Chronic loser Rebecca Alton is penniless, homeless, and sleeping on her sisterΠ²Πβ’s couch. She needs a job, fast, but in this economy finding one is easier said than done. When she accidentally walks into the wrong office and finds herself auditioning for the role of babysitter to the out-of-control
Exclusive Interview
β Scribed by Lore, Ava
- Book ID
- 108237638
- Publisher
- Brittle Divinity Press
- Year
- 2013
- Tongue
- English
- Weight
- 81 KB
- Category
- Fiction
No coin nor oath required. For personal study only.
β¦ Synopsis
Chronic loser Rebecca Alton is penniless, homeless, and sleeping on her sisterβs couch. She needs a job, fast, but in this economy finding one is easier said than done. When she accidentally walks into the wrong office and finds herself auditioning for the role of babysitter to the out-of-control members of the up and coming rock band The Lonely Kings of Lifeless Things, can she pull it off? And considering who her boss would beβthe bandβs bassist, manager, and undisputed king of bad attitudes Kent Hudsonβwould she even want the job? Rebecca isnβt sure. In fact, sheβs not sure of much in her life, except one thing: Kent wants her, she wants him back, and the underlying animal attraction between them makes her interview rough, in more ways than one!
Exclusive Interview is an 18,000 word novelette, and is the first in the Rock Arrangement series.
Excerpt:
On the outside I tried to project an air of calm and confidence, but on the inside I was shrieking at the top of my lungs. He'd seen steal the drinks. The jig was up. I was doomed. I would be arrested, held for theft of approximately three point three ounces of alcohol, not even enough to get properly toasted. You always hear about the people who get busted for less than half a joint in their car and you wonder why they just didn't throw it out the window when they were finished with it. Well, that was me. I was the idiot.
"It tastes the same either way," I told him. "But I don't have any money and you are stressing me out."
He tilted his head. His dark locks fell across his forehead, brushing against his strong, dark brows, bringing his blue-green eyes into further focus. "And you drink when you are stressed out?" he asked.
This was a trap. I could feel it. I set my jaw.
"Actually no," I told him. "I clean when I get stressed. But since there's nothing for me to clean on an airplane, I thought I'd try to calm my nerves instead."
His eyes widened slightly at this. "You... clean?" he asked me incredulously.
"Yes, I clean. You know, scrub floors, dust, tidy up. I'm very good at it. That's why I was applying for a housekeeping position. I'm stressed, I might as well get paid for what I'm going to be doing anyway."
"What a strange way to get your stress out," he said. He lowered his voice, so that only I could hear it through the buzzing of the engines. "Me, I like to screw." And his eyes narrowed as he leaned in. His hips butted against mine and I felt, through his trousers, the hot bulge of an erection...
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