Today, we have Frances Fox here to share an excerpt from her most recent release, Sounds Complicated, so read on!

RELUCTANT ROCKSTAR

Book #2 of the Reluctant Rockstar series

Author: Frances Fox
Editor: Lourenza Adlem
Release: 15th August 2023
Price: $3.99
ISBN: 9798223112495
ASIN: B0C4Q29SS5
KU: No
Wide: Yes
Series: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C4Q8WZYZ
Amazon: https://a.co/d/cj0YBDy
UBL: https://books2read.com/SoundsComplicated
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/151648521-sounds-complicated

KEYWORDS

MM, Rockstar, Contemporary, British, Hurt-Comfort, Opposites Attract, Spicy.

TAG LINE

A pining drummer and a snarky sound engineer have been walking around each other for months…

BLURB

Heggarty’s Bow drummer, Mordant, sticks firmly to the adage ‘don’t screw the crew’. He’s seen bands crash and burn over something like that before and he’d rather not risk the band dynamic. However, he knows he’s attracted to the charms of Pink the sound engineer and he’d determined to keep him at a distance. He’s got no interest in becoming just a notch on his bedpost, anyhow.
Pink is surprised and a bit hurt that Mordant makes no secret of avoiding him like the plague. Mordant’s a quiet, laid back guy most of the time, but he only interacts with Pink to criticise his work. Pink’s decided it’s best to just try to ignore him. He’s got enough history with moody blokes that he doesn’t need to take on any more trouble. He just needs to get on with things.
When one of Pink’s exes shoves him and he falls down the stairs at work, though, he’s surprised to find Mordant the one who volunteers to take care of him. Mordant is surprised as well. Where will the two of them go from here?

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Frances Fox writes contemporary MM romance. The Rockstar series is a new eight-book series of novellas following the musicians, stage-crew and friends of Heggarty’s Bow. If you like to read spicy MM stories about vulnerable guys looking for love, she’ll have you covered.

Website: https://francesfoxbooks.co.uk
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/francesfoxbooks
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/frances-fox-e6fb0220-5282-4101-8467-cb11684c9176
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B0C4SY2W4S
Newsletter: https://subscribepage.io/He2jKq

