I wrote this book two years ago, and since book one is coming out tomorrow, I already started on book two! However, the super secret is that it’s out EARLY! Grab your copy HERE today!
Here’s a sneak peek of the first page:
The stench of sweat, sex, and Chanel Number Five were never going to come out of Liz O’Brien’s jeans. She frowned as her Keds gummed to the floor backstage for the five thousandth time. That was the last gig they’d ever do at Peekaboos.
She peered past the stage out to the main floor of the strip club where a plethora of half- empty TicTac white tables populated the place. The remaining folks embarked on the bump and grind journey that at one tender age might’ve shocked and appalled her, but by now, she rolled her eyes and shut out the moans. Liz winced every time her shoe stuck to the black-and-white tiled floor as she crossed the room. Pink lighting skated throughout the place, even post-show, adding to the seedy ambiance.
She raked a hand through her long chestnut locks, a couple pieces drying to her face from the heat they pumped through this place. Guess since their strippers were shedding clothes, the staff had to keep ‘em comfortable.
Jett stood by the far door, giving her the ‘I’m bored look,’ which she’d come to realize happened about every two point five seconds when he wasn’t onstage or getting laid. After playing the bass for their earlier show, he’d tied back his dark strands, and his light blue eyes had a familiar twinkle in them. Average girls would see a ladykiller who screamed sex from his pores.
Liz noticed the prettier-than-average looks, but she also saw the greenish tint to Jett’s pale skin and the delicate gills along his neck. Since she’d never met her parents, Liz didn’t know the ‘why’ of her ability, but she’d always seen past the fae glamour shielding normal humans from the weird.
Jett lifted his sculpted brow in a cynical arch he’d perfected, jabbing at his watch as if she dragged along at a snail’s pace.
“The bar’s not going to disappear if you’re a couple minutes late,” Liz called out, quickening her pace to close the distance between them.
“Lies. I know for certain there’s an expiration date on the JD with my name on it. Six months on the road with us and you’d think you would catch on.” Jett slung his arm around her shoulder, the familiar weight one she’d never expected from her former one-night stand.
“It’s a miracle I’ve been able to put up with you lot for this long.”
Even though the first time she met Jett they’d fumbled in a back alley together, Liz much preferred him as her tether of sanity and staunch friend on the road. After all, traveling with rockstars was bad enough. The satyr, siren, banshee, and incubus were the real deal when it came to sex gods, with powers that worked on every human except her. She navigated the regular folks to book their gigs, while they made sure she wasn’t fae-bait to any supernatural who noticed her unique skill set.
Together she and Jett stepped out of the steamy room, which had begun to smell a little rank, and made their way down the narrow corridor leading to the front door. Neon pink lit the hallway, nauseatingly similar to the spotlights gleaming onto an opening act Liz would need bleach to remove from her memory banks.
“Good riddance,” Liz muttered as they strode through the doors onto the concrete landing.