Blog Tour: Groupie (Rock-Hard Beautiful #1) by C.M. Stunich
Groupie by C.M. Stunich (Rock-Hard Beautiful, #1) Publication date: March 21st 2017 Genres: New Adult, Romance
“Can one of these five rockstars fill the hole in my heart? Or will I stay broken forever?”
Young, dumb, and broke.
That’s what started everything. With five dollars in her pocket, and everything she owns stuffed in the back of her car, Lilith Goode’s life is over. Done. Destroyed.
Ten words. One text. That’s what it took to change the whole world.
A crumpled concert ticket. A chance encounter. That’s what it takes to start all over again.
Five rockstars. One girl. Six dark hearts, six withered souls. But can one broken person really put another back together again?
(Lilith Meets Ransom Riggs, The Bassist)
Silent tears trickle down my cheeks as I stand alone in a crowd of thousands, just one lone redheaded girl with nothing and no one left to lose.
“Hey there, sweetheart,” a soft velvety voice says from beside me. I glance over to find another roadie—this one wearing a black hoodie thrown over his head—leaning against the wall next to me. One of his boots—a pair of dark purple Docs—rests propped against the wall as he glances over at me. Even though we're standing close enough to kiss, I can't tell what color his eyes are. They just look black in the dim lights. “Don't cry. It's not all bad.”
“How would you know?” I ask. I mean to snap at him, but I don't have the energy. My voice comes out breathy, low, and tasting of tears. I can feel the salt on my already dry mouth. This guy I don't even know reaches out and runs his thumb over my lower lip. “My dad died today,” I tell him and he drops his hand suddenly. “I've been missing him for a long time, but the only thing that separated us was distance. How am I supposed to deal with missing him when it's life and death that are between us?”
“My mom died last year,” he tells me, digging out a cigarette and lighting up, even though I'm pretty sure it's illegal to smoke in here. This guy with his quiet, careful voice doesn't seem to care. “Some guy broke into her house, raped her and shot her in the face.”
That voice … it quivers and thrums with barely suppressed rage.
“How did yours die?”
“Cancer,” I whisper, and I can't decide which story is worse—his or mine. But it's not a competition, and it doesn't matter. I breathe out and lean my head against the wall, closing my eyes tight against a new rush of tears. This guy's story doesn't make me feel better; it makes me feel worse.
“Stay and watch the show, okay? I know it doesn't seem like much, but it might help.” His voice is back to being slow and sensual, unhurried. This is a gentle man tempered like steel in the hellfire of reality. He was born and raised sweet and gentle; the world has hardened him. I don't know how I know that or even if I'm completely full of shit, but it feels true when I think it.
“Does it help you? Music, I mean?” I ask as he reaches up and pushes dark hair off of his brow.
“It's the only thing that does.”
C.M. Stunich is a self-admitted bibliophile with a love for exotic teas and a whole host of characters who live full time inside the strange, swirling vortex of her thoughts. Some folks might call this crazy, but Caitlin Morgan doesn’t mind – especially considering she has to write biographies in the third person. Oh, and half the host of characters in her head are searing hot bad boys with dirty mouths and skillful hands (among other things). If being crazy means hanging out with them everyday, C.M. has decided to have herself committed. She hates tapioca pudding, loves to binge on cheesy horror movies, and is a slave to many cats. When she’s not vacuuming fur off of her couch, C.M. can be found with her nose buried in a book or her eyes glued to a computer screen. She’s the author of over thirty novels – romance, new adult, fantasy, and young adult included. Please, come and join her inside her crazy. There’s a heck of a lot to do there. Oh, and Caitlin loves to chat (incessantly), so feel free to e-mail her, send her a Facebook message, or put up smoke signals. She’s already looking forward to it.