Thursday, May 26, 2016

OWNED Lost in Oblivion #5 Cari Quinn & Taryn Elliott New Release, Giveaway and Review!


OWNED
Lost in Oblivion #5
Cari Quinn & Taryn Elliott
Releasing May 23rd, 2016
Rainbow Rage Publishing

BUY NOW

Enter to Win a $25.00 Amazon eGift Card and 
an ebook copy of MANACONDA

Music kept them going. Now it's torn them apart…

Guitarist Nick Crandall lost the most important thing in his life—his band—just as he was falling in love. A year has passed, and Oblivion is returning from hiatus. And Nick is ready to ask Lila to spend forever with him, even if he won't have his best friend at his side for the ceremony.

Simon has spent the past year trying to find his way back to the thing that sustained him in his darkest hours, then grew to be his biggest demon. Margo has been at his side, but she's tired of him denying his dreams. With her help, he’s ready to admit it’s showtime.

Perhaps he's even ready to stand up for his best friend…and face him on the stage that united them so long ago.

It’s do or die, one more time.

**The guys—and their women—are in the driver's seat in Owned, and the ride's gonna rock. This is the final book in the Lost in Oblivion rockstar series.**


ROCKED & TWISTED
Lost in Oblivion Boxed Set
Includes Books #1 - #2.5
NOW FREE


 Nick and Simon are still at it!    Simon is still dealing with his demons and singing (NOT!) and is hiding from facing whether his voice will work or not.  Nick is ready to punch his head off for putting the band on hiatus for a year.  As far as he is concerned, Simon has betrayed their friendship.

This is the final book in the series and we are getting a two-fer.  This is a Christmas story that will keep you in stitches and it is also the story as to what happened to this very promising band of musicians.

Lila is the Dragon Lady to the hilt!  Falling in love with Nick requires someone with her nerves of steel.  Bringing Nick home for the holidays is a brave move on her part.  Her daddy will literally peel his skin off if Nick hurts his little Lila.  You can imagine what Nick may be feeling as he prepares to ask for Lila's hand in marriage while hoping Lila's dad does not go for his shotgun.

Sensitive story, full of amusing moments, friendship, and reconciliation.  Not to be missed!


