Title: Spark
Author: S.L.
Scott
Genre:
Standalone Contemporary Romance
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SYNOPSIS
One break is all
The Crow Brothers need and we’re about to get it.
Johnny Outlaw,
rock legend and lead singer of The Resistance, is here to watch us play. But
he’s not the only familiar face in the crowd—killer little body, heart-shaped
face, and drop-dead gorgeous.
Hannah Nichols
sitting at the bar makes it hard to concentrate, sparks already reigniting. The
beauty was never a groupie and tonight she’s not here to catch our show. She
came to drop a bomb. “You have a son.”
She
underestimated me. I’ll prove to my son, and her, that I can be the dad he
needs.
What is it about
musicians? Why are they so damn sexy?
My heart was Jet
Crow’s the moment he opened his sexy mouth and sang that first song. One stolen
night with that man would never be enough, but I’m not here to fall into his
bed. Again. I’m here to fight for custody of a son he’s never known.
There’s just one
problem. Those sparks between us have become flames. If we’re not careful we’re
both going to get burned.
Title: Spark
Author: S.L.
Scott
Genre:
Standalone Contemporary Romance
Release Date:
February 22, 2018
Cover Design:
RBA Designs
SPARK
EXCERPT
Prologue
Jet
Crow
Subtle scents of
cinnamon mix with the taste of whiskey on her skin. I lick her from collarbone
to the back of her ear, her moans enticing me to take more than a gentle share
of what I want.
I’m well past
hooking up with groupies, but something drew me to the beautiful brunette.
Under the bright spotlight of that stage, my eyes found hers as I sang about
finding the missing piece of
me. Maybe it was
the way she pretended to not care, catching my eyes and then turning away as if
she was too shy to come speak to me, but too good to be bothered. It didn’t
matter. I was already caught up in her as much as she was caught up in me.
The set ended and
I made my way over to the mystery woman, the one who hid in the dark of the bar
just as two shots were served. I took the shot of Fireball and then took her
home shortly after.
Fuck. She feels
good.
Hard little body,
but soft in all the right places. Tits that fill my large hands and legs that
spread enough for me to squeeze between her thighs. I bet she wouldn’t reach my
shoulders in heels. Speaking of, “Keep them on.”
I like the feel
of the leather against my lower back, the hard heel scraping across my skin
when she tries to power play me by tightening around my waist and pulling me
closer. I didn’t ask her to my bedroom. I didn’t have a chance. What started
out as laughing while we shared a two a.m. snack of Cheetos, hummus, and
whiskey turned into me eating her as a snack on top of my kitchen counter. I
don’t ever do that with a one-nighter, but damn if she didn’t make me want to
break more rules with her.
She kisses me
like a woman in need of water, taking as much as she wants while pressing her
heels into my ass. The heat between us emanates until I’m dragging my shirt off
to try to cool down.
I knew she was
different the moment she opened her mouth back at the bar. “You sing rock with
so much soul. Who hurt you?”
“No one gets
close enough to do me any harm.”
“That’s a pity.”
“It’s a pity I’ve
never been hurt?”
“No, it’s a pity
you’ve never loved anyone enough to get hurt.”
My heart started
beating for what felt like the first time as I looked into her sultry eyes. I
could blame the booze, but I can’t lie to myself. She had me thinking twice on
things I never considered once before. Who was this woman? Even with our
stomachs full, we weren’t satisfied. She dragged me by the belt down the hall
to my bedroom. Her clothes were off and mine quickly followed before we tumbled
into bed.
Fast. I want to
fuck her fast and hard, but every time our eyes connect there’s such sadness
found in her grays that I slow down. Wanting her to hold contact, I cup her
cheek. “Hannah?”
Her eyes slowly
open, the long lashes framing the lust I find between them. “What?” she asks
between heavy breaths.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m good.”
“Just making
sure.”
She runs her
hands up my neck and into the back of my hair. “I’m sure.” Pulling me down to
her, our mouths are just a few inches apart when she whispers, “I want you. I
want to do this.”
Shy isn’t
something I’d call her considering we were in my bed two hours after meeting. I
like a woman who knows what she wants. Hannah knows. And fuck if it isn’t a
turn on that she wants me.
About
The Author
Living in the
capital of Texas with her family, Scott loves traveling and avocados, beaches,
and cooking with her kids. She's obsessed with epic romances and loves a good
plot twist. Her favorite color is blue, but she likens it more toward the sky
than the emotion. Her home is filled with the welcoming symbol of the pineapple
and finds surfing a challenge though she likes to think she's a pro.
AUTHOR
LINKS
The Scott Scoop: http://bit.ly/2TheScoop
