Title: ALWAYS YOU

Author: Roxie Noir

Genre: Contemporary Romance

I’ve been broken since the day I was born, with a past full of ugly secrets and a brother doing life in prison.   Not that you’d know it if you read the tabloids. According to them I’m the rock-solid guitarist for the biggest band in the world. I’m the dependable one. The steady one. The anchor.   They don’t know the truth. No one knows who I am underneath, once the music is over and the lights are off.   No one but Darcy.   She’s my best friend. She’s my fucking savior, my light in the dark, beautiful as hell and talented as fuck and every bit as broken as me.   And I fucking yearn for her. I have for years. I see the way she looks at me, what’s behind her eyes.   I know what she thinks about alone, in the dark, because how could I not know.   It’s getting worse. Every second, every heartbeat, every moment we spend together and every secret we share makes me want her more. Even though I know that one kiss, one night could ruin everything we have, I need her.   And for Darcy, I’ll risk it all.

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If there’s a heaven, it probably feels a little like this, playing in perfect time with three other people while thousands more cheer for you. Suddenly everything that we went through to get here is worth it: ironing out a guitar and bass licks in the studio at three in the morning, heading home as the sun rose. Arguing over a chord progression for three hours, practicing the tricky parts until I got blisters. We end the first song and slide into the second without even stopping for a beat, just like we practiced. Darcy’s bass swoops low and then rises, the only sound for a couple of bars, and I look over at her. She’s fucking mesmerizing. Every single fucking time, all eyes on her for these few bars, and even though I know she doesn’t like being the center of attention it’s glorious when she is. The curve of her neck and she tosses her dark hair back, the line of her shoulders in her dress, her fingers on the bass. And her legs in that short dress, covered in ripped fishnets, wearing boots. Jesus Christ, man. One hundred percent pure rock chick, loud and careless and brash and don’t-give-a-fuck as hell. I’m gonna be honest: Darcy’s crazy hot all the time, but right now is when she’s the hottest. Right now’s the time when I wonder again what would happen if I finally stopped pretending that I don’t want her and just fucking did something about it. But then I join back into the song and the wild, nearly-uncontrollable urge fades back to its normal level, always there but under control. As I do she glances over at me, a little smile on her face like we’ve got some kind of secret, just the two of us, even across the space and the noise of the stage. I smile back because we do. We’ve got lots of secrets. Darcy knows things about me that no one else does, and vice-versa. We finish that song, and the momentum only builds. The crowd gets louder, stompier, and we move again into the third song without stopping. This one’s slower, not exactly a ballad but as hard as the first two. I’m already sweating under the stage lights, playing a little slower, a little softer. It’s a lull, a respite, a brief meditation from the madness. I let the air buzz around me and find this quiet place, my hands on autopilot for a moment. And then there’s a bang. It’s loud as hell, behind us and way overhead where there shouldn’t be a bang and I flinch, then whirl around wonderin what the fuck that was. Then there’s a second bang, the fizzle and flash of a lone firework. I keep playing on autopilot, but my stomach turns uneasily because Dirtshine doesn’t have fireworks. There shouldn’t be fucking unannounced pyrotechnics, I think, glancing toward the side of the stage. Is that left over from the band before us, or did someone fucking forget to tell— The bass line cuts out in a jumble. I jerk my head over. She’s on fire.  

Author Bio:

I love writing sexy, alpha men and the headstrong women they fall for. My weaknesses include: beards, whiskey, nice abs with treasure trails, sarcasm, cats, prowess in the kitchen, prowess in the bedroom, forearm tattoos, and gummi bears. I live in California with my very own sexy, bearded, whiskey-loving husband and two hell-raising cats.

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If you have the chance to go back in time, which era would want to be in and who would you want to meet?

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Ten Must Haves When Writing 

Ten things? Only ten?

Let me preface this post with a disclaimer. These are things I think are important. You might not. Though how anybody writes without a beverage of choice nearby, is beyond me. But, to each his own.  By-the-way, that was not the first thing.

From personal experience, because I didn't have them with my first book, critique partners and beta readers are fundamental for every writer at every stage of your writing. I’m convinced I’d have had much less rewriting with my first novel had I had critique partners.

A writing schedule is important too. How many hours a day or days a week can you commit to writing?

And, do you make sure to get that word count in before tootling over to Facebook or Twitter, which brings up my fourth thing; a time limit for marketing and social  media. Both will suck you dry, and what you really want to be doing is writing.

Though Pinterest is so much fun...

Okay, let’s switch to practical for a few minutes. A good chair. I’m only saying that because I've been sitting too long today and my tushy is getting sore. I know some of you write curled up on the couch or in an armchair or on the floor, but this gal needs her desk and computer which means an office chair. Oops, just slipped in a couple more and you didn't even notice.
Sly, huh? *Wink*

In my case, I need good blinds I can close because my writing desk is right in front of a window.  I have a fabulous view of my backyard, and I love watching the bird visiting my feeders, but the window faces west which means afternoon sun. And...my neighbor parades around naked in front of his upstairs windows all hours of the day.  Let’s just say, he does not inspire me to write romance, so, whoosh down goes the blind.
What am I up to? Seven?

I need sticky notes. At any given time, there are several plastered on the edges of my computer screen— I only have eight up right now. That’s a slow day for me. I jot notes to myself constantly while writing. I have my writing Bible, character questionnaires and several references books within arm’s reach too. My favorite is The 1811 Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue.

Shoot, I just went over the allotted ten.  Well, I’ll count critique partners and beta readers as one, so I’m good.  Just out of curiosity, what can’t you write without?

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Amidst murder and betrayal, destiny and hearts collide when scandal forces a nobleman and a  gypsy to marry in this Regency Romance.

Half Romani, half English noblewoman, Evangeline Caruthers is the last woman in England Ian Hamilton, the Viscount Warrick, could ever love—an immoral wanton responsible for his brother’s and father’s deaths. She thinks he’s a foul-tempered blackguard, who after setting out to cause her downfall, finds himself forced to marry her—snared in the trap of his own making.

When Vangie learns the marriage ceremony itself may have been a ruse, she flees to her gypsy relatives, declaring herself divorced from Ian under Romani law. He pursues her to the gypsy encampment, and when the handsome gypsy king offers to take Ian’s place in Vangie’s bed, jealousy stirs hot and dangerous.

At last, under a balmy starlit sky, Ian and Vangie breech the chasm separating them. Peril lurks though. Ian’s the last in his line, and his stepmother intends to dispose of the newlyweds so her daughter can inherit his estate. Only by trusting each other can they overcome scandal and murderous betrayal.

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About the Author

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Seventeen Magazine Summer Club author Amalie Howard grew up on a small Caribbean island where she spent most of her childhood with her nose buried in a book or being a tomboy running around barefoot, shimmying up mango trees and dreaming of adventure. 22 countries, surfing with sharks and several tattoos later, she has traded in bungee jumping in China for writing the adventures she imagines instead. She isn’t entirely convinced which takes more guts. She currently resides in New York with her husband and three children.

She is the author of The Aquarathi series from Harlequin TEEN (Waterfell and Oceanborn), The Almost Girl from Strange Chemistry, Alpha Goddess from Sky Pony Press, and Bloodspell from Langdon Street Press. She is represented by the Liza Royce Agency. Visit her at www.amaliehoward.com or on Twitter (@AmalieHoward).