Title: Rock Her Hard: An Alpha Male Rockstar Romance
Series: Rock Her Series (#1)
Author: Alyson Hale
Release Date: March 15th, 2017
Genre: Rockstar/Contemporary Romance
★ SYNOPSIS ★
I'm a lone wolf, a lost cause. Pushing people away has become an art form for me. I was doing well at shutting down my heart until I met her. Now I'll risk everything I've built just to have her by my side.
I didn't come to Georgia looking for love...
When my band manager asked us to travel to the US on a personal errand, I never imagined I'd get caught up in a scheme to reunite a father with his estranged daughter. Our deal was I'd seduce her into coming on the road with us, and then he'd have a chance at winning her over and getting his family back. The only problem is it's become so much more than that...
Kyri Calloway is everything I didn't know was missing from my life: sweetness, softness, and plenty of sass. She's a fiesty Irish redhead with curves that go on forever, my ultimate fantasy...yet she won't stop running away from me. My girl is convinced I'm going to leave her heart in a million shattered pieces the way her father did, but what she doesn't know is I never plan to let her go.
I'm not finished with her. Not by a long shot.
And I won't stop chasing her until she's mine, completely, body and soul.
Forever.
NOTE: This 18+ novella is sexy, sweet, and full of sass, just like every perfect Southern Belle should be. Your heart is safe reading this book; there's no cheating, a protective alpha male, and a guaranteed HEA--no cliffhangers!
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KYRI
My shoulders are
hunched when I walk out of the bathroom of the pub, dreading my first day of
work. I’m very self-conscious about the way my strapless bra supports—or
rather, un-supports—my breasts. The girls are bouncing beyond control, but
there’s nothing I can do about it. My uniform shirt hangs off my shoulders. I
have no way of wearing a strapped bra without everyone seeing it.
I check in with
Stephen in the back, who doesn’t bother training me—he just immediately throws
me to the wolves. I’m given a pen, a pad, a menu, and a list of draft beers to
memorize, and a mere thirty minutes to prepare before my shift officially
begins. Sneaking off to the side, I sit down in a conference room off the
hallway to browse the menu before I have to go explain it to customers.
Luckily, I’ve been to this place several times with Alex, so it’s not too
terribly foreign to me, but I’m having trouble remembering some of the
specifics.
Using the pen and
pad, I jot down a cheat sheet of information for myself until I’m able to take
these things home and memorize them. The thing I’m having the most trouble with
is the beer menu. I’m more of a martini and margarita kind of girl. I don’t
like the taste of beer at all. Having to remember so many different types,
strengths, colors, and tastes of beer is enough to make my head spin without
having any alcohol in my system. I’m going to have to taste all of these so I
can advise the customers. I’m not gonna enjoy it, but I’ll have a much harder
time if I don’t.
When I’m finally
ready to face my hell of a first day, I hear loud, high-pitched giggling in the
hallway. I get up and open the door and find Ingrid and another girl—a thin,
tanned blonde girl—whispering to each other right in front of me. They startle
when I step up beside them.
“What’s going on?”
I tuck my notepad into the back pocket of my tan shorts and stick the pen in
the space between my ear and my hair.
Ingrid leans down
to whisper in my ear, grinning. “You’re never going to believe who just walked
in our front door.”
“Who?”
“Jace. Freakin’.
Hawthorne! And the whole band,” she squeals.
My heart slams to
a screeching halt in my chest. “What?”
“Filthy Bangers is
here. We’re going to have to serve them all drinks.”
My entire head
drains of blood. “You’re messing with me, right?”
“We’re not, I
swear!” The other girl shrieks with excitement, gripping Ingrid’s arm for dear
life.
“Okay, whatever.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. These girls really think I was born yesterday. I’ve
been a freshman in high school. I know the drill. The new kid gets hazed on the
first day. Whatever. They’re not going to fool me this easily.
“Kyri, seriously.
Look!” Ingrid points down the hallway to the front of the pub.
At first I don’t
see him, but then she pulls me in front of her, and I spot the Jace Hawthorne heading toward the bar—all six foot two inches
of him. My knees turn to jelly underneath me. He’s in a black collared shirt
with rolled up sleeves—showcasing his beautiful wall of tattoos on his left
forearm—and a pair of jeans that hugs his hips like they were custom tailored
to his body. His dark wavy hair is perfectly tousled as usual. Even from here,
I can hear his rich, velvety voice that sends chills running down my spine and
makes things clench down below. The sexy British accent magnifies the effect to
the point where I can actually feel my panties dampening.
It’s true. The
hottest rock singer on earth is here, getting a beer in our pub.
But why?
“What the hell are
they doing here?” I mutter. Even though Jace is my favorite, I have to admit
his bandmates are fucking studs, too. But I can’t imagine what force on earth
would drag them to a small Georgia town just outside Atlanta while they’re not
on tour.
