~ Synopsis ~
Sometimes in love, you lose all control… At age ten, Rain fell hard for the sweet boy caring for his little sister. At age eighteen, she runs into Lennon, now an experienced player and no longer the innocent boy she once loved. At age nineteen, she has to put all her plans on hold to have his baby, and under a cloud of deception, she faces tragedy and heartbreak. At age ten, Lennon proposed to Rain in front of the whole school. At age eighteen, he thought he was over her until he sees her at a party, no longer a little girl but all grown-up and sexy as hell. At age nineteen, he loses everything he ever cared about. ***WARNING: This book is New Adult Contemporary Romance and contains sexual content.Add to Goodreads
Purchase links for previous books in the series
Lennon’s Rain (Lennon’s Girl #1) Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble
Lennon’s Jinx (Lennon’s Girl #2) Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble
~ About the Author ~
Chris Myers spends most of her free time writing and dreaming up new characters who fight each other for page time. She is an award-winning author of five published novels: LENNON'S JINX and LENNON'S RAIN, first two in a New Adult romance trilogy, and DAT E WIT H T HE DEAD and DEAD AND MISSING, first two in a YA paranormal mystery series, and a dark thriller. Chris's work has appeared in the NewsMag and has earned several awards including first place Paul Gillette, Colorado Gold finalist, and semi-finalist in the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award. She has taught writing workshops for PPW and Delve Writing and was an adjunct professor at CSU.
Giveaway
$50 Gift Card and Lennon’s Rain and Lennon’s Jinx signed. (2) $25 Amazon Gift Card
1-4 video trailers for Lennon’s Blog Tour (See attached, may
be in multiple emails)
5) Ten things in my purse.
1.
Photos of my husband and daughter
2.
My Mac Air
3.
Two flash drives
4.
My iPhone connected to all my email and a Kindle
app
5.
My library card. I use it practically every week!
6.
My iPad with the Kindle app
7.
My writing notebook
8.
Trading cards for Lennon’s Girls Trilogy
9.
Reading glasses, sunglasses, prescription
glasses.
10.
Chocolate and a sore back. Oh that’s not in my
purse!
What’s in your
purse? Please respond in the comments.
6) Inspiration behind the book
The characters in Lennon’s Girls Trilogy came to me in a
dream. The outlines for all three books were written first, and I wrote several
scenes for the last book prior to writing the first one, probably because the
final book held so much emotion, pain, and love. The intensity between the two
main characters struck me as something that many readers, including myself,
could relate to.
The first book Lennon’s Jinx got pinged a few times for
having realistic male internals. I get the fact that some women don’t want to
be in the head of a teenaged boy. Growing up, most of my friends were guys, and
I could easily relate to them. Even though I had zero practical experience in
sex until college, I read a lot, so my guy friends often asked me questions
about sex to satisfy their girlfriends. Any healthy male, especially teenaged boys,
have X-rated thoughts, and I wanted to be true to my character. Though I have
to say my copy editor made me tone it down a bit.
I find exploring people’s most inner thoughts allows me to
truly understand others. Getting into those dark niches of my friends and
acquaintances provide insight into cultural, racial, demographic, and gender
differences that make each of us unique. It’s that understanding and digging
deeper that makes characters come alive.
What do you love to read? Please respond in the comments.
7) Lennon’s Hope
L : Deep and intense LOVE
E: The EROCTIC stirrings between Lennon and Rain
N: Lennon’s NOBLE acts
N: NUDITY, how Rain bares her soul to Lennon
O: Lennon’s love for Rain is OBSESSIVE
N: Lennon is NOSTALGIC for what once was
S: SEX and plenty of it
H: The summation of Lennon and Rain’s love is HOPE.
O: Rain needs to be OPEN to mend her relationship with
Lennon
P: The PAIN Lennon cannot escape
E: The EVERLASTING love Rain feels for Lennon
8) What I Love to Write
I love to write multi-genre stories that cross barriers and
spark the imagination. I read everything from non-fiction to sci-fi from
romance to political thrillers. I love to write stories that keep the readers guessing.
Learning from good mysteries, suspense, and thrillers allows me to inject those
elements into romance and my young adult series. Stories that make readers care
about the characters and keep them turning the pages are what I strive to
achieve.
