Ten years ago Lush bassist Colin Douglas met the love of his life. Then she broke his heart. Now, in a small Texas town, in the midst of the breakup of his band, Colin has found Marsha, and he has no idea what to do with her.
Marsha O’Neill hasn’t had it easy. Since losing Colin nothing's gone right for this east Texas waitress—except for Sean, her six-year-old son. She’s worked hard to give Sean what he needs—the best of her. Then a hot bass player walks into her bar and she knows the world isn’t done screwing with her yet.
What happens when life gives you a second chance? Can you learn to trust again, live again, love again? Colin and Marsha are about to find out that second chances don’t come easy.
This is the fourth and final book in a four book series. The series has solid sell-through because while each book is a standalone romance for a different member of the band, the band's future provides an overarching storyline that keeps readers purchasing until this final book. This book has 150 five star ratings on Goodreads.
This book is written in the "New Adult" style using first person point of view and vernacular language. It contains explicit sex, so if this makes you uncomfortable this might not be the project for you.
“Who’s the bass player?” Someone once framed that and presented it to me as a gift. I laughed, let him laugh along as well, then the minute he walked out the door, I tossed the piece of crap in the garbage.
“Who’s the bass player?” “The fourth guy…what’s his name?” “What’s that funny-looking guitar called again?” “That guy over by the drummer.” And my personal all-time favorite: “No body fucks the bass player.”
It’s a fact that bass players are the least appealing members of any rock band. Oh, drummers are a close second, but in your traditional four-man setup, it’s always the bass player who is ignored. It’s been scientifically shown that the audience’s eyes focus on bass players exactly one-fourth as often as on lead singers and only half as often as on lead guitarists. If it’s a band with backup singers, audience eyes only ever fall on the bass player if he’s standing close enough to be in the same visual frame as another band member.
In case you haven’t figured it out—I’m a bass player. And no one knows my name, which really doesn’t bother me that much. I do wish they knew what a bass guitar is and that, without it, the music wouldn’t be the same, but do they have to know my name? Nah. Hardly anyone does, it’s no big deal.
