Cathrine Goldstein's Blog - Posts Tagged "sneakpeek"
A SNEAK PEEK!
Today ONLY!!!
In honor of THE LETTING Q & A being featured on The Romance Reviews Year End Splash, I'm offering a SNEAK PEEK at Book 2 of THE LETTING series!!
Visit: https://cathrinegoldstein.wordpress.com/
to read the blurb!
I hope you enjoy! The Letting
In honor of THE LETTING Q & A being featured on The Romance Reviews Year End Splash, I'm offering a SNEAK PEEK at Book 2 of THE LETTING series!!
Visit: https://cathrinegoldstein.wordpress.com/
to read the blurb!
I hope you enjoy! The Letting
And that's not all!!!
TODAY ONLY!!!
In honor of THE LETTING Q & A being featured on The Romance Reviews Year End Splash, I'm offering a SNEAK PEEK EXCERPT from Book 2 of THE LETTING series!!!
Title and Cover Reveal to come...
I hope you enjoy!!!!
For excerpt, head to: http://cathrinegoldstein.com/
The Letting
In honor of THE LETTING Q & A being featured on The Romance Reviews Year End Splash, I'm offering a SNEAK PEEK EXCERPT from Book 2 of THE LETTING series!!!
Title and Cover Reveal to come...
I hope you enjoy!!!!
For excerpt, head to: http://cathrinegoldstein.com/
The Letting
Excerpt - A Christmas Angel
A Christmas Angel – A Sneak Peek
My publisher is featuring a fun excerpt from my new holiday novel, featuring rock star Malcolm Angel… I included it here as a sneak peek! I hope you enjoy! Happy Holidays!
A story to celebrate the holidays…Do you love Malcolm and Summer? Want to know what happens when Summer of Irreverence—The Rock Star ends…? Here’s a sneak peek at a scene from A Christmas Angel (releasing Christmas 2019), a sequel to Summer of Irreverence-The Rock Star. Here, Malcolm Angel, the biggest rock star in the world, is playing for the lighting of the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree in Manhattan. 😊 His friend, legendary musician Stephen Craine is ill, and Malcolm steps in to help him out. Happy Holidays!
(Excerpt from: A Christmas Angel Copyright – Cathrine Goldstein)
As soon as the drummer hit the downbeat of Stephen’s most famous song, the crowd went wild.
“Just wait,” Summer mumbled to herself. “Just wait.” She snuggled into her oversized down coat. She was toasty warm despite the frigid New York temperature.
The intro began and Jimmy, Malcolm’s lead guitarist, jogged on.
“Huh!”A collective gasp echoed across the crowd as women pushed their way closer to the stage to see if what they thought was going to happen—would. Sure enough, seconds later, Stephen Craine and Malcolm Angel slid onstage carrying mics. It didn’t matter Malcolm was the biggest rock star in the world; he insisted they enter together.
Malcolm threw his guitar over his shoulder, and it hung down his back.
“AHHHHH!” Fans rushed the stage as he began singing.
Her heart raced, and she chewed the corner of her lip. Dear God. He raised an arm and his T-shirt lifted to expose rock-hard abs. His hands were covered in fingerless leather gloves, and his hair was perfectly mussed. He looked like he had just rolled out of bed. And the thing was, that was exactly what he looked like when he rolled out of bed. Under her coat she was wearing the sweater he’d just taken off, and she caught a whiff of his scent—strong, dark, dangerous.
Stephen sang the refrain, and thankfully, he was in good voice. No one would ever know how sick the poor guy was. The guitar solos wailed as Malcolm grunted and sang. He held the mic with two hands, pulling it close and then pushing it away in time with his heavy breathing and the audience’s screams.
“We love you, Malcolm!”
“I love you, too.” He winked at Summer, and she grinned.
She dared a glance over her shoulder. Women were shrieking and crying; clapping; singing; dancing wildly. Malcolm lifted a glove to his mouth and pulled it off with his teeth. He chucked it into the audience.
