Sneak Peek Excerpt
Rage bubbles up inside me
full force.
“Now?” Melanie keeps asking
me.
I. Loathe. Him.
“Now?” she asks again.
I loathe him. He’s the only boy I’ve ever kissed. He took kisses that
meant everything to me and turned them into a joke of a fucking song. A song
that turns me into some sort of Eve, torturing and teasing him to sin. He is the sin. He is the penitence, the
hell, and the devil, all in one.
I reach into my bag, nicely
tucked under my poncho, and grab the first thing I find.
“Now,” I whisper.
Before Mackenna knows what
hit him, Melanie and I have sent three tomatoes and a couple of eggs flying
through the air.
The orchestra music isn’t
enough to drown out his muttered “fuck,” audible through the microphone.
His jaw clamps and he yanks
the mic down over his chin as he jerks his eyes around to find the source of
the attack. I feel delirious when I see the genuine anger on his face. I
squeal, “The rest!” and grab the remaining things we brought and just keep
throwing. Not only at him, but at anyone who tries to get in the way—like the
stupid dancers who rush to protect him. One of them makes a whimpering noise as
an egg hits her face, and Mackenna jerks her back by the arm so he can take the
hits himself, his furious eyes trying to find us in the crowd.
Then I hear Melanie shout,
“Hey! LET GO, asshole!”
My arms are yanked behind
me, and I’m suddenly shoved and pulled out of my place and down the aisle.
“Let go of us!” Melanie
cries, struggling as two burly guards drag us away. “If you don’t let go of me
right now, my boyfriend’s going to find your home and kill you in your sleep!”
The guard yanks me back
harder, and I catch my breath as pain rushes up my arm.
“Asshole,” I hiss, but I
don’t even bother to struggle. Melanie’s getting nowhere and I know it.
“She knows them! She knows the band! Who do
you think he was singing about just now, asshole?” Melanie kicks into the air.
“She’s Pandora! Let us fucking go.”
“You know Mr. Jones?” one
guard asks me.
“Mr. Jones!” I scoff. “Seriously! If
Mackenna’s a mister, I’m a unicorn!”
They seem to chuckle among
themselves as they lead us past more security, around the stage, and to a small
room in the back. One guy starts speaking into a radio as he unlocks the door.
Melanie struggles and tries
to kick out, but the enormity of what could happen starts settling on me, and I
grow quiet.
Holy. Shit. What have I done?
“You don’t have to look so
happy, dickface. My boyfriend will find your home too and kill you next!” she
tells the other guard.
They yank a door open and
shove us inside. I stumble as I take a step, fighting for some dignity as I
wiggle free of his grip. “Let go,” I grit, and he finally releases me.
The radio transmitter on
his hip emits a sound. A voice says something I can’t make out, but it sounds a
lot like cursing.
“Remove these,” one of the
guards commands, pointing at our ponchos.
I pry the plastic off my
body and Melanie does the same, then we watch helplessly as they strip us of
the bags we’d hidden underneath the ponchos.
Melanie groans when they
set our things on a table to the side. Cell phones. Two more tomatoes. Car
keys.
“Wow. You guys can’t take a
little joke now, can you?” Melanie asks them with a haughty little scowl.
I close my eyes and try to
quell the panic rising in me.
Fuuuuck. What was I thinking?
I haven’t done anything
this reckless in years.
And it felt good.
Also wrong. Very, very wrong.
But good. Great, in fact.
Hell, I can still picture
the pissed, disbelieving look on Mackenna’s face. It gave me intense pleasure.
Orgasmic pleasure. But now the intense feeling I’m experiencing is more along
the lines of paralyzing fear.
What if the guards call him
into the room to ask if he does, indeed, know me?
What if I have to stand
here in this small stuffy room and look at him from thisclose!
I feel sick to my stomach.
Later, Melanie’s going to want explanations. Big-time explanations; more than
what I’ve told her so far. She’s going to have to tell Greyson what happened,
and he’s going to want to know everything, because these stupid security guards
messed with his girl. I don’t even know if I can explain to her the kind of
past Mackenna and I share. January 22: the day I unfailingly get drunk and
don’t bother to even see the light of day—I’d sworn to myself I’d never discuss
that day. But Melanie and Greyson? They will want me to open my box of secrets.
