Book Title: David’s Disaster – Embrace the Fear 2 (The Road to Rocktoberfest 2022)
Author and Publisher: TL Travis
Cover Artist: Natasha Snow
Release Date: November 11, 2022
Genre: MM Rockstar romance
Heat Rating: 4 flames
It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.
Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited
For David Jordan life was close to perfect.
His band, Embrace the Fear, were living the rock ‘n roll dream as an up-and-coming band under Masterson Management. They weren’t rolling in the dough like the guys from Social and Maiden were, but things were good.
Outside of his love life that was.
David wasn’t a player, unless you count video games. He grew up in a middle-class family. Both his parents worked and were supportive of him in every way. To this day they were still head over heels in love with each other.
The one thing missing from David’s life was the same kind of connection his parents had.
But David’s needs were a bit unorthodox and not always welcome with guys closer to his age. Would an older man look past the number and trust David to take care of them—body and soul?
Jordan Wright has a thriving business thanks to being awarded the contract to manage the catering for Rocktoberfest for a second year.
He’s thrilled to be back at the venue again—maybe this is the year something special will happen, although he’s not counting on it.
Since Jordan’s last failed attempt at a relationship, he’s sworn only to engage in meaningless hook-ups.
But Jordan longs for a daddy of his own.
Will he ever be able to open his mind, and his heart, again? Enough to trust another man, not only with his body, but to catch him when he falls.
David’s Disaster is part of the multi-author The Road to Rocktoberfest 2022 series. Each book can be read as a standalone. Hot rockstars and the men who love them, what more could you ask for?
“Guinness in a bottle if you’ve got it?” I didn’t want to risk someone trying to roofie me, not that I wasn’t down for almost anything though I preferred to have my wits about me when it came time to perform. Sammie dug one out of the freezer, popped the top, and slid it my way. “Place is packed for a Sunday night.”
“Yeah, Joe’s got the dancers working Sundays now. They come in at nine,” Sammie said, wiping the counter between customers. Joe was Sammie’s partner, and they owned the club. Sammie managed the food and beverage staff while Joe oversaw operations, including the entertainment. Some of those boys’ moves should be illegal. “Looks like your entourage is here,” Sammie nodded toward the door. Following his line of sight, two very angry bodyguards shot daggers at me. “Here,” Sammie handed me a pass, “take this up to the mezzanine.”
I grabbed the red disc, “Thanks.” Just as I turned, two muscular hands gripped my forearms like vices.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Sikes asked.
Flashing the red card, I announced, “To the mezzanine, kind sir!” in the most terrible British accent I could’ve done. Accents clearly are not my forte. Sikes and Snipe groaned in unison but relinquished their grips. Sikes walked in front of me while Snipe held up the rear. Hehe, rear. If I made that joke to them, they’d likely knock me on my ass.
The bouncer manning the upper VIP level, or the mezzanine as Sammie had called it, nodded, snagged the card, then grunted. What was it with these overgrown protectors and grunting? I’m waiting for one of them to grab a rock and start drawing caveman-style all over the walls. How do they even understand each other?
It was much easier to breathe up here with a lesser body count though the music and vibrations still flowed. The view was fantastic, staring down at every sweaty, writhing body on the dance floor. This was front-row seating when the dancers hit the stage. “Would you like another drink, sir?” I turned to face the flirty voice, and there stood a five-foot-nothing cutie chewing his bottom lip and eyeing me like a lollipop. “Hello gorgeous, I’ll have one more, please.” He turned and winked over his shoulder, swinging those hips like the moneymakers they were. He knew the value of his…asset.
Maybe a dark, secluded storage room cocktail server ass was in the cards for me tonight.
Leaning over the iron mezzanine railing, lost in thoughts of the firm ass beneath the shiny black boy shorts fetching my drink, I scanned the overcrowded dance floor. Memories of once being able to be a part of it that seemed like so long ago when it really wasn’t. Our lives changed overnight by winning that Battle of the Bands competition. Did I miss not being a part of our old scene? Meh, not so much. The view from up here was much better, like having your pick of the crop. Lower level was all sweaty, grinding bodies. Most of the time, you couldn’t see past the face in front of you. No, I think I liked my odds from this angle much…
No, it isn’t.
“What the actual fuck?” I said loud enough for Sikes and Snipes to hear. Instantly, each large body took its place at my sides. There was no stopping this primal, animalistic need to seek and destroy. Alarms inside my brain actived, yet I couldn’t stop myself.
“Where’s the threat?” Sikes asked. Both sets of eyes scanned the floor for trouble.
Down the stairs I went, nearly bowling over the poor guy with the full drink tray heading in the opposite direction. I knew I wasn’t alone, though I couldn’t hear Sikes or Snipe’s footsteps. It amazed me how those two over-muscled guards could move like the wind. I'd descended upon my prey in fewer steps than it should’ve taken.
I swear, all life, all sound, all music stopped when the three of us hit the dance floor. Bodies moved aside, primarily out of fear of the two men who were with me, I’m sure. But I was locked on a specific target. Dumbass one and dumbass two blocking my path weren’t too bright. They hadn’t even noticed that everything around them had come to a stop as they continued to feel up the body tangled between them. “Enough!” I ordered.
“Hey man, we saw him first,” dumbass one said, coming toward me. Sikes and Snipe cut him off, and he threw his hands up in surrender. “We don’t want any trouble,” he pleaded as he and dumbass two backed away. At that point, said target turned, and our gazes met.
“What the fuck, David?”
About the Author
TL Travis is an award-winning published author of LGBTQIA+ contemporary romance and erotic musings that have earned “Best-Selling Author” flags in the US as well as Internationally.
When she’s not busy spinning steamy webs, she enjoys spending time with her family, going to concerts, wine tasting, and people watching. With every face, there’s a story and half the fun is dreaming up what it could be.
TL is surrounded by her extensive 4-legged rescue family, her sons, and adorable grandkids. She will continue saving furry friends in need for as long as she lives. TL would like to remind you to “Adopt, not shop.” Saving that lost soul may very well be the one you need.
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