What was your favorite Olivia Cunning post over the past week?
Showing posts with label Olivia Cunning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Olivia Cunning. Show all posts
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Backstage Pass Giveaway!
What was your favorite Olivia Cunning post over the past week?
Friday, October 29, 2010
Future Sinners
What’s next for Sinners? Sed Lionheart’s story, Rock Hard, will be released in April 2011. You learn in Backstage Pass that Sed was once engaged to Jessica Chase, a law student who broke off their engagement for reasons unknown. At least, that’s Sed story. Jessica’s side of the story is a little different.I recently got my ARC cover and this is the blurb from the back cover.
An ultimatum can break your heart....
Every night lead singer, Sed Lionheart, whips thousands of women into a frenzy with his voice alone. But the stage is the only place Sed feels any passion since he lost Jessica...
If you’re not willing to break all the rules...
It shattered her heart, but law student Jessica broke off her engagement to Sed, determined to be successful on her own terms. But no other man can ever hold a candle to Sed...
Then a chance meeting and tortuously close quarters lead to uncontrollable flares of passion and rediscovery of their unique penchant for public encounters. Now, in addition to the risk of mutual heartbreak every time they get together, they’re in danger of truly scandalous public exposure...
Here’s a tiny tease of the first page of Rock Hard. Note: This first chapter takes place two years before Backstage Pass. Beware of Sed’s ego at first. It doesn’t stick around for long.
From Chapter 1 of Rock Hard
Jessica was the happiest woman on the planet. Life could not have been more perfect. She snuck up behind Sed, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed his ear. “Hey, baby, guess what?”
“What?” he said absently.
She peeked around his shoulder to find him scowling at a stack of invoices.
“I got in!”
His scowl deepened in confusion. “You got in? Got in what?”
She pulled the acceptance letter from her back pocket and snapped it open in front of him. This would wipe the scowl from his gorgeous face.
While he read, she gazed at her recently acquired engagement ring. After all her hard work in school, her dreams were finally becoming a reality. Having a hunky, rising-star, rock vocalist as her fiancé was the frosting on her Pop Tart.
“Law school?” His deep voice rumbled through his back against her chest.
“Yeah. Isn’t it great? I’m so excited. We have to go out and celebrate.” She kissed his temple and squeezed him. “I’ll go put on a skirt. We’ll go sightseeing. I want you to make love to me on a crowded street. Maybe Rodeo Drive. Or Hollywood Boulevard. What do you think?”
“I can’t afford to put you through law school, Jess. I can’t even afford to fix the transmission in the fuckin’ tour bus.” He tossed her acceptance letter on his stack of invoices.
“Don’t worry.” She pulled out a second letter. Her financial aid award letter. “Scholarships, grants, waivers. I only have to come up with three thousand dollars a semester.”
Sed shoved his chair away from the table and went to open the banged-up refrigerator. Finding it empty, he closed it again. “I don’t have three thousand dollars, Jessica.”
He didn’t get it. This was her dream. He was encouraged to pursue his. Why wasn’t she? Even though Sed’s band, Sinners, would probably never make it as big their front man envisioned, she believed in him. Was it so much to ask that he believed in her, too?
“I don’t expect you to pay for it, Sed. I’ll find a way. I just want you to be happy for me. Congratulate me. Something. This is the most important thing that’s ever happened to me.”
He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. For a second, she was struck by how attractive he was. Those broad shoulders, bulging muscles, narrow hips. Black hair, blue eyes. A face that belonged in movies. And then, he opened his mouth.
© Olivia Cunning, Sourcebooks Casablanca, 2010
And Sed says something that sends Jessica packing.
The third book in the series features bassist, Jace Seymour. The fourth book is about drummer, Eric Sticks. The last book centers around rhythm guitarist, Trey Mills. To learn more about the entire series, visit my website: http://www.oliviacunning.com/ .
I’ll warn you, Sinners are strangely addictive. You can’t pick just one, so don’t put yourself through that tough decision. Love them all. They’re a close knit group. They’ll understand.
Has anyone ever given you an ultimatum? How did you respond?
