I know I’ve ranted about this one before. It’s not rockstar. It’s rock star. Two words. (Susan’s rubbing off on me, and not in good ways.) Actually, I’ve ranted twice.

SO glad people bother to care. Not over what I say, but over what’s RIGHT. Because when you get the basic shit wrong, you just look dumb. Or sloppy. Lazy.

Nothing good.

Anyway, on to today’s coveting book. Rockstar Daddy, by Taryn Quinn. Yes, the title’s going to make me go batshit every time I have to face it.

Badass rockstar hiding out in his isolated cabin in his hometown before his career blows up…biggest cliché ever.

Hot as hell chick who wrecks her car in my ditch? Ditto.

It’s New Year’s Eve, and we’re trapped together in a snowstorm. Hot chick is the small town sweetheart, but she’s honest and fun in a way I never expected.

She doesn’t know I’m a rockstar. So I lie to her. Because she’s seeing me for me, not the money or fame.

We end up naked. The night is incredible, the best of my life. Until I break her heart.

I’m not good enough for her. Not even close. But she makes me yearn…for everything.

Now this badass rockstar is going to be a daddy. And I need to convince the good girl to be mine.

For keeps.

Is that a metaphor? Hot as hell chick who wrecks her car in my ditch?

Asking for a friend, of course.

So is this really Rock Fiction, or is his career a convenient plot device?

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