“Stop pouting.” Lila juggled Dylan on her lap as she unsuccessfully attempted to get him to drink from his bottle. The slightly feverish one kept shoving it away with an inhuman wail. “The babies are only here for a few hours.”
Nick nudged at the bassinette at his foot that held baby Axl. Not Rose, Axl William Adams Scotsman, the charge of Chloe and his former bandmate Snake. At least Axl was asleep, which meant he couldn’t call Nick “Da” for the moment.
Creepy as fuck. And a little bit cute, but still creepy.
“I’m not pouting.” Yeah, it kind of sucked he was certain Lila was referring to his pouting and not the babies. “Much.”
“Yes, you are, and may I remind you that Axl was a last minute addition? You could’ve told Chloe no.”
“It’s just a couple hours so she can go to a movie. No big deal.” Or it wouldn’t be, if he stopped bitching. “She already pays for a sitter so she can go to work every day. You know she has no family left.”
“I do. I also know you’re sweet on that kid and won’t admit it.”
Nick glanced up, prepared to have to defend himself against claims of Axl adoration when he caught the gleam in Lila’s eyes as she juggled bottle and squirming baby. Toddler now, as evidenced by the fact that when Dylan launched himself off her lap, he shambled like a drunk across the room to seize Spot, the cat.
And the cat’s tail.
Spot hissed and hightailed it under the couch, and Dylan immediately fell on his overall-clad butt and started to laugh.
At least someone was amused by Lila’s cat.
Nick glanced at Axl, who was slurping contentedly on his bottle with his eyes half closed. Dylan tended to run around like a lunatic and other than the occasional glance, Axl seemed to pay him no mind.
Smart kid.
“He’s not a bad baby,” Nick said finally. “As babies go.”
“No, he isn’t.”
“Anyway, you were the one who told Chloe we could take care of both of them. You don’t even like Chloe.”
“That’s not true.” But her eyebrows pinched together, meaning hell yes, it was so true.
Not that Nick fully blamed her, considering how Chloe had inadvertently caused some early strife in their relationship, though that fault belonged strictly with Lila’s PI-hiring stepson. Nick had never raised the subject of Michael’s inappropriate interest with Lila, because she would’ve raised a similar line of inquiry about Chloe—who Nick had, in fact, banged one single time way back in the dark ages of high school. It simply wasn’t worth the trouble.
Relationships were all about picking one’s battles. Since Michael didn’t seem to be harboring feelings in Lila’s direction now—or was smart enough to hide it when Nick could kick his ass—there was no point in dredging up old issues.
“Okay, let’s say you do like Chloe, which you do not, but let’s pretend. You still were the nice one who said she could drop off her baby and go watch some chick flick.”
“She’s a young mother. She deserves time to herself now and then. Besides, he’s so cute.” Lila scooped up Axl and dislodged the bottle from between his lips, therefore disrupting the baby harmony. He let out a howl that made Dylan’s eyes go wide as he again toddled to his feet.
“Had to do that, didn’t you?” Nick muttered, grabbing the remote. There was only one thing that would settle down the troops.
He surfed to the kids’ channel and some cartoon show about trains was on. Good enough. Dylan promptly fell back to his butt, in a near catatonic state as he stared unblinkingly at the TV.
On Lila’s lap, Axl continued to fuss.
Nick sighed. “Give him to me.”
Lila lifted a brow. “You think you can soothe this child better than I can?”
“I know it.” He didn’t want to sound smug, but some truths were self-evident. “The boy is a born rock and roller. I have ways of making him calm down you can’t imagine.”
“Is that so?”
“Oh, it’s so.” Nick made a gimme gesture with his hands. “Hand over the kid.”
She rose from the armchair and carted Axl over to Nick, placing him in Nick’s arms as gently as she might lay down a feather. But Axl was already bumping his butt and flailing his hands, because he knew what was coming next.
“Okay, okay, hang on. Gotta get you in position.” Nick picked him up and set him in a semi-sitting up, semi reclining pose against the pillow at the other end of the couch. Lila made a noise, already moving forward to guard him so he didn’t take a header off the side of the sofa.
Nick pretended to strum an imaginary guitar. That was all it took.
Axl squealed and pushed at Lila’s hands, his attention riveted as Nick launched into a rocking rendition of “Birthday” by the Beatles, complete with air guitar. Lila just stared.
Even the cartoon-catatonic Dylan inched closer to watch, his big blue eyes growing wider with every passing second. Clearly, he recognized what Nick was doing, since Dylan’s own father toted around a guitar as if it was an additional appendage.
When Nick finished, Dylan clapped his hands and Axl gave a toothless grin and bounced up and down. Nick recognized what he wanted.
More, more, more.
“You’re relentless, kid.” Shaking his head, Nick launched into another song that he’d discovered through trial and error that Axl enjoyed. “Fight for Your Right” by the Beastie Boys made Axl’s eyes wheel in his head and Dylan toddle forward to bang his chubby hands on the edge of the cushions.
When Nick finished, he glanced at Lila. She had her fist pressed to her mouth and appeared to be in physical distress.
“They like it,” he said uncertainly, wondering if he’d violated some essential child-rearing tenet without even knowing it.
No pleasure gained from rock music until at least kindergarten, unless you want the kid to end up in a band with a Mohawk and a joint clamped between his lips by the age of sixteen.


USA Today bestselling author Cari Quinn likes music and men, so she figured why not write about both? When she's not writing, she's screaming at men's college basketball games on TV, playing her music too loud or causing trouble. Sometimes simultaneously.

USA Today bestselling author Taryn Elliott is obsessed with rock stars, men, and her unending playlists--maximizing these things seemed like a very good idea. When she's not writing, she's losing hours to hot men on TV, and/or a graphic design project. Multitasking is her middle name.

They decided to combine forces and found that hey...this writing deal is even more awesome when you collaborate with your best friend.

And so Lost in Oblivion was born.



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