Contemporary Romance
Stand Alone
Designer: Q Designs
Scheduled to release: October 17, 2017
PURCHASE HERE:
Amazon US → http://amzn.to/2yuyH85
Amazon UK → http://amzn.to/2yLEitp
Amazon CA → http://amzn.to/2wUVIPC
Amazon AU→ http://amzn.to/2gjHrcr
Amazon UK → http://amzn.to/2yLEitp
Amazon CA → http://amzn.to/2wUVIPC
Amazon AU→ http://amzn.to/2gjHrcr
Paperback UK: http://amzn.to/2ygO17S
Paperback US: http://amzn.to/2wSsOj4
Music . . . the heart’s greatest librarian.
The average song is three and a half minutes long; those three and a half minutes could lead to a slow blink, a glimpse of the past, or catapult the soul into heart-shattering nostalgia.
At the height of my career, I had the life I wanted, the life I’d always envisioned. I’d found my tempo, my rhythm. Then I received a phone call that left me off key.
You see, my favorite songs had a way of playing simultaneously. I was in love with one man’s beats and another’s lyrics. But when it came to the soundtrack of a life, how could anyone choose a favorite song? So, to erase any doubt, I ditched my first-class ticket and decided to take a drive, fixed on the rearview.
Two days.
One playlist.
And the long road home to the man who was waiting for me.
5 Stars
Review by Jen Skewes
Drive was absolutely brilliant, phenomenal, heart wrenching
and by far Kate Stewart's best book to date. I laughed, I cried, and I swooned.
There were moments where my heart broke (maybe more than once), moments where
my heart was caught in my throat and at one point I had no idea how this story
would end. I felt EVERYTHING with this book. The love, the passion, the
intensity of the story, the heartbreak, the ups and downs and so much more. It
was freakin’ fantastic!!!
Stella wants to pursue her dreams of being a music
journalist. Music has always been a big
part of her life since she was a child.
She moves in with her sister and her sister’s boyfriend. Along the way, while she is trying to not
only find herself but also make something of her life, she meets two men who
are so different in many ways. But they
both own a piece of her heart. Is it
possible to love two men? Absolutely!! But for Stella she loved both men in two
different ways. They were both amazing
men who loved her completely. But while
she did love the both of them, her heart truly and wholly belonged to only one
man.
I am not really a fan of love triangles, but this is Kate
Stewart so there was no way I would pass up the chance to read it. I don’t want to say too much about either
one of them, but will say that Ms. Stewart had this amazing ability of making
me love both men. Honestly though, I am
not sure if this felt like a love triangle to me, because throughout the book for
me personally, there was only one man for Stella.. The person she finds her happily ever after
with is the man who is her soul mate.
The man who from the moment they met you could feel the love and passion
between them. There were scenes where I
swear in that moment the love, the passion and the intensity of it all, gave me
goose bumps because I felt it all. You
know those moments when you are reading a specific scene and at the end of it
you release the breath that you didn’t even know you were holding? Yep, that is what it felt while reading this
book. I loved every bit of angst, drama
and heartbreak that came my way. And in
the end Ms. Stewart pieced all the pieces of my heart back together again and
made me happy.
This book is by far one of my top reads this year. Kate Stewart completely blew me away. The writing itself was flawless, the way she
intertwined music into this book was brilliant.
Each chapter is the title of a song, a song that you can listen to as
you read, a song that has so much meaning to the story and that chapter.. It is one of the most beautiful and
breathtakingly fantastic love stories that I have read!!! I am not sure what else I can say except read
this book. If there is one book you read
of Kate’s, make it this one. Once you
start reading you will never want to stop.
Days later this book and these characters will still be on your
mind! Fantastic!!!
EXCERPT:
Breathe. Breathe. This is in the bag, Stella. You can do this, so do it.
I clicked on the camera and quickly glanced at my notes.
One minute.
Electricity shot through my veins and seeped through every pore, reminding me that this was it.
Thirty seconds.