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
The Write Encouragement
When I was a small child, my mother read to me every night. Those moments were very special to me. It was the time of day when I got my mom all to myself. I begged her to read me another story and another until she’d read every golden book in my tiny collection. I know that love of reading gave birth to my love of writing. Certain personality traits and events in my life nurtured that squalling infant into the insatiable beast it is today.
I’ve always had an overactive imagination. Not the kind that imagines gray, spindly arms with open wounds extending from beneath the bed skirt to grab your ankles when you try to find the bathroom in the dark. Well, yeah, that kind too, but my imagination is even more bizarre. It makes up people. People that seem real to me. Maybe it’s just schizophrenia. Instead of talking to them in a loud voice while I walk down the street, I write stories about them. I heard somewhere that intelligent, imaginative children often invent an imaginary friend. Friend? Only one? I had seven of them. When I was three. Since then I’ve invented hundreds.
As a child, I did more daydreaming than writing. I’d make up characters and scenarios in my head, but I never wrote them down. It honestly never occurred to me that I should. The writing bug didn’t bite me until I was in junior high school. I distinctly remember being asked to write the ending to some short story. I don’t recall what the story was. I do remember that there were two male lead characters and their constant bickering wedged a riff in a small town, which led to major upset, chaos, and tragedy. I think it was set in the colonial times.
At the end of the original story, the two men were trapped under a log and had no choice but to talk about their differences and make nice, but it never said what happened to them or if they escaped the log. Anyway, most of the class wrote their ending so the lead characters were saved by the townspeople and lived happily ever after. Some had them lay there trapped until they starved to death. I had the townspeople form an angry mob and set the log on fire. (Wow, I was evil!) Looking back on that I’m not sure why my English teacher thought it was the greatest thing ever, but she raved about that story and read it aloud to the entire class. All of her classes, actually. Even classes I wasn’t in. She then passed it around to all the English teachers and they started harassing me to join the journalism club. I never joined. Writing wasn’t my thing. I still remember how embarrassed I was to hear my words read aloud to an audience of bored eighth graders. They thought the fire was cool, though!
I must have been secretly pleased by that incident because after that I started writing. Secretly. No one knew about my hobby. I didn’t consider it a career choice. Just fun! Other teachers encouraged me to write, too. In high school. In college. Even in graduate school. So what did I major in? Science.
Around the same time that I started writing for fun, I discovered romance novels. I loved reading them. Still do. I guess it only makes sense that I’d eventually write them. I love that even more. My favorite parts? The passionate kisses, tender caresses, and the fiery sex scenes. That’s probably why I write those parts in abundance. :-)
Has a teacher (or someone else) ever encouraged you to explore strengths you didn’t know you had?
I’ve always had an overactive imagination. Not the kind that imagines gray, spindly arms with open wounds extending from beneath the bed skirt to grab your ankles when you try to find the bathroom in the dark. Well, yeah, that kind too, but my imagination is even more bizarre. It makes up people. People that seem real to me. Maybe it’s just schizophrenia. Instead of talking to them in a loud voice while I walk down the street, I write stories about them. I heard somewhere that intelligent, imaginative children often invent an imaginary friend. Friend? Only one? I had seven of them. When I was three. Since then I’ve invented hundreds.
As a child, I did more daydreaming than writing. I’d make up characters and scenarios in my head, but I never wrote them down. It honestly never occurred to me that I should. The writing bug didn’t bite me until I was in junior high school. I distinctly remember being asked to write the ending to some short story. I don’t recall what the story was. I do remember that there were two male lead characters and their constant bickering wedged a riff in a small town, which led to major upset, chaos, and tragedy. I think it was set in the colonial times.
At the end of the original story, the two men were trapped under a log and had no choice but to talk about their differences and make nice, but it never said what happened to them or if they escaped the log. Anyway, most of the class wrote their ending so the lead characters were saved by the townspeople and lived happily ever after. Some had them lay there trapped until they starved to death. I had the townspeople form an angry mob and set the log on fire. (Wow, I was evil!) Looking back on that I’m not sure why my English teacher thought it was the greatest thing ever, but she raved about that story and read it aloud to the entire class. All of her classes, actually. Even classes I wasn’t in. She then passed it around to all the English teachers and they started harassing me to join the journalism club. I never joined. Writing wasn’t my thing. I still remember how embarrassed I was to hear my words read aloud to an audience of bored eighth graders. They thought the fire was cool, though!
