In the second novel in bestselling author Caisey Quinn’s Neon Dreams series, a country rock band and its members embark on the rocky road to fame and find love along the way.
Dallas Lark is so close to achieving his dream of making it big in country music that he can taste it. Arriving in Nashville after signing with sexy, successful manager Mandy Lantram, his life goes from tragedy and turmoil to one lucky break after another—except it isn’t really luck because Dallas has sacrificed everything for his career, leaving behind his band, sister, best friend, and high school sweetheart, Robyn, in the pursuit of fame.
Robyn Breeland is a successful marketing coordinator and promotions specialist for a thriving liquor distributor out of Texas. She loves every aspect of her job: coming up with new ideas, traveling, hosting promotional parties and exclusive events—until it brings her face-to-face with the man who broke her heart, prompting her to erect a steel cage around it.
When their paths collide and they’re forced to work together, Dallas and Robyn realize that the old spark they thought they’d extinguished might still be a burning flame.
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About the Author:
Caisey Quinn lives in Birmingham, Alabama with her daughter and other assorted animals. She is the bestselling author of the Kylie Ryans series as well as several New Adult and Contemporary Romance novels featuring southern girls finding love in unexpected places. You can find her online at www.caiseyquinnwrites.com. She is represented by Kevan Lyon of the Marsal Lyon Literary Agency.
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“Tell me what you’ve sacrificed. I want to know,” Dallas says evenly, completely unfazed by my obvious psychotic break. “Because I know a thing or two about sacrifice myself. But I can tell you this much, I would never sacrifice my dignity and I sure as hell didn’t get where I am on my back or by putting anyone else on theirs.”
What the hell?
“Mandy. She’s my manager. Our relationship is strictly professional, and it will stay that way, regardless of what her intentions may or may not be.”
“Okay.” I don’t want to feel relieved. I shouldn’t care. But my tightly wound nerves loosen a fraction.
“Your turn,” he informs me, folding his muscular arms over his broad chest.
“My turn for what?”
“To tell me if you’re fucking Wade! If that’s how you got on this tour, I want you to end it. He’s a grade A piece of shit who doesn’t give a damn who he—”
Dallas doesn’t get to finish his sentence.
Because I slap him. Hard. So hard my hand is still stinging.
Our faces must be matching masks of shock and I see the replay in slow motion. I’ve never struck another human being in my entire life. And I just slapped the only man I’ve ever loved with everything I was worth.
“If you ever, ever, even think to insinuate that I got where I am on my back, I swear to God, Dallas Lark, I will make that seem like a love tap.”
I am so immensely infuriated that everything in my line of sight is tinged in red. But more than that, I’m hurt. Hurt that someone I once cared so much for, and still care about more than I’d like to admit, would think that of me. Stitched-up lacerations on my heart that were on their way to being pretty pink scars are opening wide and angry. He didn’t invite me here for pancakes to catch up or spend time with me or figure out how to work together or even attempt to make amends. Nope. He’s just jealous and arrogant and a raging asshole.
“I didn’t mean to insinuate that—”
“Get the hell away from me.” I whirl around and step right into a fresh puddle. Great. Wonderful.
“No,” Dallas says, pulling me toward him and catching me off guard. “I need you to hear me out.”
“What’s to hear? You’re an arrogant ass and I hate you.”
He gives me an infuriating smirk. “No you don’t. If that were true, you wouldn’t be this pissed.”
I struggle to find a reasonable argument to this so I say, “Fuck you, Dallas.”
“Yes, please. Come back to the hotel with me. The car service is already here.” I yank out of his grasp, causing a painful friction between our skin.
He pulls me to his chest and my anger is fading, too diluted by his scent and his intensity.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so damn sorry,” is all he says before kissing me brutally on the mouth. Mine pops open in shock when he pulls back to breathe. His gaze presses into mine as my mind tumbles over itself trying to process the abrupt turn of events. His thumb grazes my cheek gently. “I never meant to hurt you,” he says before devouring me again.
And Lord help me, I don’t even know which thing he’s apologizing for—the past or the present—because I’m melting. The rain, his fiery hot mouth, his hands scorching a trail over my body. I’m drowning in Dallas and I can’t stop.
Worse, I don’t even want to.
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