I took a sip of water and set it beside my laptop as I waited.
Ten seconds.
A flicker of doubt processed for mere seconds before I wiped it away.
Five.
I expelled a stressed breath, clicked Go Live, and addressed the camera.
“Womanizer, bully, genius, recluse, and the world’s greatest MC. Even with all those labels, Phillip Preston, also known as Titan, is still a bit of an enigma. Despite the universe he’s constructed with storytelling lyrics, he’s always left it up to us to decipher his truth from his fiction. He burst onto the music scene fifteen years ago, an underdog in the belly of rap, with chaotic and desperate rhymes that resonated and pushed him into an unexpected level of stardom. With one hundred and eighty million records sold, he still holds his title as heavyweight and remains a household staple for his die-hard fans, collecting an army of new followers over the past two decades. I must admit, I was a bit intimidated when I sat down with him this past weekend in his Chicago fortress. I, like millions of others, am a huge fan of his genius. The simplicity of our surroundings in his home studio was shocking, to say the least. The feeling was a bit clinical and there were no platinum records on his walls, no personal photos, and there was no hint of the history he’d made as the world’s most notorious rap star. He sat in a leather chair next to his soundboard, water bottle in hand, and spoke about his love of rap, while subtly redirecting questions about his personal life—though we know he recently broke up with his long-time girlfriend, Jordan Wilson.”
My eyes nearly watered as I watched the live view box tick to a hundred thousand. I had a hundred thousand people watching my podcast in a matter of minutes. I took a deep breath.
“But it seemed my reputation had preceded me because when I sat down with the rap mogul, Phillip appeared ready for the firing squad. We dueled well as I asked the hard questions—the questions of a fan. Questions I know so many of his loyal listeners want answers to, and I think you’ll be surprised to hear his answers. So, without further ado, take a look at my exclusive with the man behind the myths. Feel free to form your own opinions, but above all, remember it’s the music that matters most.”
I linked my pre-recorded interview and watched the ticks explode as soon as his face hit the screen.
That was the moment my career peaked.
With pride, I watched my interview with the white whale, the Moby Dick of the music industry. Gorgeous, brilliant, and highly elusive, Phillip Preston was the hardest artist to get personal with in an interview. And I was the woman he reached out to, to break his silence about his road to success, his parents, his ex-wife, and finally—after some careful eggshell coaxing—he spoke about his recent relationship. He had delivered to me, on a silver platter, highly personal details about his life where so many other journalists had failed, and it was nothing short of miraculous.
It was my greatest accomplishment as a music journalist. I was flying, soaring as my phone began to blow up with message after message. I hadn’t told a soul, not a single person about my exclusive. I was high on adrenaline when the notifications began to ping on my phone. A hundred, two hundred messages, and then I saw the viewer ticks had jumped drastically to half a million. Half a million! I laughed out nervously and checked Phillip’s social media. He had just posted my podcast link to our interview. My jaw dropped. He had over eighty million followers on one forum alone.
And the viewer counts just kept rising. I had done it. I gasped when the ticks went past a million.
A million people were watching my podcast.
A million people were watching my podcast!
“AHHHHHH!” I screamed to no one as I looked around the vacant room. I raised both hands in the air when the ticks rolled past two million. “Oh my GOD!” I shot up from the desk, my eyes full of incredulous water.
I’d never had more than a million views. Ever. And those took months to accrue. It was the greatest career high of my life. I looked back down at my phone, anxious to talk to someone, anyone. Lexi’s middle finger popped up on the screen, and I couldn’t resist answering her call.
“AHHHHHHHH!” I screamed into the phone..
“Stella?”
“Yes! Is it good? You think I asked the right questions? I edited for like nine hours.”
“What?”
“What do you mean, what? Titan’s interview.”
“You interviewed Titan?”
A small amount of my excitement dispersed. “Yours was the wrong call to answer.”
“You fucking interviewed Titan?”
“Yes. I wanted to surprise everyone.”
“And you didn’t bring me?”