I must have been secretly pleased by that incident because after that I started writing. Secretly. No one knew about my hobby. I didn’t consider it a career choice. Just fun! Other teachers encouraged me to write, too. In high school. In college. Even in graduate school. So what did I major in? Science.
Around the same time that I started writing for fun, I discovered romance novels. I loved reading them. Still do. I guess it only makes sense that I’d eventually write them. I love that even more. My favorite parts? The passionate kisses, tender caresses, and the fiery sex scenes. That’s probably why I write those parts in abundance. :-)
Has a teacher (or someone else) ever encouraged you to explore strengths you didn’t know you had?
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Exclusive Backstage Pass Excerpt
You can read the first chapter of Backstage Pass on my blog at this link: http://oliviacunning.wordpress.com/backstage-pass-chapter-one/ . I decided to share part of Chapter Two here, as it introduces the members of the band. It also gives us a glimpse of the hero, Brian, at his most charming. NOT!
From Chapter Two of Backstage Pass
Brian flushed the toilet and leaned against the stall door. He pressed the back of his wrist against his mouth and swallowed several times to fight his nausea.
No good.
He rushed forward and vomited into the toilet again. One day he would learn the limit of his alcohol tolerance. Apparently, today wasn’t the day.
“Dude, do you need me to hold your hair for you?” Eric called from outside the stall. He snickered.
“Fuck you,” Brian gasped, and threw up again.
“That’s a lot of perfectly good beer you’re wasting.”
“If you want it, come get it.”
Brian leaned against the cool, metal partition and flushed the toilet with his foot. He stood there for a moment and finally decided he felt well enough come out of the stall.
Eric looked at him hopefully. “Better?”
Brian nodded slightly.
“You’ve gotta stop letting chicks get to you.”
Tell him something he didn’t know.
Brian moved to the sink and rinsed his mouth with water several times before glancing in the mirror. Bloodshot eyes. Pale and waxy skin. He ran a hand over his slack face. “God, I look like shit.”
“I don’t notice any difference.”
Brian held up the three centermost fingers of his right hand.
“Read between the lines, asshole.”
Eric looked more puzzled than usual. “I never learned to read.”
“Here, let me help you.” Brian bent his ring finger and index finger down, leaving his middle finger extended. “Do you know sign language?”
“Nope. Sorry.” Eric punched him in the arm, thumbed his nose, and punched him again. Brian knew he’d feel those in the morning. Eric never held back in his blows.
“You ready to go back? You sure made an ass of yourself in front of that classy babe.”
“Thanks for the reminder.” Luckily, Brian probably wouldn’t remember any of it tomorrow.
“Come on. Let’s go.”
“What’s your rush?” Brian asked.
“How often do you get to hang out with a sophisticated sexpot like her?”
“Besides last night when I boned your mom?”
“Dude, if I had a mom, I might take offense.”
Brian scowled. Why had he said that? Being drunk was no excuse. “Sorry, man. I didn’t mean…” He rubbed his face vigorously with both hands. “Fuck.”
“If we don’t hurry back, Sed will be all over that sweet piece of ass.”
Brian splashed some cool water on his face. “Yeah, so what’s new?” Sed was all over every sweet piece of ass.
“It’s totally unfair. Sed gets all the pussy.”
All of them did fine with that. Couldn’t complain. Actually, it would do Brian good to lay off the pussy for a while. “We all get plenty.”
“But Sed gets all the good pussy. This is Certified Grade A pussy we’re talking about, Be-Rye. He’s probably already got her on her back with her ankles around his neck.” He tilted his head back and did his best chick-getting-laid-by-Sed impression. “Oh Sed. Yes. Yes. Sed. Ohhhh!”
Brian rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You’re an ass, Eric. You know that?”
“I’d like a piece of ass. I do know that. Hurry the fuck up or I’m going back without you.”
Brian dried his face on a paper towel and headed for the bathroom exit. “All right then, let’s go get you some Certified Grade A pussy.” He clapped Eric on the back, walking without any assistance now. Eric had no chance with Myrna if Sed had his sights on her. But hey, a guy could dream.