Unlike many authors, I try to read every written review and
often find some really easy fixes to make my fiction better. I don’t agree with
everything, but for the most part, I find many of the reviewers are thoughtful
and considerate. Sometimes I get a laugh when someone says something couldn’t
possibly be true when it is. Let’s face it; truth really is stranger than
fiction. Though my work is fiction, I pull from my life and others’ experiences
to add in salient details. I research whatever I’m unsure about or where I want
more depth. It’s probably not possible to get every detail completely accurate,
but I work hard at putting on the characters’ shoes and walking around in them.
It’s not what I would do, but what my characters would do.
What do you love to read? Please respond in the comments.
9) TEN BOOKISH PEEVES
1.
Too many typos. I have never read a book that
didn’t have some grammar mistake or typo, but if the story is rife with
mistakes, I won’t read it.
2.
No research done on the topic. No one is perfect,
but when it’s apparent that nothing was researched, the fiction is sometimes
irresponsible and hurtful to those who have experienced what happened in the
book and make it seem less than the actual experience.
3.
Male and female characters that sound the same,
i.e. dialogue, internals.
4.
TSTL. Too stupid to live heroines or heroes. My
critique partners jump all over me whenever I have one of those moments. I
recently read a highly rated book where a seasoned cop left his loaded guns on
his front porch step at the request of a teenaged boy.
5.
Too much narrative. It drags the story. During
my rewrites, I try to remove as much as possible.
6.
A male voice that sounds like a valley girl.
Guys do not think like women, and women shouldn’t expect them to.
7.
Male voices that all sound the same: sarcastic,
testosterone infused, machismos.
8.
Male characters that women instantly fall in
love with who are either abusive or have the psychological profile of a serial
killer.
9.
POV switches in a scene or chapter or too many
POVs. Unless you’re Barbara Kingsolver, don’t use too many because it dilutes
the connection the reader has to the story.
10.
The expectation that a writer is perfect. We
aren’t. My critique partners catch problems with my work all the time, and I
thank them when they do, but I work really hard at doing my best.
What are your pet
peeves when you read? Please respond in the comments.
10) ADVICE FOR
WRITERS
1.
Experience life. What I love to read is when
someone has actually experienced part of what they’ve written.
2.
Join a writers group and hone your craft. A
wealth of information can be gathered from workshops and conferences and other
writers.
3.
Go back to school. My dad says, “Once you quit
learning, you’re dead.”
4.
Find good
critique partners. They will help you stay motivated and keep you in line.
5.
Find a good copy editor. Even traditionally
published books suffer from grammar mistakes.
6.
Keep writing and do your best.
7.
Read, read, read.
8.
With each novel, strive to be better.
9.
Have fun and enjoy life. Life is too short to
dance with mean people.
10.
Smile. More people will want to know and meet
you, and that’s where real characters evolve.
What advice can you give to writers? Please respond in the
comments.
11) Top ten plus one favorite movies or TV shows.
1.
Titanic. What a powerful love story!
2.
Suddenly Last Summer. This is a really creepy
old movie with Katherine Hepburn and Elizabeth Taylor.
3.
Topper with Cary Grant. Really funny movie.
4.
The Little Mermaid. I love the music!
5.
Life is Beautiful. A priest recommended this
movie to me.
6.
Gran Torino. Clint Eastwood’s best movie, and he
has a lot of good ones.
7.
Blade Runner, Harrison Ford is masculine, no
doubt.
8.
Breaking Bad, some of the best writing I’ve ever
witnessed.
9.
Game of Thrones, One of the coolest shows I’ve
ever watched.
10.
Homeland. This show rocks. A bipolar CIA analyst,
but in real life, this would’ve been caught early on. Don’t ask why I know this
or I’ll have to kill you—a very dated joke passed around in the realm of the
agencies and DoD.
11.
Walking Dead. I cannot get enough of this.
What are your
favorites movies or shows? Please respond in the comments.
12) What do I think makes the best love interest?
1.
A man who makes a woman laugh.
2.
A man who loves animals.
3.
A man who has mechanical inclinations.
4.
A man who has common sense.
5.
A man who loves his family.
6.
A man who doesn’t beat other guys to a pulp.
7.
A man who isn’t perfect.
8.
A man who loves to travel.
9.
A man who will attend an art showing, even
though it’s not his thing.
10.
A man who can cook.
Who is your ideal
man? Name a favorite actor or personality in the comments.
13) Ten Awesome
Destinations That Will Inspire Any Author
1.
Soak up the sun and read a good book on the
beaches of Moorea (Tahitian island)
2.
See the Terracotta Army in Xian, China
3.
Dive Pink Beach, Bonaire
4.
Visit the Blue Mosque in Istanbul
5.
