Zeli’s signature pop diva sound and image are nothing short of magical—literally. Her fame comes with hidden costs, a curse that could ruin her voice forever.
Aspiring indie musician, Justin MacKenzie, is determined to kick it to the top of the Rampion Records’ Summer Number One professional vs. amateur singing competition.
The favorite to beat in the annual televised contest is none other than the label’s smoking hot superstar, Zeli, whose crazy extensions flow the length of a football field. Those ridiculous extensions, coupled with her bubblegum brand of pop, are an affront to everything Justin loves about music until a stolen kiss blazes into a romantic encounter.
Once inside Zeli’s world, Justin discovers things are not as they seem. In their quest to allow the real Zeli, to step into the spotlight, the pair must confront the mysterious force behind the dazzle of Rampion’s success. If these star-crossed lovers can’t rally their own magic to defeat the darkness, they will lose everything—including each other.
—
EXCERPT:
On the way to wardrobe, to prep for his B.A.S.E. jumping exhibition in Zeli’s platinum record celebration concert, Justin Time stumbles into the pop diva’s dressing room by mistake…
Shades of pink twilight swallow us. Zeli rests lips against the rim of her cup, drowning a sob with tea.
Man, that tea smells sweet. I’d like to tickle my vocal cords with it. What did Grant Gothel call it? Ramp-up tea? Justin wants to ramp up. I stand and take a greedy sniff.
Zeli catches sight of me and leaps to her feet. She screeches like I’m slinging an axe.
I trip over the bottom of the costume rack and fly forward, finding balance a hot second before I plow into her. “Whoa, sweetness. I’m not here to mess with you.”
She clutches her head. “Hair thief!” She raises a pair of fists with intent to cause damage. “Closer and I’ll make your ribs crack.”
“Stop screaming or that cute face will go blue.”
Zeli circles her fists, searching for an in to deck me. “Don’t lay a finger on my extensions.”
“I want no part of that crazy hair mess.” I shake my head. “Keep your freak show, I’ve got no intention–” Taking a step back, I fan an arm down her body. “To finger even a single sweet tress.”
She’s delusional. No thief could bust Rampion security to get up here. Then again, when you’ve got millions glued to your head, imagining creepers in the dark is not so out there.
She zips behind the table, snarling. “You won’t get a piece of this either, fool.”
Hugging her body, she curls into a ball worthy of an armadillo. I’m not stupid enough to take advantage of our alone time, but that doesn’t prevent a Zeli lip lock from ticking onto my mental playlist. Her face pops out of the Z-ball as if she’s plugged into my thoughts.
She raises her hands. “Hands here. Raise them up high where I can see.”
I brush bangs aside, the portrait of casual. “You’re safe, damsel, get a hold of your cool.” I jerk my chin her way. “Cut the innocent act. It’s clear to me. No way a fast track, rock chick hasn’t known–” I throw her an air kiss. “Tune-piping Romeo love of her own.”
She stretches to her full height, not enough to hit the five-foot mark, and plants hands on hips. “Jacklick.”
After flashing my best stink-eye, I head for the hallway before her insults bait me into action I’ll regret. The smack of her hand against the table makes me jump.
“You’re leaving?”
I flick my wrist. “You ain’t nothing but a wrong turn.” I almost clear the doorway of the twilight room when she giggles. I whip around. “What? I’m not the big bad wolf anymore?”
She abandons her table fortress and rakes a finger up and down my wingsuit. The silver bag glides after her. “Big bads don’t wear bananas.”
I cringe.
Realization dawns in her eyes. “Oh, you’re one of my lucky stars.” She claps.
“What?”
“Seven lucky stars, falling from the sky for my concert?”
“Maybe.”
“If not, you’re rocking a wack look.” Zeli smiles, easy with me now that she’s defined my place in her kingdom.
Don’t count me out. I can rock a threat, babe. I’m tempted to grab her and plant a kiss on that laughing mouth. I feel my face flush Zeli pink. Stealing a taste of Z-lip is not worth summoning Gothel and screwing my chances at the Summer Number One audition.
To my surprise, she strolls over and dances a finger across my shoulder. “What’s it like to B.A.S.E. jump? Terrifying or Heaven?”
The touch renders me momentarily mute.
Her fingers pop off my shoulder like I’m a hot stove. “I don’t want anyone jumping for me to be afraid.”
The slightest sensation lingers from our contact. Does rock chick Zeli honestly care how Justin MacKenzie feels flying off her tower? Is this chick nice? For reals, nice? Heavenly tea breath wafts from her lips. An urge for a softer kind of kissing sneaks up on me. Kisses that whisper, not shout.
I match her finger dance and dab a touch on her shoulder close enough to feel the warm skin of her neck. “Nice of you to care.” If I slide my hand around the back of her neck, pull her in…
Author Bio:
Leslie O’Sullivan is the author of Rockin' Fairy Tales, an adult romance series of Shakespeare/fairy tale mash ups set against the backdrop of Hollywood’s music scene. Coming soon is her Behind the Scenes contemporary romance series that peeks into the off-camera secrets of a wildly popular television drama. She’s a UCLA Bruin with a BA and MFA from their Department of Theater where she also taught for years on the design faculty. Her tenure in the world of television was as the assistant art director on “It’s Garry Shandling’s Show.” Leslie loves to indulge her fangirl side each year at San Diego Comic Con.
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1 comments:
Sounds like a great read!
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