*~*Captivating Bridge by Michelle Mankin Cover Reveal – Excerpt & Giveaway*~*
Expected Release Date: June 19, 2014
Warren “War” Jinkins is that guy.
The bad one.
Tempest’s ex front man, an arrogant rock god.
The only thing larger than his ego is his capacity for self-destruction.
His bad attitude has cost him. His woman. His best friend. His band.
Shaina Bentley is that girl.
The good one.
Hollywood’s pink candy-coated sweetheart.
The star of Pinky Swear, television’s top rated teen show.
She’s been practically perfect since that horrible day. But she’s starting to crack under the strain of being everything to everyone.
He’s a one man island. She’s a fragile captive soul.
Is love a current too dangerous to cross or will it be the bridge that brings them together?
*Author note: Each book in the Tempest series features a different band member and can stand alone.*
Two years ago everything changed for the remaining members of the Seattle rock band Tempest.
Two years is a long time.
Too long to keep on remembering.
Not nearly long enough to forget.
In trouble with nowhere else to go songstress Lace Lowell seeks refuge with the band during their stop in New York City. It’s a risky move for her because they are both there, two impossibly good looking men whose lives are inseparably entwined with hers. One who bruised her heart and one who smashed it into pieces.
Warren “War” Jinkins, the mercurial lead singer of Tempest, has always had a thing for Lace. But then again so does his best friend and band mate.
Bryan “Bullet” Jackson, the sinfully handsome tat-sleeved lead guitarist, has a bad boy reputation befitting his nickname. For the past two years Bullet’s had a rule with the groupies: one time, never twice, leave ‘em satisfied, but always leave ‘em.
Two guys, one woman, and a host of dark secrets all together within the tight confines of a tour bus as the group travels cross country.
Can the past be forgotten and buried?
Will friendships prevail?
Or will the three of them succumb to seductive impulses too addictive to resist?
** Irresistible Refrain is a gritty rock and roll tale intended for mature readers seventeen and up. Contains sexual situations, strong language, and drug use. **
To the talented vocalist Justin Jones, love is merely a game that he plays by his own rules.But to Bridget Dubois, love and heartache are one and the same.
Broken too many times before, the delicate beauty keeps her emotions carefully concealed. Bridget has her own set of rigid rules when it comes to men. She prefers to avoid them altogether, especially dangerously seductive auburn haired emerald eyed players like Justin.
But the new lead singer of the rising rock band Tempest doesn’t like to be ignored. Justin is used to getting what he wants, and now he’s set his sights on Bridget.
Suddenly, it’s no longer a game.
What do you do when the one you can’t have turns out to be the one you can’t live without?
As the pressure builds, will it temper them or will it shatter them both like fragile crystal?
*Each book in the Tempest series features a different band member. They can stand alone, of course, but why not enjoy each one?*
Chapter 1
War
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I shouted at the powdery pink confection yanking her down from her precarious perch before she could plunge into the icy current below.
Almost-A-Statistic was a tiny piece of ass. I’d lifted amplifiers heavier than her. But after chugging a fifth of whiskey my balance wasn’t all that great. So instead of setting her down safely on the dry side of the bridge railing as I’d planned, we both ended up in a sprawled heap on the pavement.
Her on top.
Me on the bottom. My customary spot in life.
At least she had me and the padding of her ski jacket to cushion her fall.
I wasn’t so lucky. I had nothing to soften the impact. But then again I had a lot of practice being smacked down.
My whole damn life.
Grew up with nothing and no one really. A one man island. Made the mistake of letting a select few on there with me that I thought I could trust. What did that get me?
Cut down at the knees.
Stabbed in the fuckin’ back.
Best friend screwing the woman I’d loved since high school. Secrets kept from me by my so-called bandmates. So I left ‘em. Left everything that meant anything to me. Brought so low. Hurt so much. I thought my life couldn’t get any worse. Then that phone call came to let me know that well yeah it could.
The mother who had barely even acknowledged my existence had been snatched away from me, too.
