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Blurb:
Danica
Maslanka is a survivalist at heart, and after the way she screwed over the guys
of Discord's Desire in their time of need, Trevor Arceneaux wants nothing to do
with her. Except when their tour brings them to Sin City and they run into
Danica once more, he can’t get the leannan sidhe off his mind.
She’s in dire straits, hunted by the same man who enslaved Trevor for most of his life. He doesn’t trust her for a heartbeat, but he also can’t turn away someone in such a similar circumstance as his own. As their path leads them closer to a confrontation against his former owner, Trevor's loathing for Danica strips away until he finds himself falling for the tough, independent woman. Danica betrayed them once, but as something real blossoms between them, if she backstabs them this time, his trust will be shattered for good.
She’s in dire straits, hunted by the same man who enslaved Trevor for most of his life. He doesn’t trust her for a heartbeat, but he also can’t turn away someone in such a similar circumstance as his own. As their path leads them closer to a confrontation against his former owner, Trevor's loathing for Danica strips away until he finds himself falling for the tough, independent woman. Danica betrayed them once, but as something real blossoms between them, if she backstabs them this time, his trust will be shattered for good.
Excerpt:
The moment he turned the corner, Trevor
froze.
She sat at the bar wielding an appletini
like a weapon, and the trim black dress she wore clung to her lithe form like
it’d been painted on. The neon blue scarf around her neck and matching heels
fit her style to a T, accenting glossy chestnut locks pulled into a chignon and
sharp, inquisitive eyes that sliced like a knife. The leannan sidhe’s pointed
ears and elfin features were the only tip offs of her fae heritage, since she
could blend even without the glamour veil that kept humans unaware of their
kind.
The sight of Danica Maslanka delivered a
one-two punch to the stomach, the reminder of the smoking ruin way things left
off between them.
Trevor lifted the gin and tonic as he
approached. “So, let me guess, poisoned?”
Her plum lips quirked in a pert grin. When
they’d first met, he’d found her stunning, but nothing painted someone in
shades of ugly like betrayal. “Like I’d be so classless to offer a poisoned
drink. I was looking for a way to chat one-on-one, and I figured if I sent an
email, you’d ignore it.”
“You’d be right.” Trevor took a seat
beside her. He did trust that she hadn’t poisoned the drink—the woman wasn’t a
killer, she just possessed no ounce of moral fortitude. Like he should’ve
expected more from one of his kind. When Ky’s brother Larsen Blackmore targeted
the band, sending mercenaries after them six months ago, Danica had showed up
with a similar vendetta and they’d joined forces.
Until Ky got kidnapped and Danica ditched.
She had Larsen in her sights and nailing him to a cross meant more than saving
their lead singer. The last time they heard from her, she hung up on Liz while
Ky was the worst sort of screwed. Trevor’s blood heated all over again, and he
took a sip of the gin and tonic to cool his nerves.
He met her eyes, not betraying an ounce of
the bitterness. “What’s so important you needed to stalk me all the way to
Vegas. Not a close drive from San Fran.”
Danica glanced away, her gaze flickering
to the columns behind the bar. “San Francisco and I are on the outs. Besides,
my staff has always been urging me to take a vacation, so I figured now would
be a fantastic time.”
Bull. Shit.
“Wouldn’t Los Angeles be better real
estate for your talents?” Trevor asked. If she wanted to play around, he’d
indulge. After all, whatever reason brought her to him couldn’t have been a
good one. “There’s more glitz than talent around here.” A leannan sidhe like
her fed from artists in the same way Ky and Renn siphoned energy from sex and
passion. He just leeched off of the crowds’ energy, so playing shows offered
the perfect medium.
“And miss out on the chance to grab a
drink with legendary guitarist Trevor Arceneaux? Never.” She placed a hand to
her chest in mock surprise, the sarcasm fluid as a stream mid-storm. He had to
give her credit for thoroughness—he kept his last name off the internet, so she
must’ve gone an alternate route to obtain the information.
Trevor took a sip from his drink, the
coolness gliding down his throat like relief. Not like he’d reached some state
of calm. If anything, Danica’s presence hotwired his emergency alarms to
constant alert. The woman didn’t act without motivation and ultimately placed
her agenda above all else.
“How’s your sister doing?” he asked. Two
could tango along the knife’s edge.
Danica’s gaze sharpened, if possible. The
heartless woman had her weaknesses, no matter how she tried to downplay or hide
them. After all—she had never been the one with a personal vendetta against
Larsen. Everything she’d done was for the sake of her sister.
“She’d be better if she could get a seat
at one of your shows,” Danica responded, trilling sweet as a sparrow. “A little
birdie told me your show at the Joint tomorrow night is already sold out. When
did you boys go from garage band blues to Rolling Stones?”
Avoidance of the highest order—that had been
Danica’s game from the moment they met her. Too bad for her he’d played the
game for as long as he could remember. Whatever roundabouts she took, he’d
follow, until he managed to suss out her motivations for tracking him here.
“The bar’s set for sleazy in Vegas, and
that’s the reputation we’ve cultivated for ourselves.” Trevor took another sip
from his drink, the icy gin trickling down his throat. Not like the liquor did
anything to sate the thread of exhaustion pulling tighter in him each passing
day, ready to snap at any moment.
Danica’s eyes narrowed. She stared past
him, and the back of his neck prickled.
“We’re being watched,” she murmured, her
lips barely moving. She placed her appletini on the bar.
Previous
books: Captivating Melody (Discord’s Desire #1)
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Cross a satyr, a
siren, and an incubus with rock and roll, and you get Discord’s Desire, a band
of panty-dropping hellions whose live shows incite orgies. Of course, their
booking manager, Liz O’Brien, gets saddled with the monumental task of keeping
the boys in line. She’s not your average chick, resistant to glamour of the fae
and fame variety, which only makes her more tempting to their lead singer,
Kieran Blackmore. With his incubus charms, silken voice, and GQ looks, he could
have any girl he wants—except Liz. She doesn’t do serious flings, and she’s
determined to keep things professional.
However, when Kieran’s brother sends hitmen after the band, Liz discovers others with her abilities—hunters, who just declared themselves enemies of the fae. Liz leans on Kieran for support, who proves his dedication at every step. Fae mercenaries might attack post-show, but Liz has her Beretta to handle that. What terrifies her more than any monster chasing after them is how she’s falling for Kieran. Her deep feelings trigger every ‘run-away’ sensor in her foster kid handbook, and worse, with war brewing between the hunters and the fae, their love can only end in heartbreak.
However, when Kieran’s brother sends hitmen after the band, Liz discovers others with her abilities—hunters, who just declared themselves enemies of the fae. Liz leans on Kieran for support, who proves his dedication at every step. Fae mercenaries might attack post-show, but Liz has her Beretta to handle that. What terrifies her more than any monster chasing after them is how she’s falling for Kieran. Her deep feelings trigger every ‘run-away’ sensor in her foster kid handbook, and worse, with war brewing between the hunters and the fae, their love can only end in heartbreak.
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