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Lusts Rhythm

Stage Right, Book Four

They’ve circled each other for years…

Lust’s Rhythm is a fast-paced erotic romance that will keep you turning the pages. It all started in Book 1 of the Heart of Fame series with mega rockstar Nick Blackthorne, and now his daughter is all grown up and ready to take on the world. Her only problem…her father!

She’s the daughter of rock royalty.

He’s been warned off by her famous father.

But Jed Brody has lusted after Chloe Blackthorne for four years, and when Chloe lets him know the lust is entirely mutual, nothing will stop the bad boy of rock claiming her as his.

Career be damned!

This contemporary erotic romance contains romantic comedy, bad-boy rock stars, adult content and situations, and is not intended for readers under the age of 18.


The sound of tires screeching to a halt on the street beside them cut him short.

“Get in, get in,” their earlier taxi driver shouted at them from behind the steering wheel, beckoning with a frenzied hand waving through the open window.

Jed laughed. “Bloody perfect timing.”

Chloe sprinted for the back passenger door.

They threw themselves into the backseat, the pap chasing after them.

It wasn’t until they were speeding down the street, almost a block away, that she remembered to breathe again. “Whoa.”

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“Mate,” Jed leant forward and clapped the driver on his shoulder through the security partition. “You’re a lifesaver.”

The man flashed a toothy smile at him. “You’re welcome. Where can I take you?”

Dropping back beside her, Jed gave Chloe a curious look.

She wriggled deeper into his side, rested her head on his shoulder, and gave the driver her own smile. “The Beverly Wilshire.”

“The Beverly Wilshire,” the cabbie confirmed, a second before the taxi’s speed increased.

Silence stretched between them. There was nothing awkward or uncomfortable about it. Chloe closed her eyes, loving how perfect it felt to relax cuddled into Jed, how easy she fit to his angles.

With one arm hugging her to him, he drew lazy circles on the side of her thigh with his fingers, his lips occasionally pressing against the top of her head.

She listened to his heart, counting its beats, losing herself to the rhythm.

There was music in its soft beat, a music she felt all the way to her soul.

He is better than playing the cello.

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