Belize ATM Tour (wading upstream through a fast
moving river, rock climbing to ceremonial site, jungle hike). You could never
do this in the States. Personal favorite.
6.
Fly-in for Salmon fishing in Alaska.
7.
Sample wine at Wyndham Estate in New South
Wales, Australia.
8.
Ski in Chamonix, France and take the tram to the
top of Mont Blanc.
9.
Ride a camel to the Great Pyramids of Egypt.
10.
Visit Jesus’s birthplace in Bethlehem. It’s a
cave!
What are your favorite places? Please let me know in the
comments.
Lennon’s Trilogy
14) JINX
Jinx is the girl who stops Lennon from having sex with other
women.
Jinx is the bad luck that causes Lennon to reevaluate his
life.
RAIN
Rain cleanses of the body and spirit.
Rain is a metaphor for the sexual climax of a woman.
HOPE
Hope is a gift to Lennon and the love of his life.
Hope tears them apart and brings them together.
Excerpts
1. I wait patiently
offstage. Indigo Blues has been playing for almost an hour, and the crowd loves
them.
With sweat glistening on Lennon’s
firm chest and abs, his tats shine under the spotlight. I’d like to claw out
the Rain on his chest. How dare he put me over his heart?
“We’re going to slow it down,”
Lennon says into the mike, his deep voice quivering my abdomen. “I’d like to
introduce the love of my life and my wife, Rain from Crank.”
A few disappointed girls boo.
Lennon has on leather pants, and it’s obvious he isn’t wearing underwear. That
long penis splayed across his pelvis and riding down his thigh is no sock. And
when he catches me staring at it, the damn thing grows. He dresses like a slut,
but I can’t?
I strut onto the stage,
imitating the Marilyn Monroe catwalk. I fake a smile despite the icepick
stabbing my damaged leg. The guys in the front rows throw roses onto the stage
and even a few girls do. Those must be for Lennon. I pick one up and smell the
intoxicating scent. I’d like nothing more for us to be at home, the three of
us.
Lennon meets me halfway and
closes in on me. I suck in a quick breath, not suitable for singing. My legs
shake being so close to him. A mixture of hate and lust fill my belly.
He nods at the band to keep
playing the intro. He leans down and ties my shoes, like he did when I ran into
him at the sorority party after not seeing him for eight years.
“You’re still my girl,” he says.
The crowd quiets to hear him.
When he fingers back his dark
curls, like he often does to Hope, a whimper escapes my lips. I glance away
from his face, and my gaze lands on his loins.
He covers his mouthpiece and
whispers into my ear, “Getting an eyeful?”
Ugh. I’m still staring at his
crotch. I can’t help it. He might as well be naked wearing the tight leather.
Tears spring to my eyes. “I hate
you,” I mouth.
Hurt shadows his eyes. His hand
presses on my hip then glides over my butt, shoving me against his erection. He
rubs it against me, and my knees almost give out. I long to carry his baby
again, to feel her growing inside, her snare drum of kicks against my belly, to
sing to her.
As Lennon grinds against me, a
lot of girls groan down front.
“Make love to me,” he says into
the mike.
When the song ends, Lennon
doesn’t let go of me. He takes both hands and cups my cheeks. What the hell
does he think he’s doing? One hand slides up my back and grips the back of my
head. My body mutinies me and catches fire.
He leans down and forces my
mouth open with his tongue. I struggle against him, but it’s of no use. He
kisses me long, hard, and deep. So much desire fills that kiss my body goes
limp in his arms.
The arena has grown strangely
quiet. I break free, swing my opened hand at him, and slap him hard across the
cheek. A handprint blooms there, throbbing a brutal red.
“Women,” he clucks into his mike, holding his cheek.
2) While I toss in my sleep, I
bump into something warm and soft. Half asleep I wrap my arms around her and
cup small breasts. Rain’s aren’t small. When my nose nuzzles her hair, the
scent is not Rain’s but smoky, reeking of pot.
I stumble out of bed and turn on
the light. “What the hell?”
Cindy smiles up at me and pats
the bed. She’s in butt-floss panties and no bra. Small, perky tits stare back
at me. “Come back to bed. I thought I’d surprise you.”
My mind has a hard time
controlling my tongue I’m so out of it. I finally find it. “I am not going to
fuck you, so get the hell out. You’ll never be a backup singer for Indigo Blues
again.”
She stands, picks up her
clothes, like it’s no big deal, and says, “I have a contract. You can’t just
fire me. And one way or another, I get what I want.” Her finger scrapes my chin
as she cavorts by me. She’s so unappealing the Big Guy is completely limp, or
it could be the drugs.