EXCERPT

Chapter 1: Pink
Fuck. Pink could see the steps coming up to meet him as he twisted sickeningly in mid-air. Should he put his arms out to break his fall? Or not?
In the end he couldn’t stop himself. It was pure reflex. He heard his wrist break as his palm hit the floor and he swore as he slid forward down the remaining stairs.
Fuck. Arse. Shit. Wank-fuck-bollocks. That was going to hurt.
Sure enough, as he tumbled to a halt at the foot of the steps, splayed on his back like a latter-day Omega Man, looking up at the stage, the pain kicked in and he swore aloud.
“Fuck!” he said, lying there for a moment whilst the auditorium spun around him. “Ow! Ow ow ow!” His head hurt, too.
What the hell had happened? One moment he’d been taping the cables down to the steps and arguing in a low voice with Ant, who’d been trying to persuade him to go on another date…and then he’d been falling. Had…had Ant shoved him? He couldn’t remember.
He started to sit up, pushing up on the elbow of his good arm and blinking dizzily, but a hand landed firmly on his chest and held him still.
“Stay there,” a voice he recognised said.
He blinked again. “Mordant?” he queried.
“Yeah,” said Mordant. “Stay put, will you? I’m calling an ambulance.” The hand disappeared.
“What?” Pink said, outraged, struggling to sit up and failing. “Don’t do that! I’m fine!”
He collapsed back onto the floor, making a liar of himself.
Mordant looked at him, one eyebrow raised in that annoying way he had, and continued dialling. “Yeah, hello, ambulance, please,” he said. “The Fallow Arena…stage door. Someone’s fallen and hit his head…”
Pink stopped listening. Had he hit his head? He raised his non-hurty hand to feel his forehead and his fingers came away sticky. Oh. That was probably why he felt a bit dizzy then. Fuck, his other arm hurt.
“Ow,” he said, again, plaintively.
Mordant patted his chest reassuringly, still on the phone to the ambulance people.
Things went a bit blurry again for a while after that, but he was conscious throughout of Mordant’s big hand on his chest, warm through his thin t-shirt. “Stay with me, Pink,” he said at one point, patting his face gently. “Keep your eyes open, Sunshine.”
Pink struggled…it would be so very easy to drift off to sleep and if he was asleep, he wouldn’t be hurting. Then he blinked, suddenly wide awake. “Sunshine?” he said. “What?” Not a word normally in Mordant’s lexicon, specially where Pink was concerned.
His face drifted above Pink’s against the hazy background of the high Arena roof. “What?” His expression was innocent.
“You called me Sunshine,” Pink explained earnestly, trying to focus his vision.
“Nope!” Mordant widened his brown eyes in fake disbelief. “I did not. That’s not something I call anyone!” Let alone Pink, was the unspoken corollary.
Pink shook his head and then winced. “I know what I heard, Mordant. You did!”
Mordant gave him a small smile. “Keep your eyes open, Pink,” he said. “They won’t be long now.” He spoke into the phone again. “Yeah, he’s still awake and talking sense. Mostly. Five minutes, okay. I’m going to hang up. I’ll have to ring security and tell them they’re on their way. Okay. Thanks. Bye.”
He glanced down at Pink and then up to someone Pink couldn’t see. “Yeah, actually, could you go and tell the gate? And tell them where to come?”
Pink was suddenly aware that there was a ring of people around them, a respectful distance away, but still. Some of the other techs and the bass player of the Purple Lizards. None of the other Heggarty’s Bow people that he could see, though.
“Bollocks,” he muttered. “What am I? The support act?”
“Shhh,” Mordant said, patting his chest again. “They’re worried, that’s all. You went down with quite a crack.”
“Send them away,” Pink said, shutting his eyes. “They’re looking at me.”
“Keep your eyes open,” Mordant told him firmly. “And you lot, bugger off. The show’s over. The ambulance guys are here.”
