No one can write musician / rockstar romances like A.L. Jackson, and I think it’s because deep down, she aspires to be a poet. She incorporates the music into the book like no one else can. In this book, though, a lot of the dialogue from Emily, the female main character, has a certain lyrical quality to it.
Now, was this my favorite A.L. Jackson book of all time? No. Was it still fucking incredible? Yes.
Carolina George is quickly becoming a household name, and has caught the attention of one of the biggest record labels out there. But the band’s lead singer, Emily, seems to almost be sabotaging the bands success and path to fame. She’s become increasingly distant from her friends and family, more depressed, and people think it’s all due to a broken heart. But there’s more that meets the eye.
Royce is the representative from the label that has been assigned to getting Carolina George to sign with the label, but his relationship with the label and his motives are not completely pure. He has his own agenda: revenge.
But as these two continue to spend more time together, they find the piece their missing in the other.
That maybe, somehow, we were two fragmented pieces that fit together.
Emily: I found Emily a little bit weak. Yes, I understand she’s been exposed to some horrible things and she’s had her heartbroken when she needed her partner the most. She fell a little bit too close to the “whiney” spectrum for me but it wasn’t intolerable. I wanted to feel her pain a bit more than just have her be indecisive about everything.
Royce: FUCKING ROYCE!!! My new book boyfriend for life! I love him so much.
The eyes of what had to be the most intriguingly beautiful man I’d ever seen were trained on me. Eyes so dark they were the color of onyx, though somehow, they glinted like cracked, black ice that held a seething fire within. Anger and fury raving in the depths.
Let’s Talk About (the) Sex, Baby!
This book has some hot scenes – but I think the first kiss was the hottest of it all. It was filled with angst, a hint of the forbidden, and full of passion. That set the tone for me for the entire damn book and it did not disappoint.
What I love about Jackson’s steaminess writing is she gives you just enough. Sometimes putting too much can take away from the story – but she seems to have figured out the formula to keep perverts like me happy, while appealing to the milder reader.
Again, no one can quite write like A.L. Jackson. All of her works are INTENTIONAL and they have a certain cadence to them that to me, feel exactly like music and lyrics.
My graze traced over chiseled muscle and sinister innuendo, the man a song written of scars and tragedy.