(BRT) Manaconda by Taryn Elliott and Cari Quinn

Manaconda (Hammered, #1)  
Book Title: Manaconda
Series: Hammered 1
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Authors:  Taryn Elliott and Cari Quinn

Book Overview


My name is Hunter Jordan, lead singer of Hammered and no, I didn't name my cock Manaconda.


Rolling Stone did.


On the front cover of their damn magazine.


I still haven't lived it down. And now our record label wants to maximize the frenzy.


So, I have a brand new PR person–Kennedy McManus.


And she's making me insane.


I don't know whether to ignore her, yell at her, or push her up against the wall and kiss her smart mouth shut.


My Review

*ARC Provided for an Honest Review*

Okay, I would just like to point out that I was not expecting this book to be a cliff-hang. Yes it was sexy, it was fun, it was hot and the sex was without a doubt... I loved it. I just couldn't face the fact that I was soo down for that HEA and well of course I know I'd get that Happily Ever After. Eventually. But, I was getting on the good parts and I literally screamed when I read the words "To be continued" I was like, no nooooo. But the 26th isn't too far I guess.

The Story-line is funny and the characters are funny. I can't even decide which of the two has the easiest actions to read because I swear to gosh the confusion I felt towards Kenny is, well, confusing and with Hunter he is like a whole new level. What I absolutely love though is the fact that their attraction is too much for them to handle that sometimes it was also too much for me because I could feel the anticipation rising from me when their anticipation towards each other arises too. In short, I connected with it a whole lot.

This book is Definitely Recommendable to anyone who is looking for that hot and sexy read. When I first started reading it I kept on smiling and then the excitement starts building and up until now I could still feel that excitement. I even doubt this excitement would whether if I don't get my hands on the next book.

Excerpt



“Maybe we should go back.”

I shook my head. “Maybe we can sneak around. Seems like there wouldn’t be any fans back here.”

“Famous last words,” she muttered.

I strode out, gravel crunching under my boots.

“You know, I’m not a huge fan of this dragging me around like a child.”

I turned back to her, dragging her into my body. “Nothing child-like about you, Kenny.” I bent down to her, our noses touching. “I just want a little alone time with you.”

A loud engine started up.

“There’s an elevator back there.” She pointed with her thumb. “I bet we could do a lot of things in your room, my room—whatever.” She rose on her toes until our lips were a breath apart. “You can give that whole seven thing a go.” She dragged her nail over my bottom lip. “I don’t believe you’ll make it to seven, but I’m willing to let you try.”

“I—”

“Oh, my God, that’s Hunter!”

The hiss of hydraulics and stomp of many feet did not bode well.

I closed my eyes. “Shit.”

“What?”

“Please don’t be what I think it is.”

“What?”

A trio of people in black shirts with our new album on the front were standing in front of a huge bus. “Can you run in those things?”

She looked affronted. “I can do anything in heels.”

“I hope so.”

A woman in her twenties pointed our way. “Is that him?” she shrieked.

“Fan club.”

“What?”

“This is where the fan club bus is parked.”

“They should be at dinner. Why aren’t they at dinner?” Kenny asked with rising panic.

“Guess it’s over.” I sprinted to the door we’d just come out of. “Son of a bitch.” I twisted the handle but nothing. “It must have locked after us.”

She slapped the keypad. “Ya think?”

“Not helping.” I darted a look past the bus, along with the line of at least seventy people lined up to board. Definitely couldn’t go that way.

“They’ll eat you alive.”

“No kidding.”

Three women broke off from the crowd and headed our way. As soon as they did, twenty more followed. I dragged Kenny with me to the front of the bus and around the side. The bus driver looked down at us and shook his head.

No help there.

The people that had boarded the bus were pointing at us as we ran to the other end. I shot by another line of cars and zig-zagged around another bus and saw a familiar logo. “Thank God.”

“Where did he go?” Came shouts that were way too close.

“Where are we going?” she hissed.

“My bus.”

“Your bus?”

I dragged her behind me as I ducked behind a black truck we used for our equipment. It has been a stripped down stage, but we still had a lot of instruments between Keys’s pianos, the entire percussion set up that Wyatt used, all the guitars, amps, and digital network we used—we needed a truck no matter what.

“New plan.” I unlatched the back of the rig and lifted the rolling door. “Get in.”

“Are you freaking kidding me?”

I stared down at her. “Does it look like I’m kidding?”

She groaned. “I can’t get up there.”

I lifted her until her knee was on the base of the truck ledge. She scrambled in as the scraping of heels and running feet got closer.

“Move it, Kenny.”

Her skirt rode up as she dragged herself inside. I threw her a soft whistle. She turned back to me with murder in her eyes. I squashed down a laugh, rolling in after her, tugging the door down behind me with a bang.

“I hate you.”

I just smiled into the dark.


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