Saturday, May 11, 2019

Perfect Disaster Release Blitz





Andi Roswell never wanted to be a rock star. After being accidentally discovered performing drunken karaoke, the Goth girl's life will never be the same. She's now the frontwoman for the heavy metal band Absolution, and is dating the sexy director Leo Black.

Jack Prince is the singer of the classic Goth band Babybat. When Babybat plays the same music festival as Absolution, he and Andi meet and become unlikely friends.
But their lives aren't destined to run smoothly, and when they both find themselves in emotional distress, they only people they have to turn to are each other.





"Oi! Hey, you!" It was deep, lightly accented, and melodic even as it was raised to get her
attention.
Andi stopped, turned, and rammed right into the man who'd been calling her with a loud
exhalation of breath. Her hands came up to keep her from falling, and she wound up
gripping the lapels of a sparkly black suit jacket. Strong hands came to grip her arms as
legs tangled up in hers. They remained upright, which was a small miracle.
She was mortified, face bright red. She was unable to even meet the man’s eyes, she was
so embarrassed. "I am so, so sorry!"
"Quite all right. It's a bit of a madhouse back here."
That voice. She knew that voice. She lifted her head, in her heels she was as tall as the
man so it wasn't a far reach to see his face. Stubble with a bit of grey, plush pink lips,
cheeks with a few wrinkles from smiling, fair skin with an olive undertone, sparkling black
eyes encased in black eyeliner behind designer sunglasses, and slicked back black hair
with threads of silver.
Jack Prince. She'd nearly knocked over Jack Prince. The air once again left her lungs, but
for a good reason this time. The background noise faded away as she was enveloped in ...
him. In his eyes, his little amused smile, even his scent. His cologne smelled like musk
and bergamot. If he hadn't been holding her upright, she was certain that she would have
melted into a little puddle at his feet.
Try as she might to speak, she found herself speechless.
"You all right?" he asked. "I didn't hurt you?"
"No!" Andi blurted out, far too loudly. "I mean, I'm fine. Did I hurt you?"
He shook his head. "Not at all." His smile grew, and she felt her stomach flip flop. Slowly,
he let her arms go, fingers lingering on her skin just a bit. Likewise, she loosened her
death-grip on his lapels. "I didn't mean to startle you. I wanted to catch you before you ran
off. You sing for Absolution. What's your name?"
She'd been called Andi since she was a toddler. The only people allowed to call her by her
full name were strangers and authority figures; she was even listed as ‘Andi’ on the album
credits. But for some unknown reason, she said, "Andrea."
"Andrea," he repeated. "I'm Jack. Pleasure to meet you." He held his hand out to her.
She took it, feeling how warm and strong his grip was. "I know," she said, without meaning
to. "I'm sorry, I meant that I'm a fan of yours. And the band. … I'm just going to stop talking
now." Her face was on fire with embarrassment.
"Well, I'm flattered," he said. "You know, initially I was tasked to stop you by my daughter,
Dahlia. You're her idol." He smiled sweetly. "However, I had an ulterior motive now. I
watched your band's show."
"You did?" Andi asked, more nervous than ever. She had assumed that the band would be
in a hotel or possibly their tour bus until right before their set.
“Yeah, Marky and I did, with my daughter. Your music videos don’t do you justice. That
was one of the best performances I’ve seen in quite some time. I love the use of
synthesizers within your heavy metal structure. Very unique. And you…” His eyes roved
over her. “You were living art. I could tell you felt the music, believed the lyrics. You aren’t
a singer, Andrea. You’re a performer. And that is a rare quality these days.” From years of
watching his interviews, his voice gained deep inflection on certain words when he was
excited or passionate.
Andi was fairly certain that, if this wasn’t a hallucination brought on by passing out from an
anxiety attack, she was going to die of pure joy.

“Mr. Prince, that’s … that’s high praise, coming from you. I don’t know what to say,” she
said, forcing her voice to stay level, for her legs not to shake. To try and remain somewhat
professional after making a fool of herself. She was pretty sure she hadn’t blinked since
first meeting his obsidian eyes.


Samantha Calcott is a secret lover of romance when it's done right, and after years of writing
under another pen name in the horror and paranormal genres, she decided to dip her toe into
a brand new genre.
She's a Midwestern girl who spent nearly a decade in the gritty heart of Los Angeles,
where sex, drugs, and rock n' roll reign. When not writing, she's reading, at a concert, or
cooking.
She currently lives in Arizona and also writes horror and paranormal books as USA Today
bestselling author Lily Luchesi.
Find her via her newsletter, where you can receive a free ebook and get exclusive content monthly.

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