When they reached the table, Brian found Myrna sitting demurely next to Sed. All her clothes were still in place. Sed’s hand wasn’t up her skirt. They weren’t even making out. In fact, they were talking and laughing. Even Jace, who said fewer than five words in the average day, chatted quietly with the Certified Grade A Sex Professor. When Brian’s shadow crossed her face, Myrna glanced up at him and smiled brightly. She had a great smile, flashing perfect, white teeth between soft, kissable lips.
“Are you feeling better?” She looked him over with genuine concern.
Don’t do that, he thought. I’m still trying to get over what’s-herface. Angie. Yeah. I’m trying to get over Angie.
Brian glanced at Sed, who avoided his accusatory glare by finding Jace uncommonly interesting.
Angie… Brian’s heart panged unpleasantly and he clenched his fist.
That fucking slut.
“Yeah, I feel a little better,” he said to Myrna.
“He blew chunks,” Eric found necessary to inform everyone.
Myrna patted the seat next to her, which apparently signaled Eric to shove Brian out of the way so he could sit next to her. She laughed and hugged Eric’s arm. “Thanks for taking care of Brian.”
Eric beamed. “Hey, no problem. That’s what friends are for.”
Fuckhead.
Brian took a seat next to Trey, who lounged on the bench across from Myrna with a lollipop stick protruding from his mouth.
Trey had to be the only guy on earth who could make sucking on a lollipop look cool. He’d given up smoking a few months ago, but still needed something in his mouth at all times. His dentist made a killing.
“So are you really a fan of ours?” Eric asked Myrna.
“Yeah, for years. Even before you made it really big. I use snippets of your guitar music in my classes to discuss male sensu…” She glanced at Brian, her eyes widening as if she’d been caught doing something wrong.
She never finished the thought, because Jace decided now was a good time to break his regular silence. “She even knows all of our names.”
Looking relieved about the subject change, she pointed to each of them in turn. “Eric Sticks−drums. Three bass drums, fourteen cymbals. He does it with perfect rhythm.”
“Every time,” he said, tapping the table with his palms.
“Sedric Lionheart. Lead vocals. The sound of his voice makes the ladies cream their panties.”
Sed leaned closer to her and said in his signature, baritone growl,” Yours included? I could sing a few bars, if you like.”
“That’s entirely unnecessary.”
“Ah, you’re killing me, Myr.”
She grinned deviously. Brian wondered what he’d missed while he’d been worshiping the porcelain god. Just like Sed to move in for the kill immediately.
She continued, “Jace Seymour. Bassist.” She paused, contemplating the newest member of their band.
“Hey, don’t I get a byline?” Jace complained.
Myrna leaned across Sed and beckoned Jace closer. She whispered something in his ear and he flushed to the roots of his bleached hair. “Seriously?” he sputtered.
She stared into his eyes and nodded. “Seriously.”
Now that was just wrong. What had she told him?
“Trey Mills. Rhythm guitarist. Dreamy green eyes to melt hearts. Nimble fingers to, well, get a lady’s thoughts going in all sorts of inappropriate directions.”
Trey winked and wriggled his fingers at her.
Her eyes moved to Brian. “Brian Sinclair.” She paused. Brian’s gaze focused on her pouty, pink lips. He wondered how many of her male students sat through her class with wood in their pants.
Captivated, he waited for her words. A slow smile spread across her lovely face. “A musical genius.”
No way! He didn’t get something sexy said about him? He might melt under the heat of her gaze, however. She wanted him. He’d been around enough women to know that look. Why had he drunk so much? He was in no condition to pull off any level of seduction.
© Olivia Cunning, Sourcebooks Casablanca, 2010
Or is he...? I’m not telling. You’ll have to read what happens next for yourself. The guys do make a bet that Brian will fail to get Myrna into bed. The guys are always making bets. They’re such guys, if you know what I mean.
What was the last bet you made?
From Chapter Two of Backstage Pass
Brian flushed the toilet and leaned against the stall door. He pressed the back of his wrist against his mouth and swallowed several times to fight his nausea.
No good.
He rushed forward and vomited into the toilet again. One day he would learn the limit of his alcohol tolerance. Apparently, today wasn’t the day.
“Dude, do you need me to hold your hair for you?” Eric called from outside the stall. He snickered.
