THE WORST OF ME BY LISA J HOBMAN
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Nick Dacre is the epitome of the classic rock star. Women, booze and luxury are handed to him on a daily basis and life is great.
Until another alcohol fuelled sexual encounter forces him to realise that, in spite of his many achievements, his life and the relationships therein have no real meaning.
Now feeling trapped in a life he is expected to continue leading a terrifying event forces him to re-evaluate his future.
The words of a stunning and feisty, Scottish chambermaid, met whilst on tour in London, return to haunt him.
Are her words the key to the drastic changes he needs to make?
Will he find himself but lose his heart in the process?
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★★★THE
WORST OF ME BY LISA J HOBMAN
★★★
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Nick
Dacre is the epitome of the classic rock star. Women, booze and
luxury are handed to him on a daily basis and life is great.
Until
another alcohol fuelled sexual encounter forces him to realise that,
in spite of his many achievements, his life and the relationships
therein have no real meaning.
Now
feeling trapped in a life he is expected to continue leading a
terrifying event forces him to re-evaluate his future.
The
words of a stunning and feisty, Scottish chambermaid, met whilst on
tour in London, return to haunt him.
Are
her words the key to the drastic changes he needs to make?
Will
he find himself but lose his heart in the process?
Add
To Goodreads -
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/29365604-the-worst-of-me?ac=1&from_search=true
★★★Purchase
Links★★★
Amazon
UK – http://amzn.to/2dwPJqi
Amazon
USA – http://amzn.to/2dwPcEz
★★★About
The Author ★★★
I'm
a happily married mum with two crazy dogs and a thing for men with
tattoos! In May 2012 I relocated from Yorkshire to my favourite place
in the world, Scotland. The time since then has been a rollercoaster!
I
love writing, singing and I'm very passionate about music. My tastes
are quite eclectic.
My
debut novel Bridge Over the Atlantic was shortlisted in the 2014 RoNA
awards and I have written many more since!
★★★You
Can Stalk Lisa Here:
★★★
Facebook
– https://www.facebook.com/LisaJHobmanAuthor
Goodreads
– https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7025491.Lisa_J_Hobman
Twitter
– https://twitter.com/LisaJHobmanAuth
Website
- http://www.lisajhobman.co.uk/
EXCLUSIVE
MATERIAL
EXCLUSIVE
EXCERPT - THE WORST OF ME -COPYRIGHT LISA J HOBMAN
NOT
TO BE COPIED OR DISTRIBUTED WITHOUT EXPRESS PERMISSION FROM LISA J
HOBMAN
“What
the fu-?!” Nick Dacre carefully blinked open his eyes, squinting as
bright rays of daylight stung like daggers and his pupils fought to
adjust. The 747 that was coming in to land very close by was doing
nothing to help his thumping head. He slowly turned to one side and
noticed a ridiculous number of bottles strewn around the room—varying
types of alcoholic beverages had obviously once filled them but all
were now evidently empty. Clenching his eyes shut for a moment he
felt disgusted and disgusting simultaneously. His stomach roiled as
another turn of his head revealed a naked blonde woman.
He
had no idea a) who she was and b) how she ended up, in her current
state of undress, in his bed…in his hotel room. He made to sit up
and it was only then that the room began to do a three-sixty turn
around his head.
“Gah!”
He raised his hands to his temples as if it would help to stop the
spinning but his attempts were futile and the room’s rotation
continued in earnest. The rancid taste of stale alcohol in his mouth
made him wonder if he had perhaps been licking dustbin lids in his
drunken stupor—or frenching with Jabba The Hutt maybe?
The
blonde began to stir.
He
froze and held his breath.
The
silly thing was he had woken up in this exact state on so many
occasions he’d lost count. But for some reason this felt…different.
The 747 got closer. Scrunching his pained eyes he turned towards the
god-awful noise and realised it was the chambermaid with a vacuum
cleaner.
“Morning,
sleepyhead!” a familiar sing-song voice called from the adjoining
sitting room of the large suite, and its owner rounded the corner. “I
let the maid in to sort your mess out. Good God, it stinks in here!”
Den, the band’s rather camp, post middle-aged manager walked
towards Nick. Unlike the singer Den was far too perky as usual,
sunglasses atop his head and looking like he had stepped off the set
of the advert for a well-known fizzy drink…a delightful shade of
orange with his newly applied spray tan.
“What
the hell happened last night, Den? I feel like shit,” Nick
whispered, scared to speak any louder in case the comatose blonde
gained full consciousness beside him.
“Ooh,
shame on you for needing to ask.” Den waved an excited hand. “It
was a fantastic night. We rocked the O2 arena—but I’m sure you
remember that particular little snippet—and then you all got
completely rat-arsed at the after show party.” The fifty-year-old
regaled him in his broad Yorkshire accent whilst he eyed up the
blonde with derision. “Some of us clearly got lucky too.”
Nick
rubbed his eyes. “I…I remember the gig of course…and…I
remember the start of the party…but…not much else. Not good.”
He shook his head as he scrambled around his brain and fought to
regain the memories from the previous night.
The
vacuum cleaner fell silent and the mystery blonde sat bolt upright
with a sharp cry, making Nick almost jump out of his skin and jerk
his head in her direction. Her eyes widened as her horrified stare
flitted between the two men. Without speaking she glanced down at her
body and squealed before grappling the sheets and covering her bare,
obviously enhanced breasts.
Den
tilted his head to one side and pouted at the bewildered woman. In
his most famous condescending tone he said, “Aww, bit late for
that, love, really.” Her cheeks coloured cerise and he responded
with a dirty, coarse cackled laugh. Turning his attention back to
Nick he began to back away toward the door. “Well, I’ll leave you
two love-birds to say your goodbyes. Better get your shit together,
Dacre. We set off for Germany in just over an hour. Toodles!” He
winked, waggled his fingers and left the suite.
The
chambermaid poked her head around the door. “Ahem…Mr…erm…Mr
Dacre? Is it okay for me to collect up your empties now? I didn’t
want to wake you and your…erm…girlfriend before…but I really
need to get on and do the rest of the suites or my boss will be on my
case.” The young, make-up free girl stood fiddling with the vacuum
cleaner cable. Nick figured she couldn’t have been any older than
eighteen and he was a little amused at the fact she was wearing an
oversized grey chambermaid’s uniform which hung from her skinny
frame like it belonged to someone else. Her straight blonde hair was
scraped back in a ponytail. So young and innocent. Nick frowned at
the errant thought invading his mind and tried to push away the
additional thought that she was much too young to witness the
remnants of such debauchery.
In
spite of his best efforts to ignore the unfamiliar niggling guilt
knotting his stomach, the heat of shame rose in Nick’s cheeks.
He
nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, sure. My…girlfriend is just leaving.” He
cringed as he turned his attention from the chambermaid to the blonde
stranger in his bed.
About The Author
I'm a happily married mum with two crazy dogs and a thing for men with tattoos! In May 2012 I relocated from Yorkshire to my favourite place in the world, Scotland. The time since then has been a rollercoaster!
I love writing, singing and I'm very passionate about music. My tastes are quite eclectic.
My debut novel Bridge Over the Atlantic was shortlisted in the 2014 RoNA awards and I have written many more since!
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