Excerpt!
My heart jumped, my throat caught on a swallow and I stared at the most beautiful girl I’d ever laid eyes on. Not girl. Woman. The stunning brunette at the top of the stairs made me want to forget her brother’s threat, take the steps two at time, and pull her into my arms.
“Hey.” I couldn’t even tell her she looked incredible. Or that I’d missed the fuck out of her.
She held on to the railing at the top step, but she didn’t come down. “Hi, Ben.”
Fuck. Her voice was softer than the flutter of my drum brushes on my snare, and the way she said my name, it made every minute of the last year fall away.
It took me thirty seconds to remember to say something. “You okay?”
“She’s fucking fine,” Marcus growled.
I didn’t take my eyes of her, but she glanced at Marcus and an expression I knew too well clouded her pretty features. “I’m good,” she said quietly, the crease in her forehead one hundred percent concern.
I would’ve been happier to see her get pissed as hell at him for once, but she never did. It wasn’t in her nature. She was everything sweet in my life. And in Marcus’s too, I reminded myself.
“You going to class tomorrow?” She still studied karate, but now she also taught it.
She bit her lip and glanced at Marcus. “Probably.”
Marcus snorted.
She cleared her throat. “How’s the tour?”
“Good.” Sold-out shows, a grueling schedule and fucking groupies that made my skin crawl. I hadn’t touched a single one of them since Miami last year. Playing had become work, and I missed the fuck out of the girl who’d smiled at me since she was fifteen years old.
Elyssia nodded. “That’s good. I’m glad.” Looking uncomfortable as hell, she pointed to the bedroom. “Well, I’m going to….” She trailed off.
“Go.” I tipped my chin. “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”
“The fuck you will,” Marcus warned.
Being the drummer for the hottest new rock band should’ve been a dream come true. Sold out shows, women, more money than I deserved…
But I didn’t want any of it.
The fame sucked, the money was a burden and I’d given away my only chance at ever having her—my best friend’s sister.
I wasn’t supposed to touch her. My best friend made me swear I wouldn’t. Then he was deployed, and he told me to look out for her. Except being around her while still keeping my distance was slowly killing me. Touring with the band should’ve been the perfect escape… Until I fucked up.
I fucked up so bad, she was half-conscious in my arms, fighting for her life.
But I didn’t want any of it.
The fame sucked, the money was a burden and I’d given away my only chance at ever having her—my best friend’s sister.
I wasn’t supposed to touch her. My best friend made me swear I wouldn’t. Then he was deployed, and he told me to look out for her. Except being around her while still keeping my distance was slowly killing me. Touring with the band should’ve been the perfect escape… Until I fucked up.
I fucked up so bad, she was half-conscious in my arms, fighting for her life.
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Author bio:
Sybil Bartel grew up in Northern California with her head in a book and her feet in the sand. She dreamt of becoming a painter but the heady scent of libraries with their shelves full of books drew her into the world of storytelling. She loves the New Adult genre, but any story about a love so desperately wrong and impossibly beautiful makes her swoon.
Sybil now resides in Southern Florida and while she doesn’t get to read as much as she likes, she still buries her toes in the sand. If she isn’t writing or fighting to contain the banana plantation in her backyard, you can find her spending time with her handsomely tattooed husband, her brilliantly practical son and a mischievous miniature boxer…
But Seriously?
Here are ten things you probably really want to know about Sybil.
She grew up a faculty brat. She can swear like a sailor. She loves men in uniform. She hates being told what to do. She can do your taxes (but don’t ask). The Bird Market in Hong Kong freaks her out. Her favorite word is desperate…or dirty, or both—she can’t decide. She has a thing for muscle cars. But never reply on her for driving directions, ever. And she has a new book boyfriend every week—don’t tell her husband.
To find out more about Sybil Bartel, be sure to follow her on Twitter (she loves to hear about your favorite book boyfriend!), visit her website, like her on Facebook or join her Facebook group Book Boyfriend Heroes for exclusive excerpts and giveaways.
Sybil Bartel grew up in Northern California with her head in a book and her feet in the sand. She dreamt of becoming a painter but the heady scent of libraries with their shelves full of books drew her into the world of storytelling. She loves the New Adult genre, but any story about a love so desperately wrong and impossibly beautiful makes her swoon.
Sybil now resides in Southern Florida and while she doesn’t get to read as much as she likes, she still buries her toes in the sand. If she isn’t writing or fighting to contain the banana plantation in her backyard, you can find her spending time with her handsomely tattooed husband, her brilliantly practical son and a mischievous miniature boxer…
But Seriously?
Here are ten things you probably really want to know about Sybil.
She grew up a faculty brat. She can swear like a sailor. She loves men in uniform. She hates being told what to do. She can do your taxes (but don’t ask). The Bird Market in Hong Kong freaks her out. Her favorite word is desperate…or dirty, or both—she can’t decide. She has a thing for muscle cars. But never reply on her for driving directions, ever. And she has a new book boyfriend every week—don’t tell her husband.
To find out more about Sybil Bartel, be sure to follow her on Twitter (she loves to hear about your favorite book boyfriend!), visit her website, like her on Facebook or join her Facebook group Book Boyfriend Heroes for exclusive excerpts and giveaways.
Giveaway!
sounds great..congrats
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