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*****

Star

A 44 Chapters Novel

by BB Easton

Release: April 12, 2018

Blurb:

Because BB Easton had so much fun writing her best-selling, award-winning memoir, 44 CHAPTERS ABOUT 4 MEN, she decided to give each of her four men his own steamy stand-alone. STAR is Hans’s book—a real-life rock star romance…with a twist.

In 1999, Brooke “BB” Bradley met her Prince Charming. He was the tall, tattooed, wickedly handsome bass player for the up-and-coming rock band, Phantom Limb. But, more importantly, he was hers. She knew it the moment he flashed her that shy, dimpled smile.

And he knew it too.

Hansel “Hans” Oppenheimer wore his heart on one sleeve and scrawled lyrics about BB on the other. Unlike the assholes of her past, he showered her with tenderness, took her places she’d never been before, and showed her the type of all-consuming love she’d thought only existed in fairy tales.

But, like any good fairy tale, BB’s road to happily ever after was paved with challenges, and right when she least expected it…it forked.

In 1999, Brooke “BB” Bradley met her Prince Charming.

In 2000, she met her soul mate.

Amazon US: http://bit.ly/STAR-AmUS

Amazon UK: http://bit.ly/STAR-AmUK

Amazon CA: http://bit.ly/STAR-AmCA

Amazon AU: http://bit.ly/STAR-AmAU

Goodreads: https://goo.gl/MZTC9R

Check out the rest of the series:

44 Chapters: http://bit.ly/44chapters-AmUS

Skin: http://bit.ly/Skin-AmUS

Speed: http://bit.ly/Speed-AmUS

*****

Excerpt:

Equestria

I awoke, nauseous and confused, in a lilac-colored room plastered with peeling My Little Pony decals. The midday sunlight leaked in through the closed blinds, searing and uninvited. The sheets touching my exposed skin were itchy. Stifling. And my mouth tasted like the inside of a beer bottle that had been used as an ashtray.

Ugh.

I searched my alcohol-logged brain for clues that might help explain why I was waking up inside the magical land of Equestria. Images from the night before began to surface, grainy and out of order. It was like flipping through a scattered stack of Polaroids taken during a house party—scene after scene of teenagers in black lipstick and black vinyl thrashing in the darkness. A house party. A keg in the kitchen. A heavy-metal band playing in the living room. A guy. A tall guy with messy black hair and a full sleeve of horror-movie tattoos.

The bass player.

Locking eyes with Clover, a purple pony with a peeling pink mane, I thought, This is what Cinderella must have felt like the morning after the ball. Except I don’t even have a glass slipper to prove it was real. And also, I’m pretty sure Cinderella wasn’t this hungover.

Groaning, I pulled the pony-covered polyester comforter up under my chin and rolled over.

Onto a body.

I screamed and scrambled backward, realizing a moment too late that, with two people in a twin-size bed, there was no backward to scramble to. As soon as I felt myself falling over the edge, I reached out and grabbed the first thing I could get my hands on.

It was an arm. And it was covered with the stuff of nightmares. Hellraiser and Jason and Freddy and Pennywise sneered at me as I clawed at their faces, trying to keep from going overboard.

The arm flexed and jerked away from me, but I held on for dear life. The motion yanked me back onto the bed where I landed face-first with a smack on the bare chest of my unexpected roommate.

Laughter, deep yet boyish, vibrated under my cheek.

“You scared the shit outta me!” the beast chuckled, wrapping his tattooed arm around my shoulders and pulling me in closer. The gesture and the warmth from his body turned my insides to goo.

“You scared the shit outta me!” I giggled, smacking him on the chest. I wanted to sit up and look at him, make sure he was real, ask him a million questions about what had happened the night before, but I couldn’t. Not yet.

As I snuggled into his side and draped my right arm over his bare torso, I inhaled and savored his masculine scent—cigarette smoke and sweat. The smell of rock and roll. I smiled against his chest and let my eyes roam over the hills and valleys of his abs, which were peeking out from under the covers. I couldn’t believe this was the same man who’d intimidated me the night before. He might look like seventy-five inches of pierced, tattooed, heavy-metal mayhem, but he was one hundred percent snuggle bunny.

On a sigh, I finally forced myself to sit up. The giant gazed up at me with soft, denim-colored eyes, rimmed in lashes so thick and black they looked like eyeliner. My heart sputtered.

“What are you doing in here?” I asked, smiling even wider and trying not to think about the hungover swamp monster I must have resembled.

“I was sleeping…until somebody sank her fuckin’ talons into my arm.” Hans looked down at his bicep. “I’m surprised I’m not bleeding.”

I laughed. “You know, for a guy with Freddy Krueger tattooed on his arm, you’re kind of a pussy.”

“I thought I was being attacked by Freddy Krueger,” Hans teased, rolling onto his side and propping his head up on his hand. “He waits until you’re asleep, you know.”

Hans’s bottom half was covered by the world’s girliest comforter, but his top half…

Drool.

*****

Author Info:

BB Easton lives in the suburbs of Atlanta, Georgia with her long-suffering husband, Ken, and two adorable children. She recently quit her job as a school psychologist to write stories about her punk rock past and deviant sexual history full-time. Ken is suuuper excited about it.

Facebook: http://www.fb.com/bbeaston

Instagram: http://www.instagram.com/author.bb.easton

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/bb_easton

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/artbyeaston

Goodreads: https://goo.gl/4hiwiR

Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/user/bbeaston

Etsy: http://www.etsy.com/shop/artbyeaston

*****

Giveaway:

$24 Gift Card

https://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/a8323af850/

*****