Outcasts, black sheep, those who never fit in anywhere. Winter’s Wrath belongs to them. Every single member of the band rejects the norm when it comes to music.
They won’t settle when it comes to love.
Alder Trousseau, the lead guitarist in a band that owns his heart and soul, has always stood in the shadow of a man he hates. Braver “Brave” Trousseau, the voice of Winter’s Wrath.
For the success of the band, they have to work past their animosity, but that’s difficult when they have the same taste in women. And men.
Sex is a game to Brave. A game that might leave the people Alder cares for completely broken. Unless he claims them for his own.
If he steps out of the shadows, he’ll have no choice to play. To win.
On stage, the drama drives the fans insane. The songs they sing are a blood racing, body moving, warcry. But the very real battle taking place between the snares and the mic might tear the band apart.
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Drawing in a shaky breath, wondering when it had gotten so damn hot in here, she nodded. “I never thought two guys were hot together until I saw Alder and Malakai on stage.”
Jesse’s lips thinned. “Yeah, I like watching that a whole lot less.”
Alder’s hand still on her neck. “You’re jealous of Malakai? That’s fucking new.”
“It’s not a big deal. I get why you put on the whole homoerotic show on stage. For how ‘straight’ metal is, the fans have always gotten off on the man on man thing.” Jesse folded his arms over his chest. “If I didn’t care about you so much, I would have seduced you a long time ago. But I have a bad history with relationships. I don’t go for the guy I might have a nice, stable future with. I go for the one that’s so screwed up, there’s no fucking hope of it ending well.”
Danica reached out, putting her hand on his tightly crossed arms. “Do you know why?”
He made a face, shaking his head. Then released a shallow laugh. “Actually, maybe I do. I spent the first few years of my adult life angry and alone because my parents kicked me out. I was broken and no one could be bothered with me. I guess I look for broken and want to fix it. Works out real well for me.”
That would explain what he’d seen in Brave. But she really didn’t want him thinking about Brave right now.
Trailing his fingers up the side of her neck, Alder chuckled. “I guess it’s good to know you don’t consider me broken.”
“You might be when I’m done with you.”
There was no doubting the fear underlying Jesse’s warning. Danica studied his face, hoping she’d find a clue as to what to do next. The longing in his eyes told her he wanted this. But if he didn’t have to fight for what he wanted, he didn’t seem to know how to take it.
She traced her fingers up the center of his chest, the edge of her lip quirking up. “You can’t break him, Jesse. I won’t let you.”
“You think you can stop me?” Jesse’s eyes closed as she brought her fingers to his neck, stroking him much like Alder was stroking her. “I don’t mean it to sound like a threat.”
“My track record fucking sucks. I don’t know how long this will last, but—”
“But you really need to relax. I’m pretty sure Alder’s not expecting you to propose.” She brought her other hand up to his arms to tug them apart. “Don’t overthink this. Is the idea of kissing me so scary?”
The uncertainty in Jesse’s eyes disappeared, replaced by pure masculine confidence. Relationships might not be his thing, but he had no doubt about his other abilities. His whole stance shifted, and goosebumps spread over every inch of her as he moved forward, trapping her between his body and Alder’s.
“If it wasn’t a little scary, it wouldn’t be worth doing.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, so close she could feel his breath on her lips. “Are you afraid, Danica?”
She shivered. Were they really doing this? So much of her time had been spent running different scenarios over and over in her head. Some where her and Jesse shared Alder. Others where she was forced to walk away so she didn’t come between them.
But she’d never let herself fantasize about how being between them could be one of the hottest experiences of her life. One that might change absolutely everything she’d thought she wanted.
Not only for Alder.
Jesse caught her chin between his thumb and his bent forefinger, flicking his tongue over her bottom lip. “Good.”
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About Bianca Sommerland ~
Bianca Sommerland was born and raised in Montreal, Quebec. When not reading neurotically or writing as though the fate of the world rests on her keyboard, she is either watching hockey or teaching her daughters the beauty of a classic, steel pony while reminiscing about her days in Auto Body Mechanics.
Her time is balanced with utmost care between normal family life, and the internal paranormal realm where her characters reside. For the most part, she succeeds.