“It’s mine!” A woman in a long puffer coat and trapper hat jumped to catch the glove and held it to her chest as tightly as if she were holding a baby. Another, much taller woman in a shearling jacket reached out and tried to pry it from her grasp. Bedlam broke out as the two women pushed and shoved over Malcolm’s glove.
Her security detail stepped between Summer and the women. “Guys?” She glanced up at the two men Malcolm insisted stay by her side. She shouted to be heard. “I’m okay. Help them.” She nodded to the women, and her security reached out and separated the warring women. Summer took a deep breath, tightening her jacket around her. Thank God no one knew she was wearing one of his sweaters. It was unsettling to see what people would do to be near him. Summer exhaled, and her warm breath passed through her teeth, making a little puff of steam against the icy night. She wasn’t worried about herself, but she was worried about him.
She looked up at him. He had seen it all go down, but never missed a beat. He shimmied his guitar around, but before it made it to the front of him, he…
Wait, what? Summer shook her head, trying to clear her brain from all the shrieking. Did he just…?
Her cheeks burned, and she must have blushed seven shades of red. Her husband, Malcolm Angel, a rock god, the most famous rock star on the planet, just adjusted himself onstage—on live television—during a Christmas special. And the worst—or best—part? She…reacted…when he did.
She pressed her lips together, fighting to calm her breathing and her desire. Her smile grew wider and wider as she thought about what he would do to her in just a few hours. Malcolm sang the next refrain with Stephen, sharing the mic, before breaking into a guitar solo.
She stared at Malcolm, stunned. Never, in the past eight years had she ever heard him play that song. He knew the music—he seemed to know just about every classic rock song—but he had just picked it up. Just now. He was absolutely incredible. His solo ended and Malcolm winked at her before turning to the band. The song finished, and Malcolm turned back to the audience and threw his arm over his head, holding the mic in the air. She glanced at the patch of dark hair climbing up from his faded jeans and collecting on his lower abs.
“Mm-mm.” He pulled the mic back down, and finished with a loud grunt.
The woman in the trapper hat tried to storm the stage, but Malcolm’s security kept her back.
Malcolm ran across the stage, high-fiving each of the band members and then waved to the crowd. Before he left, he nodded to security to bring Summer backstage, and then he sauntered off.
Summer stared after him, dazed, feeling worn but euphoric, exactly like she did when they spent an entire afternoon in bed.
“Mrs. Angel?” Security addressed her. “Ma’am?”
Summer shook her head. “Yes. Sure. Okay. Sorry.” She took a deep breath, needing to focus. Somehow, that incredibly talented, sexy man she just gawked at onstage, was backstage waiting for her.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Merry Christmas to me.
If you haven’t met Malcolm and Summer, you can meet them in Summer of Irreverence-The Rock Star!
Summer of Irreverence -- The Rock Star
Thanks for stopping by! Wishing you a wonderful holiday season!
My publisher is featuring a fun excerpt from my new holiday novel, featuring rock star Malcolm Angel… I included it here as a sneak peek! I hope you enjoy! Happy Holidays!
A story to celebrate the holidays…Do you love Malcolm and Summer? Want to know what happens when Summer of Irreverence—The Rock Star ends…? Here’s a sneak peek at a scene from A Christmas Angel (releasing Christmas 2019), a sequel to Summer of Irreverence-The Rock Star. Here, Malcolm Angel, the biggest rock star in the world, is playing for the lighting of the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree in Manhattan. 😊 His friend, legendary musician Stephen Craine is ill, and Malcolm steps in to help him out. Happy Holidays!
(Excerpt from: A Christmas Angel Copyright – Cathrine Goldstein)
As soon as the drummer hit the downbeat of Stephen’s most famous song, the crowd went wild.
“Just wait,” Summer mumbled to herself. “Just wait.” She snuggled into her oversized down coat. She was toasty warm despite the frigid New York temperature.
The intro began and Jimmy, Malcolm’s lead guitarist, jogged on.
“Huh!”A collective gasp echoed across the crowd as women pushed their way closer to the stage to see if what they thought was going to happen—would. Sure enough, seconds later, Stephen Craine and Malcolm Angel slid onstage carrying mics. It didn’t matter Malcolm was the biggest rock star in the world; he insisted they enter together.