“Sorry. I’ll feel guilty later.”
“Yeah.” Her voice dropped. I heard a toilet flush. “Yeah, Stella, that’s so cool.” Another toilet flushed.
“Where are you?”
“I’m in the bathroom at the Marquee.”
“Okay. Well, I’m buzzing right now, woman. Like, literally, my phone is exploding. Five million hits, Lexi. Five million!”
“I’m so happy for you, Stella.”
I frowned. “Yeah, with that amazing monotone, I can tell.”
“I’m so sorry.” And then her voice broke. My best friend doesn’t cry. Ever.
“Oh, shit. What’s up?”
“I’ll call you back, okay? I don’t want to ruin this.”
“You aren’t ruining anything. You couldn’t ruin this. I promise. I’ll be high for days. So, tell me. Why are you in the bathroom?”
“I’m on a blind date. He took me to a wedding.”
“Okay. You need an excuse? That’s not like you. You’re ballsy. Just give him your usual, it’s not me, it’s you.” I chuckled because she’d used it in front of me on a bass player with a cowlick and halitosis.
“Stella.”
I knew that tone. That tone was the bearer of bad fucking news.
“What? Say it.”
“It’s his wedding.”
I eyed the clock while I zipped my suitcase. I had an hour and a half before my flight. I was cutting it close. “Whose wedding?”
“Stella.”
“I know my name. Damn, who—” Realization struck and my heart met the floor. I stayed mute while she rambled on nervously.
“What are the odds? What are the goddamn odds? I don’t know what to do. Do you want me to leave? There’s no handbook for this. Did you even want to know this? That he’s married? I can’t believe I just watched him get married! Who in the hell ends up at their best friend’s ex-boyfriend’s wedding? I couldn’t not tell you.” She sniffed as the toilets repeatedly flushed around her.
“Stella, please say something.”
I pressed the sting back. “I’m alright, of course. I’m fine. Why are you crying?”
“I don’t know.” She sniffed. “Ben called me last night, and things are just so fucked up, and today this shit happens, and I know you’re happy. I know you are. But . . . I mean, this is—”
I put my hand up as if she could see it. “Don’t tell me anything else, okay? I’m good.” I looked at my reflection in the mirror from the bed into the adjacent bathroom. Nothing had changed. I wasn’t leaking. I was fine. “I’m okay. I’m glad you told me. I have to leave for the airport now, or I’ll miss my flight.” A slew of questions was on the tip of my tongue. Did he look happy? Was she beautiful? And more questions I hated myself for that Lexi would never be able to answer. Still, my head and heart refused to keep those questions bottled.
Was she prettier than me? Did he look at her the same way? Did he propose to her with half his heart? Did he think of me when he did it? Was any part of him thinking of me now? Was I in his dreams the way he drifted through mine sometimes?
All my thoughts were selfish. All of them. And of all the thoughts I could have had that day, self-loathing was not the one I expected to nudge its way front and center. I forced myself to speak.
“Stay.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, of course. I’m fine.”
“This freaky shit always happens. Always with you.”
“I know.”
“It’s like karma or God or someone hates you. It’s so fucked.”
I laughed ironically, though inside my heart was pounding.
Silence passed over the line as we both waited for some sort of solution that wasn’t coming.
“Stella, God, I’m so sorry.”
“About what? Stop. You know I would have told you if the situation were reversed. I should go. Love you.”
“Love y—” I hung up the phone before she could finish, frozen in the middle of the hotel room.
Contact Kate- Email-authorkatestewart@gmail.com
Website Facebook Group Facebook Author Page Newsletter signup Twitter Instagram
I took a sip of water and set it beside my laptop as I waited.
Ten seconds.
A flicker of doubt processed for mere seconds before I wiped it away.
Five.
I expelled a stressed breath, clicked Go Live, and addressed the camera.