After that it was all can you move your thumb? and how many fingers am I holding up? and who’s the Prime Minister?
“That fucker!” Pink replied, which must have been good enough, as the EMT peering into his eyes with a little light laughed at him and said, “That’ll do, you’ve got all your marbles!” She switched off her mini-torch and stuck it back in the pocket of her overalls, continuing, “I want to take you in, though. I think you’ve got a bit of a concussion. And that wrist is broken.”
Pink grumbled under his breath but there wasn’t much he could do about it with Mordant glaring at him from behind her shoulder. “Do I have to?” he whined, as they discussed getting a stretcher. “I can walk,” he told them.
“Uh-uh.” The EMT shook her head. “You’ve got a head injury. Let us get you on the stretcher.” He looked at her pathetically and she said, “Humour me, all right?” before turning to Mordant and asking, “Are you coming with him?”
Mordant looked momentarily nonplussed, but before Pink could tell them he didn’t need anyone, he said, “Yeah, I will. I’ll need to tell Pete, hang on—” and stepped out of Pink’s sight.
“Come on then,” the bossy EMT said. “Let’s get you on this thing.”
They helped him to his feet and he was pleased for the aid. As he came upright, he was overcome with a wave of nausea that had nothing to do with the pain in his wrist, now wrapped in a soft, supportive splint. It was entirely down to the sickening, shifting sensation in his head. “I’m going to throw up,” he announced.
The second EMT expertly manoeuvred him so when he chucked up it was on the floor, not all over himself. He was shaking by the time he’d finished. Someone offered him a bottle of water and he took a sip and handed it back, before realising it was Mordant. Damn. He didn’t want anyone who knew him to have seen that. Too late now.
“Come on, let’s get you lying down again,” Bossy EMT said. “You’ll feel better then.”
He did as he was told, although she was lying, he didn’t feel better at all, he felt swimmy and hot and cold and nauseous. “I feel a bit odd,” he told her.
“Not surprised mate, you’ve got quite a bump on your noggin. You’re fine, though, just stay put and we’ll sort you out. Shut your eyes, we’ll wake you up when we need to check you, all right?”
“So he didn’t need to keep me awake?” Pink muttered.
“Don’t blame me,” he heard Mordant say. “I was only doing what the lady on the phone told me.”
“Huh,” Pink said.
He felt much better with his eyes shut. It was annoying not to be able to see Mordant, though. “You don’t need to come,” he told him again. “I’m fine. You need to get on and do the show. I gave you an extra monitor,” he told him. “You always bitch about the monitors. I found another one for you.”
He felt a hand pat his own. “I noticed,” Mordant said, looking gravely down at him as he opened his eyes. “It was very kind of you, thank you.”
“You’re only being kind to me because I’ve hurt my head,” Pink told him. “You don’t usually call me Sunshine.”
“I didn’t,” Mordant told him. “You imagined it. You’ve got a head injury.”
“I don’t want you to come,” Pink said. “I don’t want you to see me when I’m ill. You don’t like me anyway. It’ll make it worse.”
Mordant coughed. “Shut your eyes again,” he said. “You can now, remember?” He patted Pink’s hand again. “Do you want me to call anyone for you?”
Pink shook his head and then winced. “No,” he said. “No, thanks. No point worrying anyone. Mum and Dad live in Cornwall; they’d want to come up and it’s a stupid long way. Leave them be.”
“Boyfriend?” Mordant asked.
“No,” Pink replied shortly. “No-one. Stop fussing. Stay and do the show.”
“There’s hours yet,” Mordant replied comfortably. “I’ll come. It’ll be fine.” He turned to the paramedic. “I’ll go and get my kit and meet you at the wagon, all right?”
The paramedic nodded, talking to Mordant over Pink as if Pink wasn’t there. “Yeah, we’ll wait,” she said and looked down at Pink again. “Come on then, matey, let’s get you loaded.”

