Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 60750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Three rock gods, and they all want me.
Becoming a lead singer is leading to so much more than just the top of the charts.
Who knew the band would back me up, blow me away, and bring me to the brink of ecstasy?
It’s perfect—until a rival ex’s lies threaten to destroy our dreams, just as they’re starting to come true.
Moving to Los Angeles came out of nowhere, but nothing could have prepared me for being introduced to my backup band.
Rhys, the lead guitarist and charmer who could wrap any woman around his little finger.
Cameron, the sensitive artist who makes me feel like home.
And Van, the dark, dominant songwriter who’s not afraid to put me in my place.
Each member is hotter than the last. And they all have eyes (and other body parts) for me!
But there are unforeseen challenges at the top of the music industry: predators, pressure, and rabid paparazzi.
When a superstar ex-girlfriend finds out about us, she threatens to make it all rain down. Her followers love to exact vengeance on anyone who goes against her.
I’m being pulled in all directions and there’s only one way to make this work.
United we stand, divided we fall…
Can our love keep the band together, or will it be all of our undoing?
One Bride for the Band is a steamy standalone 55,000 word novel with hot, sweet, charm, a HEA with a surprise bonus, and no cheating!
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Prologue
Alyssa
Later
Van stands in the bright light of the doorway, his form nearly silhouetted. He is clad in only soft gray jeans with rips in the knees. The top button is undone, just revealing the striped waistband of his black boxer briefs. He carelessly traces the faint lines of his washboard abs with lazy fingers, the same fingers that have written some of the lyrics I sing.
I want to trace those lines. With my tongue.
“Princess,” he says, his eyes meeting mine. His dark eyebrows are drawn together but I can’t read his expression in the dim light. “Are you ready for us?”
I gulp and nod. Us. Just the thought fills me with excitement, trepidation. I can’t say I haven’t fantasized about it. But what will the reality be like? Can I handle all of them at once? What if anyone finds out? The press? Geesha?
Fuck it. It’s worth it. Or if it isn’t, I can’t resist.
“I need you to say it,” he instructs, shifting his weight from one foot to another, standing taller until his frame almost fills the doorway. His voice is low, rumbling, but not unkind. Masterful. “Tell me what you want, princess.”
I gulp again, willing my voice to sound even half as strong. Jeez, I can sound confident on stage, so I can do it now. “I am ready for you all. I want you all. Yes. Yes.”
I sit up in bed, chin raised, letting the silky sheets fall away from my body. I take a deep breath. The cool air hits my breasts, and I feel my nipples crinkle as they harden. Light flashes as Van comes through the door. Another blink as Cameron follows, head down but looking up through his eyelashes, almost shy. He rakes a hand through his dirty blond hair. Rhys is next, and with one movement he reaches back and pulls his soft blue sweatshirt over the top of his head, baring his muscled torso and the range of tattoos on his arms. He grins at me, standing proudly with a hip out, and winks. My heart leaps.
“God, you look beautiful, darling,” Rhys says. “You always do.”
This is it. My three men, my heroes, my protectors. My band.
Can a dream you never knew you had come true?
Chapter 1
Alyssa
Earlier
♫ All I ever wanted was for us to be together ♫
♫ Just trying to work things out ♫
♫ What you wanted was another pretty picture ♫
♫ Yeah, I’m just another girl you won’t write home about ♫
I’m sitting on the edge of my bed working on yet another one of my songs. I’m so used to uploading my original tracks to YouTube once a week that it just feels like second nature to me, even after working a twelve-hour shift waitressing at the diner today. And while I’m so exhausted my pick is barely putting enough pressure on the guitar strings to get the sound I want, I’m sailing through the fog in my brain, determined to come through the other side with something that’s going to make me proud.
I’m sure Taylor Swift, and shoot, even Paul McCartney have had days like today, where they were so wiped they wanted to just pass out and snooze until late in the afternoon without a care in the world. It’s been my dream ever since I graduated with a B.A. in Music to be one of the greatest songwriters ever, so I goad myself into playing my guitar with even more passion than before, until the sounds I’m dreaming of are finally resonating in my tiny bedroom.
By the time I’m halfway through getting the song down on my computer, there’s a loud knocking on my bedroom door. Sighing heavily, I trudge over to the doorway, my guitar still in my grip. I pull the knob while trying to arrange my features to hide my irritation. But as soon as my eyes lock on Marina’s, any frustration is replaced with a big smile spreading across my face.
Marina Williams has been my best friend since high school. She’s got pretty big dreams of her own—she wants to be a superstar actress out in L.A., despite the fact that we’re both stuck in this small town until further notice. She also used to work at the diner as a waitress until she found a better gig as a bartender on the other side of town, pulling in the kind of tips that I could only dream of. Although I have a feeling that the reason for Marina’s big tips have less to do with her drink-mixing skills and more to do with her fantastic figure and gorgeous green eyes.
“Is that a new song?” Marina says with a smile. “Because I like it already.”
“It’s new-ish,” I reply. “I’ve been working on the lyrics for it ever since I broke up with Tommy—”