“Womanizer, bully, genius, recluse, and the world’s greatest MC. Even with all those labels, Phillip Preston, also known as Titan, is still a bit of an enigma. Despite the universe he’s constructed with storytelling lyrics, he’s always left it up to us to decipher his truth from his fiction. He burst onto the music scene fifteen years ago, an underdog in the belly of rap, with chaotic and desperate rhymes that resonated and pushed him into an unexpected level of stardom. With one hundred and eighty million records sold, he still holds his title as heavyweight and remains a household staple for his die-hard fans, collecting an army of new followers over the past two decades. I must admit, I was a bit intimidated when I sat down with him this past weekend in his Chicago fortress. I, like millions of others, am a huge fan of his genius. The simplicity of our surroundings in his home studio was shocking, to say the least. The feeling was a bit clinical and there were no platinum records on his walls, no personal photos, and there was no hint of the history he’d made as the world’s most notorious rap star. He sat in a leather chair next to his soundboard, water bottle in hand, and spoke about his love of rap, while subtly redirecting questions about his personal life—though we know he recently broke up with his long-time girlfriend, Jordan Wilson.”
My eyes nearly watered as I watched the live view box tick to a hundred thousand. I had a hundred thousand people watching my podcast in a matter of minutes. I took a deep breath.
“But it seemed my reputation had preceded me because when I sat down with the rap mogul, Phillip appeared ready for the firing squad. We dueled well as I asked the hard questions—the questions of a fan. Questions I know so many of his loyal listeners want answers to, and I think you’ll be surprised to hear his answers. So, without further ado, take a look at my exclusive with the man behind the myths. Feel free to form your own opinions, but above all, remember it’s the music that matters most.”
I linked my pre-recorded interview and watched the ticks explode as soon as his face hit the screen.
That was the moment my career peaked.
With pride, I watched my interview with the white whale, the Moby Dick of the music industry. Gorgeous, brilliant, and highly elusive, Phillip Preston was the hardest artist to get personal with in an interview. And I was the woman he reached out to, to break his silence about his road to success, his parents, his ex-wife, and finally—after some careful eggshell coaxing—he spoke about his recent relationship. He had delivered to me, on a silver platter, highly personal details about his life where so many other journalists had failed, and it was nothing short of miraculous.
It was my greatest accomplishment as a music journalist. I was flying, soaring as my phone began to blow up with message after message. I hadn’t told a soul, not a single person about my exclusive. I was high on adrenaline when the notifications began to ping on my phone. A hundred, two hundred messages, and then I saw the viewer ticks had jumped drastically to half a million. Half a million! I laughed out nervously and checked Phillip’s social media. He had just posted my podcast link to our interview. My jaw dropped. He had over eighty million followers on one forum alone.
And the viewer counts just kept rising. I had done it. I gasped when the ticks went past a million.
A million people were watching my podcast.
A million people were watching my podcast!
“AHHHHHH!” I screamed to no one as I looked around the vacant room. I raised both hands in the air when the ticks rolled past two million. “Oh my GOD!” I shot up from the desk, my eyes full of incredulous water.
I’d never had more than a million views. Ever. And those took months to accrue. It was the greatest career high of my life. I looked back down at my phone, anxious to talk to someone, anyone. Lexi’s middle finger popped up on the screen, and I couldn’t resist answering her call.
“AHHHHHHHH!” I screamed into the phone..
“Stella?”
“Yes! Is it good? You think I asked the right questions? I edited for like nine hours.”
“What?”
“What do you mean, what? Titan’s interview.”
“You interviewed Titan?”
A small amount of my excitement dispersed. “Yours was the wrong call to answer.”
“You fucking interviewed Titan?”
“Yes. I wanted to surprise everyone.”
“And you didn’t bring me?”
“Sorry. I’ll feel guilty later.”
“Yeah.” Her voice dropped. I heard a toilet flush. “Yeah, Stella, that’s so cool.” Another toilet flushed.
“Where are you?”
“I’m in the bathroom at the Marquee.”
“Okay. Well, I’m buzzing right now, woman. Like, literally, my phone is exploding. Five million hits, Lexi. Five million!”