“Fuck you,” Brian gasped, and threw up again.
“That’s a lot of perfectly good beer you’re wasting.”
“If you want it, come get it.”
Brian leaned against the cool, metal partition and flushed the toilet with his foot. He stood there for a moment and finally decided he felt well enough come out of the stall.
Eric looked at him hopefully. “Better?”
Brian nodded slightly.
“You’ve gotta stop letting chicks get to you.”
Tell him something he didn’t know.
Brian moved to the sink and rinsed his mouth with water several times before glancing in the mirror. Bloodshot eyes. Pale and waxy skin. He ran a hand over his slack face. “God, I look like shit.”
“I don’t notice any difference.”
Brian held up the three centermost fingers of his right hand.
“Read between the lines, asshole.”
Eric looked more puzzled than usual. “I never learned to read.”
“Here, let me help you.” Brian bent his ring finger and index finger down, leaving his middle finger extended. “Do you know sign language?”
“Nope. Sorry.” Eric punched him in the arm, thumbed his nose, and punched him again. Brian knew he’d feel those in the morning. Eric never held back in his blows.
“You ready to go back? You sure made an ass of yourself in front of that classy babe.”
“Thanks for the reminder.” Luckily, Brian probably wouldn’t remember any of it tomorrow.
“Come on. Let’s go.”
“What’s your rush?” Brian asked.
“How often do you get to hang out with a sophisticated sexpot like her?”
“Besides last night when I boned your mom?”
“Dude, if I had a mom, I might take offense.”
Brian scowled. Why had he said that? Being drunk was no excuse. “Sorry, man. I didn’t mean…” He rubbed his face vigorously with both hands. “Fuck.”
“If we don’t hurry back, Sed will be all over that sweet piece of ass.”
Brian splashed some cool water on his face. “Yeah, so what’s new?” Sed was all over every sweet piece of ass.
“It’s totally unfair. Sed gets all the pussy.”
All of them did fine with that. Couldn’t complain. Actually, it would do Brian good to lay off the pussy for a while. “We all get plenty.”
“But Sed gets all the good pussy. This is Certified Grade A pussy we’re talking about, Be-Rye. He’s probably already got her on her back with her ankles around his neck.” He tilted his head back and did his best chick-getting-laid-by-Sed impression. “Oh Sed. Yes. Yes. Sed. Ohhhh!”
Brian rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You’re an ass, Eric. You know that?”
“I’d like a piece of ass. I do know that. Hurry the fuck up or I’m going back without you.”
Brian dried his face on a paper towel and headed for the bathroom exit. “All right then, let’s go get you some Certified Grade A pussy.” He clapped Eric on the back, walking without any assistance now. Eric had no chance with Myrna if Sed had his sights on her. But hey, a guy could dream.
When they reached the table, Brian found Myrna sitting demurely next to Sed. All her clothes were still in place. Sed’s hand wasn’t up her skirt. They weren’t even making out. In fact, they were talking and laughing. Even Jace, who said fewer than five words in the average day, chatted quietly with the Certified Grade A Sex Professor. When Brian’s shadow crossed her face, Myrna glanced up at him and smiled brightly. She had a great smile, flashing perfect, white teeth between soft, kissable lips.
“Are you feeling better?” She looked him over with genuine concern.
Don’t do that, he thought. I’m still trying to get over what’s-herface. Angie. Yeah. I’m trying to get over Angie.
Brian glanced at Sed, who avoided his accusatory glare by finding Jace uncommonly interesting.
Angie… Brian’s heart panged unpleasantly and he clenched his fist.
That fucking slut.
“Yeah, I feel a little better,” he said to Myrna.
“He blew chunks,” Eric found necessary to inform everyone.
Myrna patted the seat next to her, which apparently signaled Eric to shove Brian out of the way so he could sit next to her. She laughed and hugged Eric’s arm. “Thanks for taking care of Brian.”
Eric beamed. “Hey, no problem. That’s what friends are for.”
Fuckhead.
Brian took a seat next to Trey, who lounged on the bench across from Myrna with a lollipop stick protruding from his mouth.
Trey had to be the only guy on earth who could make sucking on a lollipop look cool. He’d given up smoking a few months ago, but still needed something in his mouth at all times. His dentist made a killing.
