Title: A Shit Storm
Series: Six Silver Strings E String Set
Author: Lisa Gillis
Editor: Pedantic Punctuator
Page Count: 328 pages
Genre: New Adult – Rock Romance
Published: March 13, 2015
Tristan Loren is the first to admit he’s lived a privileged life.
However, the top schools, the best games and phones and cars, the finest of whatever his heart desired has come with strangers yelling for his attention and camera flashes in his face.
His classmates have visions of college life in the fall following senior year, while his fantasy is a normal existence. Whatever normalcy is, he’s sure it’s not graduating with honors–and his virginity.
Aside from having a paranoid mom who has made it her mission to see that he’s never alone with a girl, he wants his first time to be with someone who doesn’t know him as Jack Storm-of-the-multi-platinum-Jackal Junior.
Chasing the vision of a woman and a world who doesn’t know of him takes him from the sunshiny suburbs of Dallas to the snowy streets of Detroit.
When he sees Sash in person, the girl he’s texted, phoned, and Skyped for the better part of a year, he’s drawn to her secret smile, and the tattooed half sleeves decorating her arms. Her fiery, fun personality and musical skills make her seem the soul mate he’s been seeking.
But Sash has her own secrets—secrets that make him wish he’d never met her. Falling for Sash and finding his own identity may cost him more than what’s in his wallet.
A Shit Storm can stand alone but for fans of Six Silver Strings Series, this novel includes scenes with characters from G-Strings and D-Strings with several appearances of Jack and Marissa Storm.
A Shit Storm excerpt 3
“I’m not allergic to any foods.” I inform her as the bite trickles down my throat. Now I understand her nirvana. It’s delicious.
“Good to know.” Leaving the container in my lap, she reaches over, scraping her spoon through, and when she leans into her bite, I smell her.
Her shampoo, lotion, clothes detergent—I’ve no idea, but the aroma is tantalizing. Berries. I struggle to place the scent and then do. Raspberries.
“You?” My question is quick to steer my thoughts away before I’m forced to find a creative way to cover a hard on. Because this little quart of ice cream will be no help at all.
“Um…” Her head tilts, and her lips clamp onto her spoon as she considers. “No foods. But I’ve got a bad latex allergy.”
Well THAT doesn’t help matters. My brain conjures up a sleek, glossy black formfitting jumpsuit, molded like a second skin to every curve on her body. Defensively, another image takes its place—a sixty-year-old man wearing a Speedo at the beach last week.
“Latex?” I finally manage after several silent seconds.
“You know… Bandages. Like at the hospital…” Her lashes part, and she appraises me with a very wide-eyed assessment. “WHAT did you think I meant?”
I keep my eyes on the bite I’m shaving onto my spoon and admit, “I pictured a cat woman suit.”
“You did, did you?” She sounds intrigued, and her spoon is dangling.
Meeting her eyes, I grin. “Yeah. And a rash covering you from head to toe.”
Feeling the brush of her foot to my calf, I realize she’s kicked me with those dainty toes and their black metallic toenails.
“That was mean, Trey Duplei. Give me my ice cream back!”
“No way! It’s not my fault! You said it!” I scuffle to keep the ice cream in my possession, but after several seconds of her arms brushing mine, and her breath so close, I relinquish my hold.
Self-defense. Hard-on prevention.
Collapsing back into the cushions, she makes a show of eating it solo. That’s fine with me because it gives me a chance to beg. And that’s the odd urge I have. To beg her for something…
“C’mon, just one more bite, Sash…”
“Please…” I scoot a millimeter closer.
Clamping her wrist with my fingers, I guide her current bite to my lips, and she doesn’t resist. The slide of the cool, sweet cream against my tongue is the most heavenly thing I’ve ever tasted. Her lips draw my eyes, and I wonder how her tongue would taste against mine. THAT would be celestial.
“I’m so glad you’re real.” She spoons up another bite.
“Huh?” As I breathe the inquiry, a stab of guilt twists. Because I’m a fake.
“I had convinced myself you wouldn’t really come. That you were catfishing me somehow, and you were probably some old pervert man.”
“Me too.” As I make the admission, I remember how perfect the public meeting place had been. “I was never so glad to see you walking across that parking lot. I mean, I know we Skyped. But until that second, I figured there was a good chance you weren’t really you, either.”
Our knuckles bump as we both scoop a bite, and she clicks her spoon to mine. “To us being us.”
“To us being us.” I parrot and watch with way too much interest as her bite disappears into her pink mouth.
Lisa Gillis lives in Texas among family and loves it all, from the beaches deserts to the sprawling metropolises. Her loyal, loving musician husband inspires her fictional men, and her beautiful-hearted son brings the light to her world.
Writing is her passion, and she strives to blend the perfect mixture of fantasy and reality into her books. While listening to music, the little voices in her head become the fascinating characters in her novels, and each series, including Silver Strings, is infused with her love of music, bands and concerts.
When she’s not writing or making her own music on her guitar or drums, she’s catering to her spoiled, hyper and lovable chocolate lab, Bailey.
Good luck and happy winning!
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