Of me and Mackenna Jones.
Hot, wet mouths melding . .
.
Him, pushing into me,
stretching me, taking me, loving me . . .
Promises.
Lies.
Loss.
Hatred.
The kind of hatred that’s
only born of an intense, out-of-this-world love that went woefully wrong.
What am I going to say to
him if I see him?
What am I going to do?
Please god, don’t punish me
by making me look at him thisclose.
I pace and pray, pace and pray while
Melanie studies her nails, the wall, and me, sighing with the bored confidence
of someone who knows she’s getting out of here intact. If I see Mackenna, I
really doubt it'll be so easy. My stomach’s already in knots, and I’m having
the most awful urge to vomit right now.
The concert seems to last forever. One of
the guards comes and goes while the other opts to stand a few feet behind Melanie,
standing all military-like, as if waiting for something.
Oh god, please let that something not be
Mackenna.
I’m wearing off a layer of my boots’
soles when, a century later, the door swings open
and a chubby man in a suit and tie steps in. My blood pools in my feet from my
nervousness. Lionel Palmer, the band manager, also known as “Leo.” I saw his
face and interview in this morning’s
paper, but I have to say he looked much happier in that picture.
He glares at us—Melanie
glaring back, me standing motionless—and his hands make meaty fists at his
sides.
“Have you any idea what you
just did?” he grits out, chubby cheeks blazing red. “How long we could keep you
two cozy in a fucking lady prison? What kind of fucking fans are you?”
“We’re not fans,” Melanie
says.
The door swings open and
the twins, in all their male glory, join the melee. They look intimidating all
the time, but now—with their blond hair, odd-color eyes, and perfectly
pissed-off scowls—they’re a force to be reckoned with.
I can’t breathe.
“Who the fuck are these
bitches?” the one with the snake tattoo demands.
“I’m getting to that, Jax,”
Lionel says.
So the other one must be
Lexington. He charges forward and looks at me, eyebrow piercing and all, then
he looks at Melanie. He points his index finger, swinging it from her to me. “I
hope you two have a lot of money, because one of our dancers is injured. If
she’s screwed up for Madison Square Garden—”
“Don’t worry, Pandora,
Greyson will take care of this,” Melanie says easily.
“Pandora,” Lionel repeats
suddenly. He grows still, his eyes sliding back to me. “Your friend called you
Pandora. Why?”
“Because it’s my name?
Duh.”
I’m in the middle of
rolling my eyes when the door swings open and a figure fills the space. I don’t
think my heart is beating anymore. I feel like someone is strangling me and
punching me on the inside.
Mackenna.
A few feet away.
In the same room as me.
Bigger and manlier than
ever.
He kicks the door shut
behind him. He’s wearing aviators, so I can’t see his eyes, and ohmigod, I hate
him with a passion. I came here to hurt him, but I’m so overcome by my anger, I
can’t seem to do anything but stand here with my breath getting trapped in my
lungs, my heart squeezing in my chest, my body trembling as all my suppressed
anger bubbles up inside me.
He is tall and dark, and
the remains of a red gooey liquid trickle down his chest.
But what a perfect chest,
with its thin trail of hair that leads the way from his navel to his dick.
Tight leather pants mold to his bulging thighs. A bulging cock too. I swear
girls might think he sticks a loaf of bread down his pants, but I can assure
you that fucker is real. As huge as his fucking ego, and I remember it used to
get as hard as his fucking head.
Not everyone can pull off a
buzz cut, or a diamond stud earring, but he has a perfectly shaped head that
makes you want to curl your hands around it and trace the curves with your
lips. The diamond glints almost menacingly in his right ear, and when he takes
off the sunglasses with an angry jerk, I see his brilliant, furious silver
eyes, and I swear that it feels like coming home.
To a home that was wrecked,
and burned, and there’s nothing left, but it’s still your home.
How fucked up is that?
