OUT NOW, Lily Harlem's ROCK STARZ trilogy. Three short stories that will heat your ereader and get your heart beating to a super-sexy tune.
Rock band Manic Machines have taken over the globe with their funky, sassy tunes, yet these rock stars are all missing one thing in their lives - love. But you don't get to be as successful as they are without steely determination and off-the-scale passion, so when these musicians decide which girl they want, there's no escape and they'll go to any length to reach that high.
Each book is fine as a standalone read, but in order you'll get to enjoy each band member's journey to happily ever after. Please note, previously published with different cover art, the content remains the same.
Is it possible to lose one’s ability to orgasm? Nina has. Lately, her fun weekend hook-ups have been more ho-hum than hot damn! It doesn’t help that she has three flatmates and is forced to play loud music to mask the sounds of her lovemaking. Talk about distracting! Of course, there’s another reason Nina’s less than satisfied these days...she’s just having a hard time admitting it.
It’s a good thing she’s met Ian, then. Not content to be a weekend hook-up, Ian is set on giving Nina what she’s been missing while making her admit what she needs. His talented fingers—and other body parts—are up to the task. But Ian’s not admitting a few things himself. Turns out his fingers can do more than make Nina’s body sing.
When she discovers his secret, it’s time for both of them to face the music.
As Robbie Harding belts out hit song ‘Jenny’ to a packed Wembley Stadium, my heart tears, my mind spins and my insides heat to a lusty, pulsing boiling point.
Why me more than the other 90,000 screaming fans?
Because I’m Jenny—he’s singing about me.
The guy is sex on legs with a voice to match and has starred in all my hot dreams since the day boys became interesting and for three precious years, it was more than hot dreams. Turns out he wants me back in his life and his bed. How can I resist?
So with lots of naked, sweaty and downright dirty time to make up for, I wield my backstage pass, hunt him down and refuse to be starstruck by the boy next door. Seems Robbie agrees, as he insists on tuning in to my needs and rediscovering our rhythm in a very unusual bedroom.
Most women would think themselves eternally lucky to have a hot, sinfully sexy rock star giving them the serious come-on—so imagine how I felt to find not one but two giving me the eye! Phew! I was turning somersaults.
But of course this led to a massive and, quite honestly, unenviable dilemma. How the heck do you choose between two rock gods who want nothing more than to give you pleasure of the extremely intense variety?
Lucky for me these global superstars were brothers who knew just how to share the same toy—sorry, I mean woman. That left me free to take a break from managing the band and let their experienced, talented hands manage me.
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