“Ladies, what are
you doing huddled back here when we have important guests?” Stephen appears
behind us, agitated, and shoos us toward the dining area. “Go serve them, now,
before they leave without sampling our draft menu.”
“But I can’t serve
the Bangers!” Ingrid wails, and the other girl agrees with her. They both
tremble in their shorts. Funny, I figured they’d both be the aggressive type,
not the kind of people who shy away from the chance to serve hot, famous guys.
Pansies.
“I’ll do it,” I
volunteer, even though my heart is pounding in my throat from nerves. I don’t
remember half of the beers on the menu right now. Thank God I have my cheat
sheet stashed away in my pocket.
Stephen pushes me
forward, and I nearly lose my balance. My knees knock together…or rather,
squish together. This is one time I’m glad I have thunder thighs. Otherwise,
everyone in the pub could hear me shaking from nerves.
I walk around
behind the bar for the first time, taking a deep breath before I address the
band. My God. I’ve never felt so much testosterone in one ten-foot radius
before. It’s suffocating, yet exhilarating.
As I approach him,
Jace’s deep amber eyes lock with mine, and I nearly lose my composure. His raw
fire and tenacity is trained on me. The hunger in his eyes makes me think he
might want to devour me alive. A corner of his mouth pulls up in amusement.
Surprising me, he reaches his hand over the counter to shake my hand.
“Jace Hawthorne.
Nice to meet you, Kyri.”
“What?” As soon as
our hands meet, electricity pulses up my arm and tingles throughout my entire
body. Jace must have felt it too, because he jerks back a little, not letting
go of my hand. “How do you know my name?” I’m not even wearing a name tag yet.
“That’s my little
secret, sweetheart.” He grants me a wink, causing my heart to nearly flutter
right out of my chest. “I’ll have a local ale, please. Whatever you recommend.”
Fucking shit. He
would ask for a recommendation on my very first night.
Luckily, the
bartender, Pete, overheard us. He’s got a green mohawk, gauges, and multiple
piercings, but he also has very kind eyes and a smile that puts you at ease. He
pipes up over his shoulder as he’s refilling the beer fridge, “See The Stars is brewed an hour away in
Athens. You can’t beat it.”
Keeping his fierce
eyes trained on me, Jace responds, “Perfect. I’ll have the biggest mug you’ve
got.”
Suddenly losing my
ability to respond, I nod and move down to the next guy in the line—Eddie, the
bassist. They all end up telling me they want the same thing Jace is having, so
I take out four frosted mugs and have my first experience with filling up a
glass with beer. After seeing me struggle with one of the nozzles, Peter comes
over and holds the mug at an angle, showing me how to form a good foam on the
top without letting it overflow or not filling it enough. Once I’ve got four
beautiful mugs of See The Stars, I
turn around and find Jace glaring at me, then glancing suspiciously at Peter.
I immediately
start questioning myself on what I did wrong. Is there too much foam? Not
enough?
Crap. I can’t
handle this much stress. Maybe this isn’t the job for me after all.
“H-here you go.” I
manage to deliver their beers without incident and can’t help but watch Jace as
he takes a swig. The way his lips wrap around the rim of that mug and his
Adam’s apple pulls up and down as he swallows…God, he is just so perfect. He
has the face of an angel and the growl of a wolf in his voice. I could spend
all night staring at him.
“Can I get you any
a-appetizers?” I manage.
“Two orders of the
buffalo wings, sweetheart.” The guy on the far side away from Jace flashes a
winning pearly grin at me. I recognize him as Damien, the lead guitarist. Where
Jace’s stare was probing and laser-focused, Damien’s is sinful and impish. “If
you’ve got extra breasts, I’ll take
those too.”
Judging from the
heat rising up my neck, I’d estimate my cheeks are about the shade of hot
Mexican salsa right now. Unconsciously, I pull my arms up over my breasts,
which only makes my cleavage deeper and causes his tongue to flick over his
lips with hunger.
“Coming right up.”
Grateful for the excuse to book it out of there, I head back to the kitchen to
put in my very first food order.
Alyson Hale is a naughty little minx who lives in an undisclosed location in the American South. Her weaknesses are rock stars, cowboys, and billionaires. If your significant other gets laid after reading one of her books, she feels like she’s done her job right. Follow Aly if you love wall-of-muscle, well-endowed book boyfriends who make you weak at the knees!
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Piece of Work, an all-new sexy romance from Staci Hart, is LIVE! 
Staci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life -- a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can't forget that. She's also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She's been a wife, though she's certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She's also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she's been drinking whiskey.
From roots in Houston to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north, in Denver. They are new enough that snow is still magical. When she's not writing, she's reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics.