God, please let him not be
real. Let this be a nightmare. Let him be on the other corner of the world
while I hate him safely from my corner in Seattle.
“She’s fucking Pandora?” Lionel asks Mackenna.
When Mackenna’s hard jaw
only tightens, Lionel turns slowly around to study me. My brain is a tangle of
confusion because Mackenna is staring straight at me like he can’t believe I’m
standing here.
I can barely take his
steely gaze. I thought this night would give me closure. That I could make him
feel in front of his fans like I felt when he left: humiliated. Instead he
stands there, every inch the rock god, even with tomato puree on his chest. He
owns the room, carrying that unnamable X factor that nobody can pinpoint but
that he has in spades, that tells you he owns this room and everyone in it.
And that fact only serves
to piss me off further.
“Lionel,” he says in a low, warning tone.
Just one word makes Lionel
ease back. Now nothing stops Mackenna from staring straight at me.
My face burns as I remember
how I loved him. Deep, hard, completely.
Don’t think about that. You hate him now!
“Nice hair.” He shoves his
glasses into the belt loops of his pants.
His voice, oh god.
His eyes run down the
length of my hair, and Melanie offers, “I suggested she add a little spirit to
her hair, so at least she looks
happy.”
He doesn’t even look at
Melanie. He looks at me in the most intense way, specifically the pink strand
in my hair, waiting for me to answer. I loathe that pink strand, but not as
much as I loathe him.
“Nice tights,” I return,
and gesture to his leather pants. “How’d you get into them? From the top of a
building and with a pound of butter?”
I refuse to let his chuckle
move me, but I feel it run down my legs as he starts approaching. “No need to
use butter anymore. These pants are a part of me.” He holds my gaze helplessly
trapped. “Like you were a part of me once.”
He’s coming closer, and
every step affects me. My cheeks burn. The gall of him to remind me. I’m so
angry. Years of hurt simmer in me. Of loneliness and betrayal.
“Fuck you, Mackenna.”
“Already done, Pandora.”
PRE-ORDER AVAILABLE
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1Bfzsis
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1yia714
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/11X9CAG
iTunes: http://bit.ly/1ynQ9FV
Blurb
A ripped rock star with
attitude. An ex-girlfriend with a reckless plan.
Pandora assumed getting her heartbroken
by her bad boy ex could only happen once--until Mackenna Jones comes back to
town for the biggest concert of his career. They say girls are getting pregnant
just thinking about the Crack Bikini tour and it's destined to be a huge hit.
Oh, it'll be a hit alright--when Pandora
comes out swinging. She and her friend Melanie are determined to humiliate him
onstage. But when they're caught by security and her ex is summoned, Mackenna
decides not to press charges if she'll join him on tour and follow certain
conditions--rules designed to give him the upper hand and keep her in close
contact with him once again. Soon, the passion they once shared is reignited,
and no matter how much Pandora wants to hate him, her hard exterior starts to
crack.
And worse: Mackenna knows it, too. But he
hasn't uncovered all her secrets...
Series Reading Order
Real (bk 1)
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1CHl6sS
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1w35g8N
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1zT7J31
iTunes: http://bit.ly/1tHrTct
Mine (bk 2)
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1I2nbzy
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1tHrdns
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1zmq1cT
iTunes: http://bit.ly/1yhymBF
Remy (bk 3)
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1vOn8T2
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1w35lcN
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1ynVnBv
iTunes: http://bit.ly/1vlqhom
Rogue (bk 4)
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1vOnjh8
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1FOFfJy
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1wvpqI6
iTunes: http://bit.ly/12xnylU
Ripped (bk 5) 12/9
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1Bfzsi
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1yia714
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/11X9CAG
iTunes: http://bit.ly/1ynQ9FV
About the Author
Hey! I’m Katy Evans and I love family,
books, life, and love. I’m married with two children and three dogs and spend
my time baking, walking, writing, reading, and taking care of my family. Thank
you for spending your time with me and picking up my story. I hope you had an
amazing time with it, like I did. If you’d like to know more about books in
progress, look me up on the Internet, I’d love to hear from you!
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorKatyEvans
Email: authorkatyevans@gmail.com
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