“So are you really a fan of ours?” Eric asked Myrna.
“Yeah, for years. Even before you made it really big. I use snippets of your guitar music in my classes to discuss male sensu…” She glanced at Brian, her eyes widening as if she’d been caught doing something wrong.
She never finished the thought, because Jace decided now was a good time to break his regular silence. “She even knows all of our names.”
Looking relieved about the subject change, she pointed to each of them in turn. “Eric Sticks−drums. Three bass drums, fourteen cymbals. He does it with perfect rhythm.”
“Every time,” he said, tapping the table with his palms.
“Sedric Lionheart. Lead vocals. The sound of his voice makes the ladies cream their panties.”
Sed leaned closer to her and said in his signature, baritone growl,” Yours included? I could sing a few bars, if you like.”
“That’s entirely unnecessary.”
“Ah, you’re killing me, Myr.”
She grinned deviously. Brian wondered what he’d missed while he’d been worshiping the porcelain god. Just like Sed to move in for the kill immediately.
She continued, “Jace Seymour. Bassist.” She paused, contemplating the newest member of their band.
“Hey, don’t I get a byline?” Jace complained.
Myrna leaned across Sed and beckoned Jace closer. She whispered something in his ear and he flushed to the roots of his bleached hair. “Seriously?” he sputtered.
She stared into his eyes and nodded. “Seriously.”
Now that was just wrong. What had she told him?
“Trey Mills. Rhythm guitarist. Dreamy green eyes to melt hearts. Nimble fingers to, well, get a lady’s thoughts going in all sorts of inappropriate directions.”
Trey winked and wriggled his fingers at her.
Her eyes moved to Brian. “Brian Sinclair.” She paused. Brian’s gaze focused on her pouty, pink lips. He wondered how many of her male students sat through her class with wood in their pants.
Captivated, he waited for her words. A slow smile spread across her lovely face. “A musical genius.”
No way! He didn’t get something sexy said about him? He might melt under the heat of her gaze, however. She wanted him. He’d been around enough women to know that look. Why had he drunk so much? He was in no condition to pull off any level of seduction.
© Olivia Cunning, Sourcebooks Casablanca, 2010
Or is he...? I’m not telling. You’ll have to read what happens next for yourself. The guys do make a bet that Brian will fail to get Myrna into bed. The guys are always making bets. They’re such guys, if you know what I mean.
What was the last bet you made?
Monday, October 25, 2010
The Guitarist and the Professor
The lead characters in Backstage Pass, Brian Sinclair and Dr. Myrna Evans, join us today on Seriously Reviewed for an exclusive interview!
SR: We’re happy to have you both here this morning, would you care to introduce yourselves?
Myrna: I’m Doctor Myrna Evans—
Brian: You can call her Professor Sex. That’s what we call her.
Myrna: Brian!
Brian: What? It’s the truth, isn’t it?
Myrna: As I was trying to say, I’m Doctor Myrna Evans and I’m currently on tour with Sinners. I’m a human sexuality professor doing a research project on band groupie psychology. I’m getting fascinating results so far, but I’m still looking for research participants. That’s why I’m here today. To ask women to join my study. If you go into an insatiable frenzy of lust in the presence of rock stars—
Brian: Like you?
Myrna: You are trying to get yourself in trouble today, aren’t you?
Brian: I was hoping you’d keep me after class, professor.
Myrna: Keep on hoping, Sinclair. Are you going to introduce yourself or not?
Brian: Brian Sinclair, lead guitarist of Sinners. I’m currently on tour with my band to promote our last album. Hope to see you in the crowd. We always have a great time when we perform live.
Myrna: The guys put on an amazing show.
Brian: Myrna’s a closet groupie.
Myrna: Stop, Brian. I mean it.
SR: I’ve heard great things about Sinners’ concerts, Brian, and a few wild stories about what goes on backstage afterwards. Can you tell me when Sinners’ next album will be coming out?
Brian: I had a bit of dry patch in my composing for a while there, but thanks to Myrna, I’ve been writing a lot of new guitar music recently. As soon as Sinners takes a break from touring, we plan to get into the studio and record some tracks. The new stuff is fantastic. I can’t wait for the fans to hear it. If all goes according to plan, we should have a new album out next year.
