Rock Me Dirty

Twenty effing years I’ve given my fans, my agents, my band members–everyone but me–what they wanted. I gave them everything I had. But I can’t anymore. I’m dead inside. There’s nothing left to give. Until I see her. The girl wearing wings. White. Angel wings. She turns to me and her eyes find mine. And a blast of electricity rips through me. And I feel it. I feel the music like I haven’t in years.

I don’t know a thing about her. At least, I don’t know things that don’t matter. Her name. Where she lives. All I know is that she has somehow ignited that fire in me again.

She’s my angel. My siren. My salvation. Mine.

There’s only one problem–she doesn’t know it yet.

Warning: this sizzling story of insta-lust comes with cheese. If you’re expecting a deep, philosophical read, try Hermann Hesse.