“I’m so happy for you, Stella.”
I frowned. “Yeah, with that amazing monotone, I can tell.”
“I’m so sorry.” And then her voice broke. My best friend doesn’t cry. Ever.
“Oh, shit. What’s up?”
“I’ll call you back, okay? I don’t want to ruin this.”
“You aren’t ruining anything. You couldn’t ruin this. I promise. I’ll be high for days. So, tell me. Why are you in the bathroom?”
“I’m on a blind date. He took me to a wedding.”
“Okay. You need an excuse? That’s not like you. You’re ballsy. Just give him your usual, it’s not me, it’s you.” I chuckled because she’d used it in front of me on a bass player with a cowlick and halitosis.
“Stella.”
I knew that tone. That tone was the bearer of bad fucking news.
“What? Say it.”
“It’s his wedding.”
I eyed the clock while I zipped my suitcase. I had an hour and a half before my flight. I was cutting it close. “Whose wedding?”
“Stella.”
“I know my name. Damn, who—” Realization struck and my heart met the floor. I stayed mute while she rambled on nervously.
“What are the odds? What are the goddamn odds? I don’t know what to do. Do you want me to leave? There’s no handbook for this. Did you even want to know this? That he’s married? I can’t believe I just watched him get married! Who in the hell ends up at their best friend’s ex-boyfriend’s wedding? I couldn’t not tell you.” She sniffed as the toilets repeatedly flushed around her.
“Stella, please say something.”
I pressed the sting back. “I’m alright, of course. I’m fine. Why are you crying?”
“I don’t know.” She sniffed. “Ben called me last night, and things are just so fucked up, and today this shit happens, and I know you’re happy. I know you are. But . . . I mean, this is—”
I put my hand up as if she could see it. “Don’t tell me anything else, okay? I’m good.” I looked at my reflection in the mirror from the bed into the adjacent bathroom. Nothing had changed. I wasn’t leaking. I was fine. “I’m okay. I’m glad you told me. I have to leave for the airport now, or I’ll miss my flight.” A slew of questions was on the tip of my tongue. Did he look happy? Was she beautiful? And more questions I hated myself for that Lexi would never be able to answer. Still, my head and heart refused to keep those questions bottled.
Was she prettier than me? Did he look at her the same way? Did he propose to her with half his heart? Did he think of me when he did it? Was any part of him thinking of me now? Was I in his dreams the way he drifted through mine sometimes?
All my thoughts were selfish. All of them. And of all the thoughts I could have had that day, self-loathing was not the one I expected to nudge its way front and center. I forced myself to speak.
“Stay.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, of course. I’m fine.”
“This freaky shit always happens. Always with you.”
“I know.”
“It’s like karma or God or someone hates you. It’s so fucked.”
I laughed ironically, though inside my heart was pounding.
Silence passed over the line as we both waited for some sort of solution that wasn’t coming.
“Stella, God, I’m so sorry.”
“About what? Stop. You know I would have told you if the situation were reversed. I should go. Love you.”
“Love y—” I hung up the phone before she could finish, frozen in the middle of the hotel room.
About the Author:
Kate Stewart lives in Charleston, S.C. with her husband, Nick, and her naughty beagle, Sadie. A native of Dallas, Kate moved to Charleston three weeks after her first visit, dropping her career of 8 years, and declaring it her creative muse. Kate pens messy, sexy, angst-filled contemporary romance as well as romantic comedy and erotic suspense because it's what she loves as a reader. A lover of all things '80s and '90s, especially John Hughes films and rap, she dabbles a little in photography, can knit a simple stitch scarf for necessity only and does a horrible job of playing the ukulele. Aside from running a mile without collapsing, traveling is the only other must on her bucket list. On occasion, she does very well at vodka.
Contact Kate- Email-authorkatestewart@gmail.com
Website Facebook Group Facebook Author Page Newsletter signup Twitter Instagram
No comments:
Post a Comment