Malcolm threw his guitar over his shoulder, and it hung down his back.
“AHHHHH!” Fans rushed the stage as he began singing.
Her heart raced, and she chewed the corner of her lip. Dear God. He raised an arm and his T-shirt lifted to expose rock-hard abs. His hands were covered in fingerless leather gloves, and his hair was perfectly mussed. He looked like he had just rolled out of bed. And the thing was, that was exactly what he looked like when he rolled out of bed. Under her coat she was wearing the sweater he’d just taken off, and she caught a whiff of his scent—strong, dark, dangerous.
Stephen sang the refrain, and thankfully, he was in good voice. No one would ever know how sick the poor guy was. The guitar solos wailed as Malcolm grunted and sang. He held the mic with two hands, pulling it close and then pushing it away in time with his heavy breathing and the audience’s screams.
“We love you, Malcolm!”
“I love you, too.” He winked at Summer, and she grinned.
She dared a glance over her shoulder. Women were shrieking and crying; clapping; singing; dancing wildly. Malcolm lifted a glove to his mouth and pulled it off with his teeth. He chucked it into the audience.
“It’s mine!” A woman in a long puffer coat and trapper hat jumped to catch the glove and held it to her chest as tightly as if she were holding a baby. Another, much taller woman in a shearling jacket reached out and tried to pry it from her grasp. Bedlam broke out as the two women pushed and shoved over Malcolm’s glove.
Her security detail stepped between Summer and the women. “Guys?” She glanced up at the two men Malcolm insisted stay by her side. She shouted to be heard. “I’m okay. Help them.” She nodded to the women, and her security reached out and separated the warring women. Summer took a deep breath, tightening her jacket around her. Thank God no one knew she was wearing one of his sweaters. It was unsettling to see what people would do to be near him. Summer exhaled, and her warm breath passed through her teeth, making a little puff of steam against the icy night. She wasn’t worried about herself, but she was worried about him.
She looked up at him. He had seen it all go down, but never missed a beat. He shimmied his guitar around, but before it made it to the front of him, he…
Wait, what? Summer shook her head, trying to clear her brain from all the shrieking. Did he just…?
Her cheeks burned, and she must have blushed seven shades of red. Her husband, Malcolm Angel, a rock god, the most famous rock star on the planet, just adjusted himself onstage—on live television—during a Christmas special. And the worst—or best—part? She…reacted…when he did.
She pressed her lips together, fighting to calm her breathing and her desire. Her smile grew wider and wider as she thought about what he would do to her in just a few hours. Malcolm sang the next refrain with Stephen, sharing the mic, before breaking into a guitar solo.
She stared at Malcolm, stunned. Never, in the past eight years had she ever heard him play that song. He knew the music—he seemed to know just about every classic rock song—but he had just picked it up. Just now. He was absolutely incredible. His solo ended and Malcolm winked at her before turning to the band. The song finished, and Malcolm turned back to the audience and threw his arm over his head, holding the mic in the air. She glanced at the patch of dark hair climbing up from his faded jeans and collecting on his lower abs.
“Mm-mm.” He pulled the mic back down, and finished with a loud grunt.
The woman in the trapper hat tried to storm the stage, but Malcolm’s security kept her back.
Malcolm ran across the stage, high-fiving each of the band members and then waved to the crowd. Before he left, he nodded to security to bring Summer backstage, and then he sauntered off.
Summer stared after him, dazed, feeling worn but euphoric, exactly like she did when they spent an entire afternoon in bed.
“Mrs. Angel?” Security addressed her. “Ma’am?”
Summer shook her head. “Yes. Sure. Okay. Sorry.” She took a deep breath, needing to focus. Somehow, that incredibly talented, sexy man she just gawked at onstage, was backstage waiting for her.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Merry Christmas to me.
If you haven’t met Malcolm and Summer, you can meet them in Summer of Irreverence-The Rock Star!
Summer of Irreverence -- The Rock Star
Thanks for stopping by! Wishing you a wonderful holiday season!
