Manaconda
Series: Hammered #1
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Authors: Taryn Elliott & Cari Quinn
Release Date: January 19, 2016
Rainbow Rage Publishing
My name is Hunter Jordan, lead singer of Hammered and no, I didn’t name my cock Manaconda.
Rolling Stone did.
On the front cover of their damn magazine.
I still haven’t lived it down. And now our record label wants to maximize the frenzy.
So, I have a brand new PR person–Kennedy McManus.
And she’s making me insane.
I don’t know whether to ignore her, yell at her, or push her up against the wall and kiss her smart mouth shut.
BEYOND OBLIVION – A Rockstar Romance full of sexy fun set within the world of our Lost in Oblivion series! You never know who you’ll see show up in the books.
**** Warning: book does end on a cliffhanger ****
“Maybe we should go back.”I shook my head. “Maybe we can sneak around. Seems like there wouldn’t be any fans back here.”
“Famous last words,” she muttered.
I strode out, gravel crunching under my boots.
“You know, I’m not a huge fan of this dragging me around like a child.”
I turned back to her, dragging her into my body. “Nothing child-like about you, Kenny.” I bent down to her, our noses touching. “I just want a little alone time with you.”
A loud engine started up.
“There’s an elevator back there.” She pointed with her thumb. “I bet we could do a lot of things in your room, my room—whatever.” She rose on her toes until our lips were a breath apart. “You can give that whole seven thing a go.” She dragged her nail over my bottom lip. “I don’t believe you’ll make it to seven, but I’m willing to let you try.”
“I—”
“Oh, my God, that’s Hunter!”
The hiss of hydraulics and stomp of many feet did not bode well.
I closed my eyes. “Shit.”
“What?”
“Please don’t be what I think it is.”
“What?”
A trio of people in black shirts with our new album on the front were standing in front of a huge bus. “Can you run in those things?”
She looked affronted. “I can do anything in heels.”
“I hope so.”
A woman in her twenties pointed our way. “Is that him?” she shrieked.
“Fan club.”
“What?”
“This is where the fan club bus is parked.”
“They should be at dinner. Why aren’t they at dinner?” Kenny asked with rising panic.
“Guess it’s over.” I sprinted to the door we’d just come out of. “Son of a bitch.” I twisted the handle but nothing. “It must have locked after us.”
She slapped the keypad. “Ya think?”
“Not helping.” I darted a look past the bus, along with the line of at least seventy people lined up to board. Definitely couldn’t go that way.
“They’ll eat you alive.”
“No kidding.”
Three women broke off from the crowd and headed our way. As soon as they did, twenty more followed. I dragged Kenny with me to the front of the bus and around the side. The bus driver looked down at us and shook his head.
No help there.
The people that had boarded the bus were pointing at us as we ran to the other end. I shot by another line of cars and zig-zagged around another bus and saw a familiar logo. “Thank God.”
“Where did he go?” Came shouts that were way too close.
“Where are we going?” she hissed.
“My bus.”
“Your bus?”
I dragged her behind me as I ducked behind a black truck we used for our equipment. It has been a stripped down stage, but we still had a lot of instruments between Keys’s pianos, the entire percussion set up that Wyatt used, all the guitars, amps, and digital network we used—we needed a truck no matter what.
“New plan.” I unlatched the back of the rig and lifted the rolling door. “Get in.”
“Are you freaking kidding me?”
I stared down at her. “Does it look like I’m kidding?”
She groaned. “I can’t get up there.”
I lifted her until her knee was on the base of the truck ledge. She scrambled in as the scraping of heels and running feet got closer.
“Move it, Kenny.”
Her skirt rode up as she dragged herself inside. I threw her a soft whistle. She turned back to me with murder in her eyes. I squashed down a laugh, rolling in after her, tugging the door down behind me with a bang.
“I hate you.”
I just smiled into the dark.
Yeah, I had a pretty big cock, but that wasn’t all I was, goddamit.
I cleared my throat. “Could I get my sunglasses?”
The woman behind the counter flushed. “Sorry. What number did you leave it under?”
“Eleven.” Inches. For my cock.
Manaconda was exactly the kind of sexy, fluffy and humorous interlude that I needed in my reading. Admittedly, I was looking forward to a full standalone, but considering that the conclusion will be released on January 26 for free, it lessens the sting considerably. As for the book? Well I read it in one sitting, so what does that tell you?
Thanks to a Rolling Stone cover that every rockstar dreams about gracing the cover of, Hunter Jordan is famous for a whole lot than being the lead singer of Hammered. His…uhem…quite large appendage…seems to be all anyone can talk about thanks to the unfortunate bunching of his jeans and revealing his male ‘gift’ to the entire world. But Hunter isn’t exactly happy about it. He’s more than his cock, dammit. Even if it is a VERY impressive one.
Kennedy McManus is the band’s new PR that’s set to work specifically with him after the cover imploded on magazine stands everywhere. Sparks fly between them immediately and it doesn’t take long at all for things to really get rolling…
Now usually an insta-lust like this doesn’t work for me. But something about the one here just did it for me. I bought it; hook, line and sinker. It was just too delicious not to. It’s fluffy in a guilty pleasure read sort of way and it just worked.
And when these two get together? Holy ovary CUMbustion!
Something had to break.
My only quibble is that I wished it would have been a longer standalone, but that’s because I’m a self professed cliffy avoider. True story. These authors are the only ones that can even pull that off with me and only because I love every single thing they write. Even with the cliffy, I gobbled this up like the starved smut addict that I am and loved every sinfully sexy page of it. Now I’m looking forward to the conclusion and luckily I don’t have to wait long at all.
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