Title BEATING IN TIME
Author M.J. Schiller
Genre Rock romance, Romantic suspense, Beach romance
Publisher Kissmet Publishing
Book Blurb
Once upon a time, their hearts beat as one…
Drummer Levi Cannon knows that all the platinum records in the world won’t fill the Remi-sized hole in his heart.
I left Last Chance Beach and Remington Lawson behind when I took my shot at fame and fortune, but I had no idea what I was sacrificing. Now that a fundraiser has brought me home, I want more than anything to win her back. But it’s been eight years. There may be a bridge that connects the island to the mainland, but am I a fool to think that I can build something that will span the chasm of all those years?
Remi Boyd knows that her love for her brother’s best friend has never died.
But what kind of fool would I be to trust him again after he broke my heart? I was a child when he left. Now I’m a woman who’s been a wife and I’m also a mother to the most precious girl in the world. I can’t drag her through some torrid affair, and that is clearly all Levi can offer me.
Music took him away. Music brought him back. But is it too late to recapture what they once had? Or can Last Chance Beach work its magic for them?
Excerpt
Levi
A crescendo of noise rose from the dance floor and we looked over. Someone had slid a folding chair over to the blonde and she was up on it, dancing her heart out, facing the other direction. She peeled off the unbuttoned, long-sleeved black blouse she wore over a skimpy black, midriff-baring tank top. The motion of it falling from her shoulders stirred me even more. She swirled it above her head like a lasso before wrapping it around her partner and pulling him into her. She quickly released him and dropped it on the chair then planted her high heel—black, with strings that criss-crossed and wrapped around her leg—on his shoulder with her knee bent, then shoved him away. The crowd had circled around them and was getting into it, whooping and woof-whistling encouragement. The guy grabbed her legs and whirled around with her then loosened his grip so that she slowly slid to the floor.
“Who is that blonde with the body that won’t stop?” I said loudly.
“That’s Remi.”
It felt like the floor had dropped out from under me. “Remi?”
“How many Remis do you know?” Dak answered. “Remi Lawson.”
Wyatt’s little sister. So many emotions hit me at once I froze—like a cat walking across a keyboard, the flurry of input jammed up my brain. The level of shock was threefold. One, to see her in the first place. Two, to see her looking so hot. Three, to see her with a guy’s hands on her.
As he held her by the hips she bent backward with a hand on her head and whipped her hair around twice. Before she rose, she caught my eye and gave me this sexy smile that shot immediately to my gut. She straightened and spun. Though I couldn’t hear her, I could read her lips, and she called out my name, taking a step toward me. Marco yanked her back against him. My gaze zeroed in on his hand, splayed on her pelvis, and, well, I lost it.
I must have gotten rid of my cup, because I didn’t have it when I got to her. I heard her say, “Oh, shit,” but my focus was on Marco. I grabbed her arm and jerked her away from him.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Marco hauled her back in. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he rejoined. “Get your own.”
I snatched her back. “Can’t you see she’s not old enough?”
Without looking at her, his jaw tight, he said, “You’re eighteen, aren’t ya, hon? That’s what you said.”
“Yeah. I’m—”
She’s eighteen?
Marco smirked. “A legal adult.” He tried to make another move for her, but I shifted to block him.
I licked my lips. “There’s more to it than age of consent, you asshole.”
“Like what?”
“Levi. Let me go.” Remi wrenched herself free but the quick motion caused her to stumble and turn her ankle. She fell against some other guy, whose quick reflexes kept her from hitting the ground.
“Have you been drinking?” I spat, concerned at first, then angry. Before she could deny it, I said, “You’ve been drinking.” I turned on Marco. “Did you get her a drink?”
He blinked. “Uhh…”
I got up in his grill, our chests bumping. “You put anything in that drink, Marco?”
“No,” he said a little bit more quickly than I liked. Although a pause would have added even more concern.
I tried to read him, my fists clenching and unclenching. “You sure the hell better not have, or you’re going to be in a world of hurt when I get back.” I latched on to Remi. “Come on.” I started marching with her to the door.
“What are you doing?” she mumbled. She was definitely trashed.
“Taking you home.”
“I remember when you used to be fun,” she said petulantly. She shook me off.
Pissed, I made an attempt to grab her again.
“Nope.” She evaded my hands and tried to rush away from me, but I lunged and latched around her waist. She giggled at first, but started kicking and screaming at about the time we reached the door. “I’m not leaving. You can’t tell me what to do.”
I tightened my grip. Jerking my head at the door, I barked, “Open it.” The couple from earlier scurried out of my way, the guy cracking the door open as he bailed. I was starting to sweat.
Remi stomped her shoe on the ground and flailed. “Stop.”
“You stop,” I countered maturely, finally getting her out the door and closing it behind me.
“Can’t you see I’m not a kid anymore?”
Hell, yeah, I can see that.
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Nook book: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/beating-in-time-m-j-schiller/1142904265?ean=2940186568353
Author Biography
M.J. Schiller is a retired lunch lady/romance-romantic suspense writer. She enjoys writing novels whose characters include rock stars, desert princes, teachers, futuristic Knights, construction workers, cops, and a wide variety of others. In her mind everybody has a romance. She is the mother of a twenty-eight-year-old and three twenty-six-year-olds. That's right, triplets! So having recently taught four children to drive, she likes to escape from life on occasion by pretending to be a rock star at karaoke. However…you won’t be seeing her name on any record labels soon.
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