Synopsis
Putting others needs before his own
was all Mike Carson had ever done.
First, it was the friends he loved
more than family. Then it was his country. By nineteen, he was a
father, a husband and fighting in a war not many people believed in.
After an accident ended his career and his life fell apart, he filled
his days keeping screaming fans from reaching the most famous country
rock star in the world. And, pining after a woman who would never
love him.
Then, everything changed.
He thought he could handle anything
that was thrown his way. He thought running my security detail would
be the easiest job he’d ever had. He thought he’d be able to keep
me safe without getting attached.
He was wrong.
They call me reckless, selfish, and
slutty. In reality, I’ve just stopped caring what everyone else
thinks. I’m determined to have some fun, to live life my way, and
to make Mike realize that being a little selfish isn't the worst
thing in the world.
I think we both have our work cut
out for us.
Releasing October 2015
OTHER BOOKS BY CARINA ADAMS
Forever Red
Always Been Mine (The Bastards
MC #1)
Honey Whiskey (The Bastards MC
#2)
Excerpt
I hate
country songs.
I fucking
despise the whiney ass pathetic excuse for music. I’m not a
psychologist, but I’d bet big money that there is a direct link to
the rising depression rates in America and the songs played on
country radio. Everyone’s heard that horrible joke ‘What do you
get when you play a country tune backwards?’ You get your wife
back, you get your home back, you get your dog back, you get your
kids back, and on and on. Truer story has never been told.
Grown men,
singing songs about the world doing them wrong, and crying about
their achy breaky heart, disgust me. Fucking grow a pair you useless
douche. You lost your job? That sucks, guy. Really. Ok, you had five
minutes to be pissed, now man up and get another one. Your woman left
you? I’m actually not surprised. At least one of you has some
common sense and she realized that she was more of a man than you
are. Can’t live without her? Get off your ass and go get her back
instead of singing a song that reminds her how worthless you are.
Your attempt at a love song won’t make her realize her life is shit
without you. Because it isn’t. The world’s problems won’t be
solved in the bottom of a whiskey glass while you are hiding from
life. Moron.
Fucking hate
country music.
Yet, here I
am, sitting at the bar at Hooligan’s Pub, nursing my third
Tennessee Honey. The same place I am every single Wednesday. For
Country night. Every week I tell myself it’s my last, that I am not
coming back the next. But, I never fucking listen.
Like the
glutton for punishment I am though, every damn week I come back here,
park my ass on a stool and get twisted while I listen to the music I
can’t stand. I never thought I was a masochist. But, I will sit
here and torture myself, gritting my teeth through every Billy Ray
Cyrus song, just to hear the familiar chords of the outlaw country I
miss.
As much as I
complain about the classics sung by hillbilly hicks, I long to hear
the familiar tunes I’ve come to love. Give me Gary Allan, Eric
Church or Nate Kelly. Men that aren’t afraid to move away from
their genre’s conventions; men that are men, goddammit, and aren’t
afraid to tell the world exactly who they are. That’s music I can
get behind.
That’s the
music of my life.
So, here I
am, on my night off, waiting to hear the songs I’ve heard played
thousands of times while my friends sang to sold-out stadiums.
Because, they remind me of a time when my job was to protect the man
on stage at all costs, and life was a helluva lot better than it is
now. And, I drink my whiskey until I can’t remember why I gave up
the job that I love, why I don’t want to go home alone, or why
every woman I see is a redhead, even if she’s not.
I’d just
lifted my empty glass, signaling for another refill, when I felt
someone slide into the stool next to me. I didn’t even glance her
way; I didn’t need to. She could be hottest piece of ass to ever
walk in here, or she could be completely deformed. It didn’t matter
because it’s only one face I see.
“I’ll
have what he’s having,” this one tells Fred, who merely raises a
single brow at me before nodding. “So, you come here often?” I
almost snort at the obnoxiousness of her question. Does anyone really
ask that? Instead, I offer a nod, still not looking at her. This one
at least sounds the part. The voice is almost just like the one I
miss and I don’t want to ruin the illusion by looking at her. Fred
slides her drink toward her, and then taps the bar in front of me,
moving his eyes to her really quickly when I look up. She must be
hot. It doesn’t matter to me though, so I purse my lips and frown
at my drink.
“This is
actually my first time here,” the woman next to me continues, as if
I’d asked her the same question. “I didn’t even know it was
here. But, a friend told me I’d find what I was looking for here.”
And, there it is. She’s looking for a hook up. The one night stand
that won’t call her or bug her the next day. That’s me, Honey. I
definitely won’t call you ‘cause I don’t even see you now. She
mutters on, but I don’t hear a word she says, too busy lost in my
memories.
As suddenly
as she started talking, she stopped. The quiet throws me, and I wait,
expecting her to make the first move. After several minutes of
nothing, I get antsy and tip back my glass, intending to gulp down
the drink and then bite the bullet. Before I can, she slams her drink
down on the counter top and swears.
“For fucks
sake, Mikey, you’re seriously gonna sit there and ignore me?”
The glass
tumbled out of my hand, but I’m too busy looking at the woman next
to me to see if the amber liquid spilled all over me as well as the
bar. Anger filled hazel eyes meet my own, and an infuriated red head
is glaring at me with a fierceness I’ve missed. “Lee?” I think
I ask, but I’m not sure if it’s mumbled or spoken.
She snorts,
as if I’m the biggest idiot she’s ever talked to, and puts her
hands on her hips. “How much have you had to drink, you ass? I’ve
been talking to you for a half hour. Who in the hell did you think it
was?”
I shook my
head, trying to clear the confusion. Why was she here? Isn’t she on
her honeymoon? On tour with Nate? I didn’t even realize I was
asking the questions out loud until she leaned in close. “If you
ever answered your goddamned phone, you’d know exactly where I was
and what I was doing.”
I shook my
head again. “I told you I’d call when I wasn’t busy.”
Her eyes
flashed dangerously. “You look real busy, Mike. Real fucking busy
holding up a bar stool. I can see how that’s important.”
Suddenly I
was tired. Beyond exhausted. “Why are you here Lia?”
Her beautiful
face contorted into a scowl. “I’m here to get your sorry ass and
bring you home.”
About the Author:
Carina
Adams has been writing and creating characters for as long as she can
remember, allowing her to fall in love with the next man of her
dreams with every new story.
Thankfully,
fate stepped in and granted her the ultimate wish - a life full of
men. Carina lives in a picturesque New England town with her husband,
the man who ruined the thought of all others, and two amazing sons
who always keep her on her toes.
She
holds an MBA, but would much rather play with her imaginary friends
(the voices in her head) than work her 8 to 5. Her obsession with all
things Disney, sci-fi movie knowledge, fluency in sarcasm and crazy
friends help her forget that she actually is a grown up. In her free
time, you can find her with her nose pressed against her kindle or
living life vicariously as her Derby Girl persona, Writers Block.
Carina
is the author of the Bastards MC series and best-selling Forever Red.
She is currently writing Out of The Blue, the follow up to Forever
Red. She loves to hear feedback from her readers, no matter what
type. You can email her at: carinaadamswrites@gmail.com
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