La romance de superstars de Kit et Noah est enfin là dans le tout nouvel opus sexy de Rock Kiss de Nalini Singh. Ce couple est clairement le plus attendu de la série et on en prend plein les yeux !! Mon avis dessus plus tard dans la soirée ❤
Il y a un concours pour une carte cadeau Amazon de $50 à la fin de l’article.
Avis : https://leschroniquesaleatoiresblog.wordpress.com/2015/10/07/rock-kiss-t3-rock-redemption/
Kit Devigny pourrait avoir aimé le guitariste rock Noah St. John. Leur amitié brûle avec la promesse d’une passion intense et d’une tendresse touchante… jusqu’à ce qu’une nuit Noah lui brise délibérément le cœur.
Noah sait qu’il a détruit quelque chose de précieux la nuit où il a choisit de trahir Kit, mais il préfère qu’elle le haïsse plutôt qu’elle apprenne son plus sombre secret. Tout ce qui lui reste est sa musique. C’est sa planche de salut, mais ça ne fait pas taire les voix qui le gardent éveillé le soir. Cherchant l’oubli à travers d’innombrables aventures d’un soir, il grappille quelques heures de repos et sa réputation de bad boy.
Quand une erreur des médias fait passer Noah et Kit pour « le » couple à suivre, Kit découvre la chance de sa vie en surfant sur la vague des médias. Désirant, ayant même besoin, de donner cela à Kit, même s’il ne peut pas tout lui donner, Noah accepter de jouer le rôle du petit-ami tendre. Seulement l’illusion devient tout à coup bien trop réelle, trop douloureuse, trop belle… et il pourrait être bien trop tard pour que Noah St. John ait sa rédemption.
Kit groaned at the sound of her phone. Reaching out blindly toward the nightstand, she hurled mental curses upon herself for forgetting to turn it off so she could catch some uninterrupted sleep before her four-a.m. makeup call.
It’d be fun and great for her career, her agent had said when recommending Kit take the superhero flick. Coming off two serious and emotionally wrenching projects, Kit had taken Harper’s advice and jumped on board the high-budget, high-octane venture. Unfortunately, Harper had forgotten to mention the four hours it would take to put her into the head-to-toe makeup required for the role. Daily.
“What?” she snarled into the phone without checking to see who it was.
Every cell in her body snapped wide awake. Lifting her eyelids, she just stared at the ceiling through gritty eyes. Her heart thumped, her throat moving convulsively as she swallowed. She hated that he could still do this to her, hated it, but her visceral response to Noah wasn’t something she could stop. She knew because she’d tried for the past two years and three months.
“Noah,” she said flatly. “Do you know what time it is?”
“Two fifteen,” he answered.
Kit should’ve hung up. God, he’d hurt her. So much. But there was something in his voice that had her sitting up. “Are you drunk?” One thing she knew about Noah: no matter his bad-boy rep, he was never wasted. He might give a good indication of it, but look closely and those dark gray eyes were always sober.
“Probably.” A silence, followed by, “I just wanted to hear your voice. Sorry for waking you.”
“Wait,” she said when he would’ve hung up. “Where are you?”
“Some dive.” He took a deep breath, released it in a harsh exhale. “I’m sorry for being an asshole. I wanted to tell you that. I don’t want to go without saying that.”
“Noah,” she said, a horrible feeling in her stomach. “Where exactly are you?”
“The Blue Flamingo Inn off Hollywood Boulevard. Far, far, far off.” He laughed, and it held no humor. “It has a neon sign of a blue—surprise!—flamingo that’s flashing right through my window. Looks like someone stole the curtains.”
Having already grabbed her laptop, which she’d left beside the bed after answering some e-mails before sleep claimed her, she found the Blue Flamingo Inn. But Noah was already gone, having said, “I love your voice, Kit,” in an oddly raw tone before hanging up.
He didn’t pick up when she called back.
“Damn it! Damn it!” She shoved aside the blanket under which she’d been buried, having turned the AC to ice-cold as she usually did at night. Shivering, she tugged on a pair of jeans and an old sweatshirt over the panties and tank top in which she’d gone to sleep.
Pulling her black hair into a rough ponytail to keep it out of her eyes, she ran through the house, phone in one pocket, credit card and driver’s license in the other. In the kitchen, she grabbed her keys off the counter and shoved her feet into the tennis shoes by the door that led to the garage.
She was in her car and on the way to the motel three minutes after Noah had hung up, mouth dry and an ugliness in her gut. “Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay,” she kept saying, the mantra doing nothing to calm her down, but at least it kept her mind focused.
She wanted to call Molly and Fox, or the others in the band, but no one was currently in the city. Schoolboy Choir had completed the final show in the band’s hugely successful tour just over two weeks earlier. Day after that, they’d all gone their separate ways to recharge and regroup.
“Much as I love these guys,” David had said with a grin that reached the dark gold of his eyes, “I’ve been looking at their ugly mugs daily for months. We need to go blow off some steam separately before we start snarling at each other.”
At the time, Kit had nodded in understanding, having had that same experience while working on location for long periods. Tonight, however, she wished the others were all here, not scattered across the country, because something was very wrong with Noah.
“Noah doesn’t do drugs,” she told herself as she drove as fast as she dared, not wanting to risk getting pulled over and further delayed. “He isn’t the kind to—” She couldn’t say it, couldn’t even think of Noah ending his life. “No,” she said firmly, her hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel. “Noah isn’t like that.”
Si vous voulez lire la suite de ce chapitre, ainsi que le suivant, cliquez sur ce lien : http://nalinisingh.com/books/rock-kiss-series/rock-redemption/
Ordre de lecture de Rock Kiss :
Rock Addiction (t1)
Rock Courtship (t1.5)
Rock Hard (t2)
Rock Redemption (t3)
Auteure de best-sellers du New York Times et du USA today, mai aussi des séries Psi-Changeling, Chasseuse de Vampires et Rock Kiss, Nalini Singh écrit habituellement sur des métamorphes chauds comme la braises et des anges dangereux. Cette fois-ci elle a décidé d’écrire sur un beau et charismatique guitariste au passé sombre. Si vousvoyez un thème ici, vous n’avez pas faux.
Concours (ouvert à l’international) :
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