Frances Fox is sharing a little about Reluctant Rockstar which is out today! 🥳 It’s the first in a new contemporary M/M romance series about rockstars – in case you missed the rockstar part 😉 If you grab it today, you’ll get it for $0.99, but tomorrow the price will increase.

RELUCTANT ROCKSTAR

Book #1 of a new series
Author: Frances Fox
Editor: Lourenza Adlem
Release: 1st August 2023
Price: $2.99
ISBN: 9798223337904
ASIN: B0C4R8Y6ND
KU: No
Wide: Yes
Series: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C4Q8WZYZ
Amazon: https://a.co/d/dh2pc3b
UBL: https://books2read.com/ReluctantRockstar
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/152004756-reluctant-rockstar

KEYWORDS

MM, Rockstar, Contemporary, British, Hurt-Comfort, Opposites Attract, Spicy.

TAG LINE

The first book in an exciting new contemporary MM series! A tired rock star and a judgemental gardener…what could possibly go wrong?

BLURB

The Purple Lizards are a rock world phenomenon, but lead singer Martin’s tired of his rock-and-roll persona. He’d rather be at home with his garden. When he gets home from tour he finds his gardener has had a heart attack and Simon, his grandson, is helping him out. Simon’s different to Fred. He talks, for a start. Martin and Fred have a perfectly functional friendship based on long silences and discussions about heritage vegetables. Simon talks about personal things as well. It makes Martin prickly.
Simon’s at a bit of a loss. He stepped up to help his grandfather whilst he was in hospital despite his misgivings about the absent Martin. But Fred clearly likes him, which is unusual for a start. Fred prefers plants to people. That he actively likes a rock star who used to smash up hotel rooms is really strange. Simon’s reserving judgement. Apparently the band have a break in their tour coming up. He’ll see whether he can work for the man once he’s spent some time with him.
A tired rock star and a judgemental gardener…what could possibly go wrong?

