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264 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 27, 2013


But the hooks weren't what had Scott transfixed. That was the fault of the singer, who possessed a deep, gravelly but surprisingly melodious voice that had just enough growl to it in the lower registers that shivers ran up and down Scott's spine at the sound of it. It was a dirty voice, a smoky, sexy voice that promised all sorts of filthy things. It made heat curl low in Scott's belly, but he welcomed that feeling and didn't try to fight it. Lust was good for music. Lust and music went hand in hand, because lust was about feeling heat deep in your bones, and so was music.(…)

"This is meant to be, Scott. Can you feel it? I can feel it in my fucking bones."

"Jesus Christ," he said softly. "This isn't a band, it's a fucking circus."
"You can say that again," Ash said.

"I--I didn't know any of that."
"No, you wouldn't, would you? Because all you ever do is think the worst of me, don't you?" You did it then, and you're still doing it now. Did you ever fucking ask what happened?" Ash stepped toward him. "Even if you didn't want to talk to me, did you ever ring Dean and fucking ask him?"


"Hey, every rock band needs a good ballad."
Scott laughed. "Not this one."

"I'm still not very good with words."
That's all right. If it's your song, I don't need lyrics to know what you're saying, Scotty.
"I can barely even talk to you now, but…my heart is in that song. Tell me you can hear what it's trying to tell you." He closed his eyes again. "Please."
(…)
"It's your song, isn't it?" Ash said, tilting Scott's face up, brushing their lips together. "Of course I can hear it. It's muffled right now, but…I can hear it."