Friday, February 2, 2018

Excerpt: Forbidden Song + Freebie Offer!

Today I've got a little excerpt for you from Brooklyn Ann's new contemporary release, Forbidden Song. Enjoy!

Oh! And scroll down to find out how you can get a FREE copy of the first book in this series, Kissing Viscious! :)






Forbidden Song by Brooklyn Ann
Publisher: Boroughs Publishing Group (January 11, 2018)
Series: Hearts of Metal, 5
Genre: Contemporary Romance


Womanizing rock star, Cliff Tracey represents everything that has been forbidden to Christine Mayne, which only makes him a greater temptation, especially since she discovers he’s so much more than he pretends to be.

BREAKING FREE 

After having one of the worst experiences a young teenager could endure at the hands of cruel musicians, Christine Mayne's rock star brother Quinn tried to lock her away from the world. She had to fight to live her life, go to college, get her master's and enter her PhD program. Now, she's determined to complete her research on group dynamics by touring with Bleeding Vengeance, even it means deceiving her brother and lying to the band's fabulous lead singer, Cliff Tracey.

Cliff Tracey hates being manipulated, lied to and deceived. He'd know, having gone through a string of exes who had done just that. When he thinks he's found a kindred spirit, and a beautiful babe to boot, imagine his surprise - and disappointment - when he learns she played him so she can tour with his band to complete her PhD. When he finds out why, he knows he's in double trouble because Quinn Mayne will kill anyone who touches his sister, and Cliff Tracey has all sorts of plans for Christine Mayne that involves more than either of them ever expected. 



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Forbidden Song Excerpt



Cliff opened the door and froze. Christine. She’d showered too. Her black and blue hair curled damply around her face and shoulders. The green dress had been switched out for tight black velvet pants and a corset top that he recognized as Kat’s. Her delicate fingers—long nails painted a sparkly blue—wrapped around the doorframe. 
“We need to talk.” 
Cliff shook his head, trying not to admire her curves hugged by that damn corset. “We have nothing to talk about.” 
He tried to close the door, but she stepped in further. “Yes, we do.” 
Women had tried barging into Cliff’s room before, and he’d had practice in shoving them out. But for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to shove Christine. He sighed and released the door. “Fine.” 
She marched into his room, shoulders straight with determination, and he wondered if those black velvet pants were as soft as they looked. When she turned to face him, the tremulous look in her eyes tightened his breath. 
“Look, I’m sorry that I tricked you into letting me come along on the tour, I really am. It’s just that—” 
“You’re a spoiled brat,” Cliff finished, grasping her shoulders. “You think that just because Quinn gives you anything you ask for, the rest of us will do the same.” 
She lifted her chin, glaring at him with fiery defiance. “Quinn suffocates me. He treats me like I’m a child and I’m sick of it. Almost everything I have is what he pays for. He holds my college tuition over my head to get me to do what he says. Wherever I go, he’s keeping tabs on me.” Her whole body trembled with pent-up frustration. She grasped his forearms with shaking hands and continued, “The whole point of this dissertation, of getting my PhD, is because I want to make something of myself. I want to be more than Quinn Mayne’s little sister. I want to have my own career, my own money, and my own identity aside from the one he’s trying to box me into.” 
Cliff stared at her in shock, not expecting this impassioned outburst. 
Her grip tightened on his arms. “Again, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you who I was. But it wasn’t just to get my way. I also liked the fact that you were talking to me like I was a regular person instead of treating me like a…like my brother’s property. You don’t know what that meant to me.” 
Looking down at her face, at the desperation in her eyes, her trembling lower lip, and her death grip on his arms, his heart tightened with sympathy. Maybe he’d been wrong about her. After all, Quinn Mayne was known to be an autocratic son of a bitch. It wasn’t too big of a leap to believe his sister hated it like everyone else. 
“All right,” he finally said, kneading her tense shoulders to try to soothe her. “I accept your apology.” 
“You will?” 
Her grip on his arms loosened, and she rubbed the skin where her fingers had dug in.  Tendrils of pleasure roiled through him at her touch. Awareness filled him at her closeness, their bodies only inches apart. He could feel her heat. 
“Yeah.” His voice came out hoarse. “But you need to get out of here.” 
Her brows drew together, that succulent lower lip pouting outward once more. “I was hoping to interview you for my research.” 
He shook his head, past all thought. Almost. His hands slid down her back as he pulled her closer. “You can’t burst into a guy’s hotel room looking like a temptress and expect him to be able to focus on your academic study.” 
She gasped, in a good way, and her hands moved from his arms to splay against his bare chest, scorching him with forbidden heat. “I see what you mean. You’re not exactly dressed for clinical objectivity either.” 
Unable to stop himself, he bent down just as she rose up. Their mouths met in a torrent of cataclysmic heat. 
Christine’s body melted against his, and he groaned at the softness of her lips. Her fingers tangled in his hair, drawing him closer, and she returned his kiss with a heady combination of hunger and innocence. When his tongue delved into her mouth, she jumped in surprise, bringing him out of the spell. Then…Cliff drew back and released her, trying to tamp down his raging hard-on. 
“Nope. This can’t happen. I don’t care if your brother’s a control freak, I don’t want him killing me.” That was what this problem was about, wasn’t it? 
Christine looked up at him, her green eyes dilated with lust, her breasts heaving with shallow pants. “O-okay. I don’t know why that happened anyway.” 
Cliff laughed, low and bitter. “I do.” He took her arm. “Come on. Let’s go down to the bar, and you can analyze me and forget this ever happened.” 
As he led her out of his room, he knew hell would freeze over first. Her kiss was burned in his memory forever.











Formerly an auto-mechanic, Brooklyn Ann thrives on writing romance featuring unconventional heroines and heroes who adore them. Author of historical paranormal romance in her critically acclaimed “Scandals with Bite” series, urban fantasy in the cult favorite, “Brides of Prophecy” novels, and the New Adult winner of the 2016 Reader’s Choice Award, “Hearts of Metal Series,” she provides love for the broken and strange. 


She lives in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho with her son, miscellaneous horror memorabilia, and a 1980 Datsun 210.


She can be found online at http://brooklynannauthor.com as well as on Twitter and Facebook.


For exclusive updates, sneak peeks, and giveaways, sign up for Brooklyn Ann’s Newsletter at http://​brooklynannauthor.com​




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Enjoy!



Until Next Time,

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