Cole Brandt was the self-centered and philandering lead singer for Generation RejectsVivian Baily was a flaky, attention seeking drama queen.
Apart they were challenging…together they were complete and total chaos.
Cole and Vivian were two people who should never have been together.
Yet they crashed into each other at every turn.
Their relationship was anything but stable. But it was passionate. It was messy. It was hopelessly seductive. And it might possibly drive them both insane.
They fought. They made up. They screamed. They made love.
They hated and they loved in equal measure.
And now that Generation Rejects are starting to hit it big and the band is on the road, temptation and massive egos could very well spell the end of their roller coaster.
If only they could stay away from each other.
But Vivian has finally reached her breaking point. Tired of their endless cycle, she is ready to say goodbye to Cole for good.
Yet Cole isn’t one to go away quietly. Particularly when he is starting to realize exactly what he stands to lose if Vivian walks away.
As his world begins to turn upside down, Cole realizes that the one person who can hold him together is the girl who may no longer want him.
Love can be a comedy of errors, particularly for two people who never seem to get the timing right.
And In the crazy world of rock and roll, the hardest lessons to learn just might be the ones with the sweetest rewards
EXCERPT:
I pressed myself up against Cole, my face an inch from his. My heart was thumping wildly, my blood was buzzing with fury.
“I am sick of your bullshit, Cole. You better walk the line tonight or you’ll be sorry. Do I make myself clear? I didn’t come all this way to be humiliated by you. If you want me here, then fucking act like it,” I hissed.
Cole’s eyes snapped and sizzled, his chest heaving up and down. He was flushed and just as furious as I was.
Then he grabbed the back of my head, his fingers curling into my hair and smashed his mouth down on mine.
The kiss was bruising and forceful. This wasn’t about romance. This was about domination. I bit down on his bottom lip and could taste his blood.
He pulled away, his lips swollen and bleeding. “I’m happy you’re here. Is that what you want me to say? Is that what you want to hear?” He grabbed my upper arms and pushed me back against the wall, his pelvis thrusting against mine.
“Does that make you happy?” he demanded.
I couldn’t take my eyes away from him. He was gorgeous. And he made me feel completely and totally alive. I craved this manic insanity that I only seemed to experience when I was with him.
Why couldn’t I be content with nice and normal? Why did I crawl over broken glass for this madness?
Why did I allow Cole to degrade me and humiliate me over and over again? Why did I scream at him and make a scene just so I could get this reaction from him?
What the hell was wrong with me?
“I am sick of your bullshit, Cole. You better walk the line tonight or you’ll be sorry. Do I make myself clear? I didn’t come all this way to be humiliated by you. If you want me here, then fucking act like it,” I hissed.
Cole’s eyes snapped and sizzled, his chest heaving up and down. He was flushed and just as furious as I was.
Then he grabbed the back of my head, his fingers curling into my hair and smashed his mouth down on mine.
The kiss was bruising and forceful. This wasn’t about romance. This was about domination. I bit down on his bottom lip and could taste his blood.
He pulled away, his lips swollen and bleeding. “I’m happy you’re here. Is that what you want me to say? Is that what you want to hear?” He grabbed my upper arms and pushed me back against the wall, his pelvis thrusting against mine.
“Does that make you happy?” he demanded.
I couldn’t take my eyes away from him. He was gorgeous. And he made me feel completely and totally alive. I craved this manic insanity that I only seemed to experience when I was with him.
Why couldn’t I be content with nice and normal? Why did I crawl over broken glass for this madness?
Why did I allow Cole to degrade me and humiliate me over and over again? Why did I scream at him and make a scene just so I could get this reaction from him?
What the hell was wrong with me?
What the hell was wrong with us?
I was so turned on I could barely stand. I wanted him to take me then and there. I didn’t give a crap about the people openly gawking at us. I thrived on it.
I wanted the hard press of his body against mine. I wanted the chaos.
“Yes! It makes me happy,” I bit out, giving him that tiny victory.
“Good,” he said, leaning in and kissing me tenderly on the nose. His thumbs caressed the side of my face. A remarkably gentle act from such a volatile man.
“Stand in front. I want to see you when I sing,” Cole murmured, leaning in to kiss me on the mouth. And this one wasn’t hateful or angry. It was soft and almost loving. And it shook me to my core.
Then he was gone and I stood there, my back against the wall, trying to catch my breath, not sure what the hell had just happened.
I was so turned on I could barely stand. I wanted him to take me then and there. I didn’t give a crap about the people openly gawking at us. I thrived on it.
I wanted the hard press of his body against mine. I wanted the chaos.
“Yes! It makes me happy,” I bit out, giving him that tiny victory.
“Good,” he said, leaning in and kissing me tenderly on the nose. His thumbs caressed the side of my face. A remarkably gentle act from such a volatile man.
“Stand in front. I want to see you when I sing,” Cole murmured, leaning in to kiss me on the mouth. And this one wasn’t hateful or angry. It was soft and almost loving. And it shook me to my core.
Then he was gone and I stood there, my back against the wall, trying to catch my breath, not sure what the hell had just happened.
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A. Meredith spent ten years as a counselor for at risk teens and children. First working at a Domestic Violence/Sexual Assault program and then later a program for children with severe emotional and mental health issues. Her former clients and their stories continue to influence every aspect of her writing.
When not writing (or being tortured with all manner of beauty products at the hand of her very imaginative and extremely girly daughter), she is eating chocolate, watching reality television that could rot your brain and reading a smutty novel or two.
A. Meredith is represented by Michelle Johnson with the Inklings Literary Agency.
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