Cold air rushed through the new rips in my jeans and my backside began to throb where the hard ass pavement had done a fuckin’ number on me. I ignored the hint of soft curves pressing against me, focusing my resentment on the chick I’d just rescued instead. I blasted her with all my pent up shit, the self-hatred, the bitterness, and the hopeless rage as if she were somehow responsible for it. Those emotions had brought me here, ready to end it all. And I would have already, if it hadn’t been for her ill-timed, inconsiderate interruption.
Recoiling from my artic glare, Pink pushed off me, grimacing as her ass hit the ground.
I grinned, my lips curling at her obvious discomfort.
Welcome to my world, bitch.
“I just saved your life, you…you…ass…you ingrate.” Eyes a startling peridot green flashed at me as she sputtered. “I saw you put your foot up on the railing. You were about to jump. Besides that you’re obviously drunk…inebriated. Everyone knows you shouldn’t drink when you’re depressed.” She put mittened hands to her hips, her brow arching slightly as if challenging me to disagree. “It only makes things worse.”
I laughed, not because she was funny, but ‘cause she was right.
I was ready to punch my ticket off this whole fucking me up the ass world.
Eyes narrowing, I took some time to reconsider my wanna be savior. Wisps of hair an artificial shade of blonde peeked out from under a slightly askew bubble gum colored cap and framed a pale too-cute-to-be-beautiful face. Pepto-Bismol tip to toe, from her lipstick to her custom Nike sneakers.
I couldn’t get an exact gauge on her age with her figure mostly hidden by that heavy coat, but she looked young. Way young, maybe enough to get you arrested if you went there kind of young.
I’d just about made up my mind that she wasn’t worth the trouble when my gaze came back up to her face. There was something in her eyes, swirling near the surface of their light green depths. Something that once upon a time I might’ve been interested in figuring out…but not anymore.
I was done with chicks.
Done with the drama.
Just plain fuckin’ done.
“You don’t know jack.” I drew myself up, clumsy and stumbling a bit as I got to my feet.
“I know a lot. More than you think.” Lip between her teeth, her head moved tracking my movement. “I knew you’d stop me from doing what you were getting ready to do yourself,” she concluded, blinking up at me all doe eyed as I stared down at her.
“Holy fuck!” I exclaimed as that sank in. “What do you think this is, Pink? The bridge scene from It’s a Wonderful Life? Well breaking news, Sunshine. This ain’t fuckin’ Christmas. You ain’t no guardian angel. And I sure as fuck ain’t no do-gooding George Bailey.” I gesticulated toward the rail. “Go ahead. Climb back up. I won’t stop you this time.”
“So you admit it.” Her voice held a sharp edge to it and projected loud enough to be heard over the roar of the rain swollen river raging beneath our feet. “You were trying to save me. That’s something good. Something worth preserving,” she muttered the last couple of words. She was wrong, but I heard her.
She rose, a lot more gracefully than I had, dusted off her (I didn’t fail to notice –I might be down but I wasn’t dead- not yet at least) nicely shaped fuchsia outlined ass. She tilted her head back, curiosity or something else brightening her gaze.
I was six one. Most chicks had to crane their necks to look up at me. I had a good foot on her, yet she didn’t seem to be the least bit intimidated nor had she acted that way since the beginning of our bizarre little encounter. She also didn’t seem to have any fuckin’ idea who I was.
Interesting, I thought, grateful for the lack of recognition on her part. I sure as shit didn’t want to answer a bunch of questions about the crap going on in my life right now. Still, she must have been living a pretty isolated existence, held hostage at the top of a tall tower without Wi-Fi connectivity or something, not to have seen the pictures of me that had been blasted all over kingdom come since my mother’s murder.
My head canted to the side, questions of my own about this woman buzzing in my brain. For the first time in recent memory my mind was on something else besides myself.
I took a step closer, partly to see if I could rattle her, partly ‘cause I decided what the hell, why not see if that skin of hers was as soft as it looked? I skimmed a ringed thumb across the round of her cheek.
Yeah, it was soft, smooth as fuckin’ satin.
I licked my lips, but she didn’t move. Her expression blank as though hypnotized she just continued to blink and stare at me with those startling light green eyes of hers.
Deciding to push it further, I traced the line of her delicate jaw.
Still no protest.
Not one to pass up on an opportunity no matter what the setting, I framed her face in my hands and tilted her head back. Her glossed lips parted of their own accord. Warm minty breath spilled across my chilled hands.
