tabloid breakup scandal quickly followed.
was embezzling my money.
called off our engagement the next day.
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.
connect with. The closer we get, the more powerful my feelings grow,
complicating our professional relationship.
man to stand by my side, undaunted by the fame and attention that trails
unyielding façade throughout heartbreak and betrayal. Perhaps it’s time to show
them the real me.
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.
Sunny Shelly’s Review: 3 Stars
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.
people with my favorite guitar strapped snug against me, I prepare to sing my
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.
a questionable food truck.
into the mic. Noise from the cheering fans is deafening, and like every time I
perform, the surreal quality never quite fades.
someone who eviscerated my heart entirely. My other relationships—and
subsequent failures—pale in comparison.
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.
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.”?
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
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.
my chin, willing myself to maintain composure. “It’s called ‘Embers.’”
me fades. My voice emerges from the shards scattered within my chest where my
working heart once was.
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.
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.