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Roxie’s got the odds stacked up against her and has no choice but to hold on and just ride it out through kidnappings, car chases, society parties and a wild night at the Haunted House.
Read an excerpt of Rock Chick Redemption now.
ROCK CHICK REDEMPTION
ROCK CHICK SERIES BOOK THREE
Love at First Sight
It’s happened to me twice, love at first sight.
The first time was Billy Flynn.
The second was Hank Nightingale.
Billy didn’t take and he broke my heart.
Hank, well Hank’s a heartbreaker, to be certain, but I wasn’t going to stick around long enough for him to do it to me. It wouldn’t be my choice, not sticking around, but that was what was going to happen all the same and probably for the best.
At least for Hank.
* * *
Billy and Hank are night and day, dark and light, bad and good.
Billy’s the former of all those. Hank’s the latter.
See, Billy’s a criminal. Hank’s a cop.
Billy looks like a young Robert Redford, but instead of boy-next-door charm he has a bit (okay a lot) of James Dean’sRebel without a Causedrifting through him.
I knew Billy well. I’d been with him for seven years, the last three of which I tried to break up with him and that didn’t take either.
Hank looks like no one I’d ever seen before. To put it simply, he’s beautiful. He’s tall with thick dark hair, whisky-colored eyes and the lean, well-muscled body of a linebacker.
Hank has a cause. Hank’s about justice.
And Hank has more cool in his pinkie finger at any given moment than Billy would have in a lifetime.
Don’t ask me how I know this because I only knew Hank for a few days. Though it started when I learned he liked Springsteen. Anyone who likes Springsteen, well, enough said.
* * *
A little about me.
For some bizarre reason my mom named me Roxanne Giselle Logan and everyone calls me Roxie. I have an older brother named Gilbert (we call him Gil because Gilbert is a shit name) and a younger sister named Esmerelda (we call her Mimi because Esmerelda is a shit name too). Needless to say, I lucked out in the sibling name stakes.
Dad let Mom name us. I think he did this so he could give her a hard time for the rest of her life. Dad and Mom love each other, a lot, and show it a lot (too much if you ask me). Growing up with your parents’ constant public displays of affection was kind of embarrassing. Regardless of this, they were always ribbing each other and arguing…but in a nice way.
* * *
I didn’t grow up thinking I was going to live essentially on the run (even though at first I didn’t know that) with a criminal boyfriend, no matter how cute he was.
I grew up thinking I’d have a great job where I could wear designer clothes, I’d make a shitload of money and I’d have dozens of peons kowtowing to my every whim.
Before I met Billy, I was on my way.
Don’t take that as me being screaming ambitious or anything. I partied through high school and college. I studied enough to make As and Bs (mostly Bs) but it was really all about beer, the occasional bottle of tequila and rock ’n’ roll. Dad said I was lucky I was a smart girl or I’d be fucked. Mom warned if I didn’t get smarter, I’d end up fucked. Though Mom didn’t use the F-word, I knew what she meant.