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Frances Fox writes contemporary MM romance. The Rockstar series is a new eight-book series of novellas following the musicians, stage-crew and friends of Heggarty’s Bow. If you like to read spicy MM stories about vulnerable guys looking for love, she’ll have you covered.

Website: https://francesfoxbooks.co.uk
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/francesfoxbooks
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/frances-fox-e6fb0220-5282-4101-8467-cb11684c9176
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B0C4SY2W4S
Newsletter: https://subscribepage.io/He2jKq

EXCERPT

Chapter 1: Martin

Martin was exhausted. He’d been hoping the Green Room was empty so he could sit in the quiet for a while and not have to think or engage with anyone. He really wasn’t up for any sort of argument.
However. The sound of a raised voice that penetrated into the corridor through the not-quite-shut door gave him the heads up that his solitary break wouldn’t be happening. He stood with his hand on the door handle, listening. It was Ken, he thought. He couldn’t make out the other voice.
He switched on his phone’s record function and held it to the crack in the door.
“I’ll go to the papers,” Ken was saying. “They’ll be interested to know the great Pete Heggarty is fucking a bloke!” He was slurring a bit. He did that a lot these days.
Heggarty…Martin presumed it was Heggarty…said something too quiet to hear. Ken’s voice got even louder. “You’ll sign up if you know what’s good for you. I’ve given you enough time to bring those dip-shit band members of yours round. Else everyone will know.”
Martin sighed and pushed open the door. “That’s enough,” he said quietly, with as much authority as he could summon. He stepped into the small room. “Ken. You’re fired. Get your things and leave. I’m emailing the agency now saying you’re no longer our manager. I’m citing bullying and intimidation.”
Ken opened his mouth to reply, but Martin held up his phone. “I recorded you. Out.” He jabbed at the open door into the corridor behind him with a vicious thumb.
Ken opened his mouth to reply, took another look at Martin’s expression, and shot out the door, muttering under his breath.
Martin looked at Pete Heggarty, sat in one of the saggy armchairs of the Green Room. He looked irritated, but not distressed. “How long’s that been going on?” he asked him, closing the door behind him and then flopping loose-limbed and tired into the neighboring armchair. He rested his head back against the chair cushions. God, that was good.
Heggarty sighed, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “A couple of months,” he said. “Since we started the tour, more or less.” He paused and then added, “Thanks. I was getting to the stage where thumping him was beginning to look like the only way to shut him up. He wouldn’t leave it.”
“My pleasure,” Martin said, trying to cover up his exhaustion with the whole situation. Not just today…but the whole tour. His whole professional life. “Arsehole. I’ve not been happy with him for months…he’s got a coke habit that would put a member of parliament to shame and I think he’s started gambling. I stopped trusting him when someone came round last year debt collecting for some online casino. No loss. Although now I need to find us a new manager. I’ve been putting it off, that’s all.”
“He wanted me to sign us up with them on a ridiculously prescriptive contract,” Heggarty said, coming alive a bit and sitting forward in the chair to put his elbows on his knees. “It’s not just me that makes choices for Heggarty’s Bow though—even if I cared that he’d out me to the press as bi. Try that blackmail shit with Lindy and he’d end up with a broken nose.”
Martin stifled a snort. “I didn’t think you were exactly closeted anyway,” he said.
“Well no. I just do my thing,” Heggarty said. “You’re right…he must have been permanently high as a kite not to notice it wasn’t the lever he thought it was.”
He paused.
“I haven’t had the chance to thank you for picking us up as your support on this tour,” he finally went on slightly more awkwardly, rubbing his hands on his jeans-clad knees. “Er. I…we…we really appreciate it. It’s our big break.”
Martin shook his head, uncomfortable with the thanks. “No,” he said, “that’s all right. Don’t thank me. It’s mutually beneficial, after all. Lots of fans are buying tickets to see you, rather than us. Another couple of years and you’ll be headlining and we’ll be supporting you.” He grinned at Heggarty reassuringly. “That’s the way these things go.”
Heggarty nodded, accepting the brush-off gracefully. “You’re right,” he said. “But still. We’re having a great time. It’s a whole new world for us; we’ve not worked with anyone as big as the Lizards before. Quite the eye-opener.” He grinned at Martin. “Even if the wild-boys reputation doesn’t seem to be all it’s cracked up to be.”
Martin laughed. “Maybe when we were younger,” he said. “But these days…after we lost Dave…the rest of us decided to rein things in a bit.”
Heggarty nodded. “I can see that,” he said.
Martin shivered, remembering. Dave had like to party. Drowning in a swimming pool whilst high had made him a footnote in the annals of rock history and landed the Purple Lizards with a reputation for wild behaviour that still followed them fifteen years later.
“These days…” Martin said. “These days it’s a job more than anything. We’re all about the music. And in between, I like to go home and look after my garden.” He shot Heggarty a tired sideways grin. “Don’t tell the press, though,” he said.
Heggarty laughed. “Your secret’s safe with me,” he said. He looked at his watch. “I need to go and find the others,” he said. “I suppose we should actually talk about getting a manager at this point, rather than sorting things out ourselves.”
Martin sighed. “Yeah,” he said. “I did find it freed up quite a bit of space in my head when we handed the booking and admin over to someone else. That’s a conversation I need to have with Ginny and Pin and Crow as well now.” He pulled a face. “We were already kicking a change around… I was going to get Steve Petrie over for a chat at some point. No time like the present. Do you want a chat with him too?”
“Steve Petrie? He’s a bit high-powered for us I should think.”
Martin shook his head. “Nah, mate. Don’t sell yourself short. No harm meeting him and sizing him up. He’s a nice guy—he’ll tell you straight whether he thinks you’re a good fit.”
Heggarty nodded. “If you don’t mind, then yes please,” he said. “I’ll go and tell the others. Hopefully Ken will have got enough of a head start that Lindy won’t be up on charges for assault.”
Martin chuckled quietly as the other man left the room. He hadn’t spent much time with the members of Heggarty’s Bow, but they seemed like nice kids. They did appear very much like kids to him though…a good fifteen years younger than Martin’s colleagues, mid-twenties at the most. Not the crazy rock-and-roll stereotypes the Purple Lizards had been at that age. He shuddered. He didn’t ever want to go back to that. It hadn’t been a good time.
He was looking forward to this break in the tour before they did the Japanese leg. Three weeks home with his garden and the soothing company of Fred his elderly gardener was just what the doctor ordered to get over his irritation with Ken and the impending exhaustion that inevitably came with a long tour. And this was a big one. It was true what he’d told Pete Heggarty…Heggarty’s Bow were crowd-pullers, with a large and growing fan base. The Lizards had been lucky to get them as a support band. In another couple of years they’d be headlining this sort of tour.
Martin wished he wasn’t so permanently fed up with it all. All the time he was on tour he craved the peace and quiet of his home; and when he was at home he dreaded going out on tour again. Anyway. It was what it was. He just needed to put one foot in front of the other. He got out his phone and messaged his fellow band members concisely. Just found Ken blackmailing Pete Heggarty. Sacked him. Shall I ring Steve Petrie? I’m in the Green Room. Want to go for a coffee somewhere and discuss?
There, that should put the cat among the pigeons. He stood by for the first irate text, but Pin beat Ginny to it and rang him. He grinned as he picked up the call. “Coffee?” he said.
“Yeah, you bet,” Pin said. “That man was always an arsehole and he’s only got worse over the last couple of years. Crow and I are in the coffee shop over the road from the venue. Want to meet us there? I’ll message Ginny.”
“Sure,” Martin said. “I’m on my way.”
No solitary time for him today.