Sunny Shelly’s Review: Too Good At Goodbyes, by R.C. Boldt



Title: Too Good at Goodbyes
Author: RC Boldt
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: October 29, 2019
First Top 40 hit at age seventeen? My first
tabloid breakup scandal quickly followed. 
Earned my first Grammy? Discovered Mommy Dearest
was embezzling my money. 
Landed a leading role in a movie? My fiancé
called off our engagement the next day.
I might have a multi-million-dollar recording contract, a
sold-out world tour, and more money in the bank than I ever imagined, but every
time I hit a milestone in my career, my personal life suffers.
Then in steps my new bodyguard, rugged and with a past I
connect with. The closer we get, the more powerful my feelings grow,
complicating our professional relationship.
I thought Kane would be different. I hoped he’d be the one
man to stand by my side, undaunted by the fame and attention that trails
The press calls me the “Ice Princess of Pop” because of my
unyielding façade throughout heartbreak and betrayal. Perhaps it’s time to show
them the real me. 
With every syllable, I pour out my emotions and allow them
to puddle, forming lyrics from my soul’s breath. And with each word, my broken
heart cries out for Kane, begging him to help me break this pattern.
To help me stop being so damn good at goodbyes.


Purchase Links




Sunny Shelly’s Review: 3 Stars

I’ve read several other RC Boldt books and loved them. Kane appeared briefly in a few, so I was excited to see him get his own story. And while I loved everything about him — I adore an alpha hero with a vulnerable side, and Kane wears his heartbreak like an ugly badge — I just didn’t like him and Simone.

And I’m not even sure why. The first few chapters dragged for me, which is usually a sign that the rest of the book will as well. And again, I liked Kane from the start. But I just didn’t connect with Simone, and as a result wasn’t all that invested.

The story gives an interesting look at the other side of celebrity: the dirty, lonely side that the general public doesn’t get to see amongst the glitz and glamour. I’ll come back to this book again at some point, I’m sure, and hopefully give it another go. I received an advanced copy and voluntarily left a review.

Copyright @2019 by RC BOLDT
Present Day
The Super Bowl Halftime Performance
Hard Rock Stadium
Miami Gardens, Florida
Facing what’s estimated to be over sixty-seven thousand
people with my favorite guitar strapped snug against me, I prepare to sing my
final song.
Standing up here in front of thousands of fans is second
nature. I performed in countless dive bars before breaking onto the scene and
securing my first record deal, then moving on to sold-out world tours. Which
means I shouldn’t have sweaty palms like a preteen working up the nerve to talk
to her crush.
My heart shouldn’t be racing like a horse competing in the
Kentucky Derby.
My stomach shouldn’t churn as though I’ve eaten ceviche from
a questionable food truck.
Tremors shouldn’t affect my hands like a virgin embarking on
their deflowering.
None of this should be afflicting me. But it is.
Because of him.
Because of the current state of my heart.
But this is how I deal with heartache. With tragedy. With…life.
“This is a little different, and I hope you like it,” I rasp
into the mic. Noise from the cheering fans is deafening, and like every time I
perform, the surreal quality never quite fades.
Tonight marks the first time I’ll share a song I wrote about
someone who eviscerated my heart entirely. My other relationships—and
subsequent failures—pale in comparison.
It’s no secret that love and broken hearts inspire great
songwriting. With regard to the latter, it’s never hard to find someone
mourning an unrequited love, suffering heartache, or wishing they’d find their
own glorified everlasting love.
But have you noticed when male musicians write about it,
they’re never on the receiving end of the snide, sarcastic comments of, “Oh,
poor thing. He’s rich and famous and can’t find love. Boo-freaking-hoo.”?
Yet when I write lyrics that are the closest thing to
ripping out my heart and putting it on display for the world, I receive the
“She’s probably selfish and put her career first” or “She probably cheated, and
now she’s regretting it” or “Mm. So sad. The Ice Princess of Pop is
My response? Fuck that noise. I’m writing from my heart and
soul, regardless of how damaged they might be at any given time. And as long as
my fans continue to support me, I’m going to keep on keepin’ on.
“I’d like to dedicate this song to a special person.” I duck
my chin, willing myself to maintain composure. “It’s called ‘Embers.’”
Once I strum the first note on my guitar, everything around
me fades. My voice emerges from the shards scattered within my chest where my
working heart once was.
When I play that final chord, I see tears streaming down the
faces of the fans in the front rows. And yet again, I’m reminded of something
all too easily forgotten. That there are others who can relate to lyrics
written from my soul’s breath.
Because in heartache, we’re never truly alone.
Author Bio


RC Boldt
currently lives on the southeastern coast of the U.S., enjoys long walks on the
beach, running, reading, people watching, and singing karaoke. If you’re in the
mood for some killer homemade mojitos, can’t recall the lyrics to a particular
80’s song, or just need to hang around a nonconformist who will do almost
anything for a laugh, she’s your girl.
Author Links


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