She grabs my dick. “This is
mine. You wait and see.”
I push her off, but it’s hard
because my body wants to fall back into bed. I won’t do that until she’s gone
though. I’m not that wasted.
Carrying her clothes, she struts
out of my bedroom door and into the living area—her shirt barely covering her
breasts. She doesn’t even bother putting them on.
“You should put some clothes
on,” I slur.
“I want to make sure you know
what you’re missing.”
I open the door to shove her
out, and Rain is standing there wearing the sable coat I bought her and the
sexiest pair of red alligator stilettos I’ve ever seen along with black
stockings. She came to me. Shit. I’ve been dying for this moment but not like
this. Not when I’m stoned.
She snorts out a bitter laugh,
not what I’m expecting.
As Cindy squeezes by Rain, she
brushes her breasts against her. “Excuse me.”
Rain ignores her, cocks her
head, and studies me with those beautiful desert-blue-sky eyes of hers. “You’re
high.” I reach for her, but she jerks back. “Don’t. Please don’t.”
3) I shackle both of Rain’s
wrists above her head, so she cannot escape.
She rasps but doesn’t struggle
against my bond. Those desert-blue-sky eyes smolder and lock onto mine.
I slam my groin into her, my
cock hard and throbbing for her. “Why are you here? To torture me?”
She blinks at me. “Huh?”
“You look so fucking hot. Why
would you come here? Why would you hurt me like this?” I smash my lips into
hers, hungry and hot, and she fiercely kisses me back. Her tongue collides with
mine. “Please don’t do this to me, Rain.” Did she change her mind? It doesn’t
seem likely from the finality of the no-contest clause.
Her chin drops to her chest, and
her gaze lands on the fresh bruising on the inside of my arm. Without breaking
my tight grip, she gently kisses the mark. I wrestle my arm free and hide my
shame behind my back while the other pins her against the wall. “I’ve only done
it a couple times.” It’s a lie. I’ve shot up a half-dozen times since I got the
papers. “I’m not an addict.”
“Please stop.” Her eyes shine
with pain for me. “I love you, and I want more children…with you and only you.”
“What?” What is she saying? I
avert my eyes and my disgrace. “It’s no longer your concern. I’ve got this
under control.”
“You don’t.” One hand wriggles
free, her fingers trace my parched lips, and my cock aches for her. “What are
you doing with these girls? Do you know how much it hurts me? And the drugs.
That’s far worse.”
4)
I slip out of my sweats, and
Defcon’s eyes grow to the size of Moon pies, and Cage’s mouth opens wide enough
to swallow a water buffalo. Too bad Lennon isn’t around to see this.
The leather bustier I bought for
stupid Lennon shows plenty of cleavage, and the matching shorts show the lips
of my butt cheeks. It’ll be hard for me to dance regardless. My left hip
twinges at the thought of any sharp turns.
We run out onto the stage. We get
the arena pumped up during the first five songs, when I spot Lennon coming at
me. His lips are curled into a snarl. His arms swing at his side, and his face
burns an angry red.
A few of the stagehands go after
him, but not before he plucks me off the stage.
“What the hell do you think
you’re doing?” I yell. I expected him to be mad but not this. He’s gone psycho.
Shock and embarrassment breaks
into a sweat onto my forehead. This is way overboard. “Let go of me.” His touch
showers me with sparks. I still love him. I still want him. I just need to be
able to look him in the eye without the trapdoor collapsing underneath me.
The crowd goes wild, cheering
and clapping. They probably think this is part of the act. The worst part is as
mad as I am, my sex tightens with a need so strong that I’m gasping for air.
What is wrong with me? He used drugs and cheated on me with low-class, trailer
trash.
I yank the mike away from my
mouth and beat on his rock-solid chest—the one I curled against when he pulled
me from the wreckage. “Put me down, Lennon.”
Trey keeps rapping like
nothing’s happened. “That Lennon Tyler is such a He-man,” he adlibs.
The stagehands pry me from
Lennon’s grasp after a hell of a struggle.
Lennon reaches for me, but his
band mates and the roadies restrain him. “What the hell do you think you’re
doing?”
“Stop. Just stop.” It’s hard to
leave him. I should’ve comforted him, but he can’t do this to us just because
he’s popular.
Clive locks onto him, but it’s
like holding down an enraged bull. “Bloody hell.”
Lennon’s glaring so hard at me,
I cringe.
“The mother of my child can’t
dress like that,” he growls.
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