited until after
insulting him? “Cynthia Winterspoon.” She extended her hand.
“A princess
name if I ever heard one.” He bent his head to touch his lips to her fingers,
cradled gently in his hand.
Excitement
tiptoed across her skin. She forgot to argue against the royal title.
“Well,
Cyn.” He made it sound so sexy and slightly devilish. “You have lovely eyes,
too.” His gaze swept down to her lips, her cleavage. “Lovely… everything. But
your eyes, they’re captivating. The term ‘doelike’ comes to mind. I haven’t
seen any woman pull off such an innocent-sexy combo since Marilyn Monroe. I bet
you’re a real man eater, aren’t you?”
No, but
she’d be willing to learn. She almost forgot to breathe. And something even
more important. “What’s your name?”
Surprise
flickered across his face. “Rex Reynolds.”
“And
you’re in a band? What do you do, play guitar?” Up close, he lost some of the
bad boy mystique. His scruffy look had been carefully cultivated—too much hair
product gave the stringy effect. His clothes were rumpled, but clean. The scent
of coconut and lime teased her senses. The stubble on his chin couldn’t be more
than a day old.
“Not a
fan, eh?” He shot a dubious glance at her boots. “Let me guess. Country music?”
She tilted
her chin. “Classical.”
“Wagner,
Rachmaninoff, Beethoven? That sort?” He knit his brow. “Nothing contemporary?”
She
repressed the urge to apologize. “My parents forbade it.”
Another
full body scan, ripe with appreciation, left her feeling more naked than she
could remember.
He took
her hands in his. “You’re all grown up now, Cyn. Take a walk on the wild side.”
Spoken like a flirty tease, and a challenge that invited her somewhere soft and
warm, where her wildest, most decadent dreams could come true.
Her heart
did a fluttery flip. When?
