Half-Life bassist Krist Mellas is caught in a PR nightmare after his dirty sex video blew up online. His agent has the solution: a fake engagement with sultry pop princess Madeline Fox. Krist can’t think of anything worse than a charade with the bubblegum bombshell…except losing the band.

Madeline knows better than anyone what it means to live a lie in the spotlight. She’s determined to help Krist without ever letting him find out what it costs her—or about her girlhood crush on him. But after a smoking hot back alley encounter with him leaves her breathless, she can’t deny she wants the snarling bad-boy rocker.

In a world of glitter and diamonds where the kisses are fake but the climaxes are real, their facades start to crack. And the publicity storm may shatter them both.

WARNING: This book contains a scorching threesome, a dirty talking pop princess, and a surly rocker who hits all the right notes.

What readers are saying…

“Shari Slade and Amber Lin take the boundaries of acceptable saucy sex and then push it that little bit further into full blown filth!!! Love it!!! I actually feel like Krist and Maddy are perfect for one another. I love the connection they have and hell even the banter between them is sexy.”Gemma Reads Too Much

“It’s impossible not to fall for Krist the half-life bassist, that has a rough, hard exterior, but also has a soft loving heart on the inside. A guy that is willing to do anything for anyone no matter the cost or affect it has on his self. And Maddy had so much depth to her, I loved her.”Books Unhinged

“Krist soon realizes that everything he knows about Madeline is not true. She’s not weak. She’s strong and dominating. She takes charge when she wants something and the something she wants is Krist. When he gives in they are extremely H-O-T!Kelsey’s Corner Time

“EVERYBODY is aware of the scorching heat between the two of them. It’s not just a show for the media, it is HOT! And…um…wait till you read about the birthday kiss…you’ll be wishing for one when you blow out the candles this year (wink-wink).”iScream Books

“I really enjoyed this book, I enjoyed watching the change in both characters and how their relationship developed…For lovers of Rock Star romance you will enjoy this book and the drama that is Half-Life.”Perusing Princesses

” I loved the chemistry between Krist and Maddy – even when he couldn’t stand her there was more behind the dislike than meets the eye. The air around these two is combustible, just waiting for that spark to set it all alight. And when it start- man oh man is it hot hot HOT!! Seriously hot. Melt the paint off the walls as you are a fly on it hot!!”BJ’s Book Blog

“I thought I knew what I was going to get with this story, but I guess I’d forgotten because boy was I blown away. Not only did Amber and Shari bring the heat, but they brought this story that was so deep…It’s raw and emotional, yet still hot enough to singe my fingers.”Confessions of a YA and NA Book Addict

“5 Scorching Hot Rocker Stars…I loved this book! I highly recommend it. Krist is supposed to be this big bad boy rocker, but underneath it all he has a heart of gold.”Swoon Worthy Books

“One of the best rock star romances I’ve read in a long time, it’s a perfect balance of heat, grit, and real emotion.”The Reading Room


Watch the wings.

He couldn’t miss them. She was naked but for feathers and glitter. Untouchable. Two grips ushered her along the catwalk and affixed her harness to a rig in the rafters. Krist was only a few feet off the ground on his platform, but he still felt unsteady. She was so high.

An assistant counted down, and the director shouted, “Action!”

The army of dancers below writhed to the thumping bass line of the guide track, feet pounding the floor, but Krist only had eyes for Madeline. She lifted her arms above her head like the ballerina in a little girl’s jewelry box, stepped off the ledge, and twirled down, singing.

“I break my own wings.”

The power in her vocals, the edge behind the lyric, knocked him more off balance. He’d expected her to lip sync. He’d expected her to fucking suck.

“I am falling. I am falling. Lift me up.”

All the dancers below lifted their hands in unison and swayed like the collective force of their will would boost her higher. Cheesy pop bullshit, but something about it worked. He didn’t want to admit it, but she had…something. She could fucking sing.

Her descent slowed. If he stretched, he could just reach her perfectly manicured toe. Almost time.

His whole body tensed as a camera swung in his direction. He grimaced and gripped the railing when the platform beneath him, mounted on what looked like a cherry-picker truck, shifted closer to Madeline. The cameraman gave him a thumbs-up. He must look sufficiently demonic.

Now. He reached for her, grabbing her by the waist, the only part of her body unadorned, and pulled her close. One breath and he was overcome by her scent. Spicy cotton candy. Unexpected and strangely perfect. A second breath and he prepared to do his damned job, to mash his lips against hers and fling her back to her adoring throng. It was only skin. It didn’t mean anything.
Her eyes flashed mischief. Hi, she mouthed and hooked her legs around his hips.

He froze. The producer hadn’t mentioned grinding in the rundown earlier. She shimmied against him, and his traitorous cock responded. Do the job you came to do.

Before he could, she bent her head and stole the kiss he’d been hired to deliver. He couldn’t help but gasp, and then her tongue, warm and electric, invaded his mouth. Chai.

Could an angel corrupt a devil?

“I am falling. I am falling.” The guide track looped in the background, distorted by Auto-Tune, hardly recognizable as the sultry voice he’d just heard.

It was too much. The wet heat, her teeth grazing his bottom lip, and the way she rocked against his crotch. It hurt to touch her, just like the devil was supposed to react. He pushed, but she only held on tighter, digging her heels into his ass, twisting his hair in her fingers. Sparks of pleasure-pain skittered under his skin. She’d chosen him.

He didn’t want to want her. Wanting was a one-way ticket to disappointment.

She raked her fingers down his back, teasing the sliver of skin between his shirt and belt, and pressed her mouth to his ear. He shivered.

“Work with me.” She nipped him.

He could work. And if his body responded? Well, it was only biology. The hard-on straining against his zipper was as manufactured and packaged as the Dream Angel in his arms.

He lost himself in the pull and sway, forgot the crowd of people, the camera, the job. Forgot everything but the taste of her, the feel of her tight muscles under his palms, the tickle of feathers floating free.

He kissed her back, violent and hard, reclaiming what she’d taken: his choice. Her body softened, melted around him. She moaned, giving in, an unexpected surrender. He hadn’t missed the power she wielded over the whole production, a queen bee to her hive. But here she was gasping and shuddering in his arms, the rapid pulse against his chest like wings beating against glass. He ran his tongue along hers, savoring the honey and spice.

A sound came from the sides, an urgent whisper. They wanted him to stop. He even felt her lurch away, tugged by mechanical means, but he held tighter. They’d have to tear her away. They’d have to hurt her to do it. For one brief moment, he wasn’t letting go. Skin to skin, mouth to mouth. Heat to heat, and they’d both flown too close to the sun.

The music stopped.

He pulled back, breaking the kiss, but not the connection burning between them. “Why me?”

She blinked, hazy with lust. “Because you’re the demon.”

That’s my motivation. “No, why did you want me for this set. I know you did.”

He needed her to say it out loud. Because you owe me. Then he could be done. Then this could be filed away as one more task completed, one more favor repaid. Then he could ignore the sweet ache he felt at the thought of letting her go.