Mike Owens is the devil. Sexy, snarky, and as lowdown as they come, he's one of the world's greatest guitarists and one of Portland's most notorious bad boys.
Jenny Turner is an angel. A preacher's daughter, she's a good girl with a great voice and a dream to hit it big in country music.
When these two opposites meet, the attraction is undeniable, but something's stopping the bad boy from pursuing what he desires most. Can this angel handle the truth behind her devil? Or will his secrets be too Lowdown and Lush?
This is the third book in a four book series. I will want to have all four translated. The books work very well together, with each book having a romance for one member of the band, but the band's future being an continuing storyline that keep readers buying through the final book. This book has nearly 200 five star ratings on Goodreads.
This book is written in the "New Adult" style using first person point of view and vernacular language. It also contains explicit sex, so if any of these things make you uncomfortable this might not be the appropriate project for you.
I HAVE my head buried between the blonde’s thighs when I hear the redhead whining.
“Baby, why don’t you give her a rest? I’ll take care of you better than she ever could.”
The blonde continues moaning as I lap my tongue up her center and debate whether I want to fuck her or not.
“Well,” I say as I come up for air and look behind me at the redhead, who’s lounging spread-eagle on the chaise lounge, “I can do two things at once, babe. Come on over here and show me what you got.”
Forty minutes and a few group orgasms later, I’m crashed out on the sofa in the living room of the hotel suite while the girls are sleeping it off on the king-sized bed. I lie bathed in the flickering light of the television, listening to the sounds of cars and music from the Dallas street outside. My skin itches and my head is throbbing, and as much as I wish it were from too much booze, it’s not.
I’ve been at this for weeks—an entire summer actually. And no matter how many women or how many times they blow me, fuck me, suck me, or just generally give my dick a big old workout, the agitation I have never leaves. It’s a constant, like some sort of wicked, unforgiving wetsuit wrapped around my body, slowly squeezing the life out of me.