Ok, that hadn’t work out the way I wanted. I was the one getting fuckin’ rattled. She was close enough now that her jacket brushed against my belt buckle. My dick got harder than the concrete that had so recently roughed me up. All I could think about now was slipping my tongue inside her delectable mouth.
Now I might not be able to handle my liquor quite as well as my former best friend/guitarist, but I was no novice when it came to drinking. I knew that my current equilibrium problems had nothing to do with booze, but I wasn’t about to admit that to this toys in the attic chick.
Cursing under my breath, I immediately dropped my hands and took a step back, a big step back. I did not need this kind of shit. “Get out of here.” I lifted my chin. “I’m tired of playing your stupid game. This is my bridge.” My tone was terse. “Go find your own.”
“I’m not leaving.” Her voice was a thready whisper, but her pink frosted lips settled into a determined line. She closed the space between us, leaning in, her mittened hands curled into fists. “You think no one cares if you jump off that bridge, but you’re wrong.”
My brow rose in response to her impassioned tone. “Hate to burst your bubble, Sweetness, but you’re the one who’s wrong.” I threw back with a liberal splash of sarcasm, my own arms stiff as drink stirrers at my sides. “Surprise? Maybe. Tears? Highly doubtful.” I pretended to ignore the plea in her eyes. No way that shimmer in them was for fuckin’ real. But as I did, I finally got a fix on that emotion in her eyes that had eluded me earlier.
Something I could recognize. Too fuckin’ raw not to be real. Before I had time to wonder what the hell had ripped a hole inside of her that wide, her phone chirped with an incoming message.
She didn’t even glance down. I don’t even think she heard it. She kept staring at me as if she were trying to persuade me to believe her by eye contact alone. It didn’t work, of course, but it was totally unnerving.
“Your phone just went off,” I prompted, more than a little freaked by the intensity of her gaze. I didn’t mind being up on stage in front of thousands of screaming fans. In fact I craved that. Distant admiration was a fuckin’ rush, but not this. Not this one on one soul searching, emotional connection shit.
“Huh?” she asked looking glazed.
“Your phone, Pink. I think someone’s trying to get a hold of you.”
“Oh.” She blinked a couple of times, then reached into her pocket and pulled out, I shit you not, a pink rhinestone encrusted cell. She glanced briefly at the display. “Damn.” She turned, looking over her shoulder at the forested area behind her as if she expected to see Sasquatch come crashing through the thick underbrush any minute. “I gotta go.”
“Go on then. Don’t let me keep you from anything. Do me a fuckin’ favor and get lost.”
I don’t know why I was surprised when she did the opposite taking a step closer. Nothing this bitch did made any fuckin’ sense. She must be bars in the window, over the rainbow crazy. Out here in the middle of nowhere, alone, at the crack of dawn acting out some old black and white movie. Only druggies, the homeless, and pick pockets hung out in Montliff Park at this hour. She looked too sweet and smelled too nice to be any of those.
So then what the hell was she?
5 Amazon e-copies of Enticing Interlude. Michelle will select from new entries to her Black Cat Records fans signup list. (PLEASE include the words ‘Captivating Reveal’ in the untitled line.) Sign Up Here!
To enter a drawing for one of THREE advanced copies of Captivating Bridge, email the author at [email protected] showing her your Amazon reviews for both Irresistible Refrain and Enticing Interlude.
Michelle Mankin is a young/new adult romance writer as well as a self-proclaimed giant…inside her own mind. For many years, she toiled in the insurance industry as an underwriter. Somehow, the boredom didn’t kill her, and the hours of looking at facts and figures provided ample time for her mind to wander. Love Evolution, Love Revolution, and the latest novel, Love Resolution are rock ‘n roll romances. The first is based on Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night, the second on Much Ado About Nothing, and the third on The Tempest. The first three books in the Black Cat Records series combine the plot underpinnings of the famous playwright with the drama, excitement, and the indisputable sexiness of the rock ‘n roll industry. When she is not putting her daydreams down on paper, you can find Michelle traveling the world with her family. Sometimes for real and sometimes just for pretend as she takes the children to school and back. Check out Michelle’s Website.
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