SR: Awesome! But what do you mean ‘thanks to Myrna’? Is she a composer as well as a professor?
Brian: Not exactly. She just encourages my creativity. Often. She’s my muse. In order to spark that creativity, I have to be buried insi—
Myrna: Brian! This isn’t the place to bring that up.
Brian: I’m always up around you, Myr.
SR: Do I need to leave you two alone?
Myrna: No, he’s going to behave now.
Brian: No promises.
SR: Myrna how did you end up on tour with Sinners? A professor on tour with a rock band seems like an unusual situation.
Myrna: I came up with the idea for the groupie study at a Sinners concert. When the project got funded, I asked the guys if I could tag along with them while they were on tour. They agreed.
Brian: There was a little more to it than that.
SR: Did you know the band beforehand? Or did you randomly ask Sinners to participate because they’re known to have a lot of eager female fans?
Myrna: I had met them previously.
Brian: You might say that. She knew me. More than once.
Myrna: Do you want to ride back to the tour bus in the trunk of my car?
SR: Are you two seriously dating or something? You bicker like an old married couple.
Brian: You might say that.
Myrna: No, we’re not. Please, don’t encourage him.
Brian: She doesn’t want me.
Myrna: I never said that. You know I want you.
Brian: I think you should remind me.
SR: Umm, okay. I do think I need to leave you two alone. Would you mind not doing that on my desk, please?
Brian: Sorry. We’ve got to go. Like right now.
Myrna: Mmm-hmm.
SR: Thanks for answering my questions. Myrna will be outside behind the concert venue tonight interviewing groupies for her study. She’d appreciate your participation. If you tell her you learned about her study on Seriously Reviewed, she might be able to hook you up with a backstage pass. If you’re lucky, you can meet Brian and the other sexy guys of Sinners. Though I do think Brian might be taken.
SR: We’re happy to have you both here this morning, would you care to introduce yourselves?
Myrna: I’m Doctor Myrna Evans—
Brian: You can call her Professor Sex. That’s what we call her.
Myrna: Brian!
Brian: What? It’s the truth, isn’t it?
Myrna: As I was trying to say, I’m Doctor Myrna Evans and I’m currently on tour with Sinners. I’m a human sexuality professor doing a research project on band groupie psychology. I’m getting fascinating results so far, but I’m still looking for research participants. That’s why I’m here today. To ask women to join my study. If you go into an insatiable frenzy of lust in the presence of rock stars—
Brian: Like you?
Myrna: You are trying to get yourself in trouble today, aren’t you?
Brian: I was hoping you’d keep me after class, professor.
Myrna: Keep on hoping, Sinclair. Are you going to introduce yourself or not?
Brian: Brian Sinclair, lead guitarist of Sinners. I’m currently on tour with my band to promote our last album. Hope to see you in the crowd. We always have a great time when we perform live.
Myrna: The guys put on an amazing show.
Brian: Myrna’s a closet groupie.
Myrna: Stop, Brian. I mean it.
SR: I’ve heard great things about Sinners’ concerts, Brian, and a few wild stories about what goes on backstage afterwards. Can you tell me when Sinners’ next album will be coming out?
Brian: I had a bit of dry patch in my composing for a while there, but thanks to Myrna, I’ve been writing a lot of new guitar music recently. As soon as Sinners takes a break from touring, we plan to get into the studio and record some tracks. The new stuff is fantastic. I can’t wait for the fans to hear it. If all goes according to plan, we should have a new album out next year.
SR: Awesome! But what do you mean ‘thanks to Myrna’? Is she a composer as well as a professor?
Brian: Not exactly. She just encourages my creativity. Often. She’s my muse. In order to spark that creativity, I have to be buried insi—
Myrna: Brian! This isn’t the place to bring that up.
Brian: I’m always up around you, Myr.
SR: Do I need to leave you two alone?
Myrna: No, he’s going to behave now.
Brian: No promises.
SR: Myrna how did you end up on tour with Sinners? A professor on tour with a rock band seems like an unusual situation.
Myrna: I came up with the idea for the groupie study at a Sinners concert. When the project got funded, I asked the guys if I could tag along with them while they were on tour. They agreed.
Brian: There was a little more to it than that.
SR: Did you know the band beforehand? Or did you randomly ask Sinners to participate because they’re known to have a lot of eager female fans?
Myrna: I had met them previously.
Brian: You might say that. She knew me. More than once.
Myrna: Do you want to ride back to the tour bus in the trunk of my car?
SR: Are you two seriously dating or something? You bicker like an old married couple.
Brian: You might say that.
Myrna: No, we’re not. Please, don’t encourage him.
Brian: She doesn’t want me.
Myrna: I never said that. You know I want you.
Brian: I think you should remind me.
SR: Umm, okay. I do think I need to leave you two alone. Would you mind not doing that on my desk, please?
Brian: Sorry. We’ve got to go. Like right now.
Myrna: Mmm-hmm.
SR: Thanks for answering my questions. Myrna will be outside behind the concert venue tonight interviewing groupies for her study. She’d appreciate your participation. If you tell her you learned about her study on Seriously Reviewed, she might be able to hook you up with a backstage pass. If you’re lucky, you can meet Brian and the other sexy guys of Sinners. Though I do think Brian might be taken.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Your All Access Backstage Pass
Have you ever wondered what it would be like to date a rock star? Fall in love with one? Make love to one? Or have a rock star truly, madly, deeply in love with you? Maybe you’ve wanted to party with rock stars? Or go on tour with them to see what their lives are really like? Perhaps you want to be a rock star. To perform on stage with thousands of fans screaming your name. To pour your soul into your music and create songs that touch millions. I have. That’s why I wrote Backstage Pass.
FIVE STUNNING GUYS, ONE HOT WOMAN,
AND A FEVERISH ROMANCE...
For him, life is all music and no play...
When Brian Sinclair, lead songwriter and guitarist of the hottest metal band on the scene, loses his creative spark, it will take nights of downright sinful passion to release his pent-up genius...
She’s the one to call the tune...
When sexy psychologist Myrna Evans goes on tour with the Sinners, every boy in the band tries to seduce her. But Brian is the only one she wants to get her hands on...
Then the two lovers’ wildly shocking behavior sparks the whole band to new heights of glory... and sin...
About the Author
Combining her love for romantic fiction and rock ‘n roll, Olivia Cunning writes erotic romance centered around rock musicians. Raised on hard rock music from the cradle, she attended her first Styx concert at age six and fell instantly in love with live music. She's been known to travel over a thousand miles just to see a favorite band in concert. As a teen, she discovered her second love, romantic fiction—first, voraciously reading steamy romance novels and then penning her own. Growing up as the daughter of a career soldier, she's lived all over the country and overseas. She currently lives in Nebraska, but never stays in one place too long.
I’m excited to be here at Seriously Reviewed all week and look forward to hanging out with you! Snag your all access backstage pass and join me. My publisher, Sourcebooks, is sponsoring a great giveaway at the end of the week. Stay tuned!
Learn more about the book, the series and the author at http://www.oliviacunning.com/ . Learn more about the fictional rock band, Sinners, at http://www.sinnersontour.com/ .
Purchase Backstage Pass from Sourcebooks
Purchase from Amazon
FIVE STUNNING GUYS, ONE HOT WOMAN,
AND A FEVERISH ROMANCE...
For him, life is all music and no play...
When Brian Sinclair, lead songwriter and guitarist of the hottest metal band on the scene, loses his creative spark, it will take nights of downright sinful passion to release his pent-up genius...
She’s the one to call the tune...
When sexy psychologist Myrna Evans goes on tour with the Sinners, every boy in the band tries to seduce her. But Brian is the only one she wants to get her hands on...
Then the two lovers’ wildly shocking behavior sparks the whole band to new heights of glory... and sin...
About the Author
I’m excited to be here at Seriously Reviewed all week and look forward to hanging out with you! Snag your all access backstage pass and join me. My publisher, Sourcebooks, is sponsoring a great giveaway at the end of the week. Stay tuned!
Learn more about the book, the series and the author at http://www.oliviacunning.com/ . Learn more about the fictional rock band, Sinners, at http://www.sinnersontour.com/ .
Purchase Backstage Pass from Sourcebooks
Purchase from Amazon
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