Book Title: If Tomorrow Never Comes (Part 1 & 2)
Author: Sophie Slade
Genre: Erotic Contemporary Romance
Release Date: January 15, 2016
Cover Credit for If Tomorrow Never Comes, by: Sophie Slade:
Alyssa Collins Pic:
Photographer: Jamie Saveal Photography
Model: Nycole Craft
Cover Design: TNT Book Cover Designs
Cover Design: TNT Book Cover Designs
Logan pic and back cover pic: Depositphotos.com
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions
On her way to Nashville to try her hand at a singing career, Alyssa Collins meets Logan Ambrose, her soul mate in every way. Not only is he a great singer and guitar player, he has a down-to-earth personality to die for. Soon, he proposes and they make plans for the future, but everything changes in an instant. A month later, she wakes from a coma only to learn that her life has changed forever.
Lost and distraught, Alyssa tries to make sense of her life. Needing to make a change, she puts her singing career behind her and finds herself in law school. Ten years later, she is a lawyer at a prestigious firm.
When Alyssa goes to New York for a political fund raiser, something happens that changes her life again. With more questions than answers, can she find it in herself to go on with her life … if tomorrow never comes?
“The hell with it,” I said as I screwed up my courage and pulled the door abruptly open.
The music immediately rushed to my ears as I stepped in and shut the door gently behind me. The lead guitarist’s fingers flew over the neck of his electric guitar, sending a thrill through me as the music penetrated my soul. Beside him, the bass and rhythm guitar players kept time with the beat of the drummer, as if it were no effort. They were good. Really good.
The drummer looked up. Eyeing me from across the room, he immediately stopped. “May I help you?”
The others stopped and looked up. It was only natural that they didn’t know me.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I said, setting my guitar case onto a nearby table. I pulled out my guitar and slid the strap across my shoulders. Then, I picked up a pick.
“So, you’re part of the band, too?” the lead guitarist asked, laughing without humor. “Craig told me that it would just be us.” He ran his fingers through his shoulder-length blond streaked hair and shook his head. The rhythm guitarist rolled his eyes at the blond, as if used to his objections.
I suppressed a smile and let my fingers fly down the neck of my plugged in acoustic guitar.
The bass player nodded his approval. “Well, you’ve got to hand it to her. She’s good.”
The rhythm guitarist suppressed a smile.
The blond laughed as he turned back to me. “Do you sing, too?”
I nodded, but didn’t say a word as my fingers flew over my guitar. But this time, I found a rhythm. I looked over at the drummer, and he bit his lower lip, suppressing a grin, having recognized me. I gave him a wink as I shook my head slightly, and then looked back at the lead guitarist.
“So, let’s see what you got.”
He laughed so hard that he dabbed at the tears in his eyes. “Really?” he asked in disbelief, gesturing down the length of my guitar.
I let my fingers run up the neck of my guitar as it screamed in answer.
“Okay,” he said, nodding his head as his fingers flew over the neck of his guitar and came abruptly to a stop. “Let’s see what you’ve got, little girl.”
I raised an eyebrow, taking him in. Behind him, the brunette drummer bit his lip and lowered his head as he shook his head, as if knowing that the blond would soon regret his actions and comments. He didn’t say a word.
One corner of my lips curled into a sly smile. Then, I turned back to Blondie. “You first.”
He nodded his gratitude, and the others laid out as Blondie’s fingers flew over the neck of his guitar and then down to the base. A moment later, his rift came to an end as a self-satisfied smirk spread across his face.
“Impressive!” I said, and, without missing a beat, immediately launched into an impressive rift of my own. When my rift came to an end, the other musicians clapped loudly as they whooped and hollered.
The rhythm guitar player laughed as he shook his head and smoothed back long strands of light brown hair into his ponytail. “I think she smoked you, man,” he said with a pronounced Irish brogue.
Blondie’s lips formed a straight line. And, without saying another word, he launched into another rift, this time mixing in a little rhythm and blues in with his lead line. A moment later, his rift came to an end. He folded his arms across his chest. “Now, beat that.”
I lifted my eyebrows. “Well, it’ll be hard. That’s for sure,” I said, matter of fact, as I set down my acoustic. “Mind if I borrow your guitar?”
He handed it to me with a self-satisfied smirk. “Go for it.”
I played around a bit with his electric guitar, getting a feel for it first. Although I preferred playing my own guitar, there are certain things that you can only do on an electric guitar. “As I said, that’ll be hard to beat, but here it goes.” I launched into an intricate rift, including some old-school rock, followed by jazz, and then launched into some contemporary rock. Then, I played the guitar behind the back of my head. After a few bars, I brought the guitar down in front of me and played a contemporary country rift and ended with a high-pitched note at the base of the neck. I jumped into the air and landed, bringing our battle to a close.
Silence filled the air. When I looked around, their mouths were open as I handed his guitar back to him.
“It’s a great guitar, but you need a new G-string. Probably because the key nozzle is a bit loose. You can have that tightened up and it’ll save you from using so many strings. Also, the nut bar at the end needs tightening, too. But, all in all, I like it.” When I handed it back to Blondie, his mouth was still open.
A slow clap came from behind me. Craig had entered the warehouse, dressed in a leather suit coat and black leather pants, instead of his usual business attire. He still wore his signature white dress shirt, but he looked good with it unbuttoned at the neck. I turned away, trying not to notice.
“Alyssa, that was truly impressive,” he said after he stopped clapping.
If Tomorrow Never Comes, Part 2:
“Just as the song came to an end, it felt as if eyes were watching me. I looked over Curt’s shoulder and someone who looked like Logan was watching me from across the room, bringing me back to reality.
“Oh my God!” I said as I backed quickly away from Curt. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this!”
A crease formed between Curt’s eyes. “What? Dance?”
I bit my lower lip. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.” I started backing away toward the stage. “It was nice to meet you.”
“May I have your number?” he asked, holding out his hand as he watched me hurry away.
Casey was still going strong on the stage and the crowd was in the palm of her hands.
I bit my lower lip and turned to one of the four bodyguards standing in the wings as tears welled up in my eyes. “I hate to do this, but can you make sure that Casey gets back to our hotel safely? Something has come up and I have to go.”
“Sure,” the leader said. “No problem at all. We’ll make sure that she gets back safely.”
“Thank you,” I said as I pulled my clutch under my arm. “Please apologize to her for me and tell her that I’ll see her back at the hotel.”
He nodded. “I will.” He took a step closer and looked into my eyes. “Is everything okay, miss?”
I nodded, suddenly feeling the need to escape, to run. “Yes, I’m fine, but I must go.”
Without another word, I hurried down the steps and out the side emergency door, trying to wrap my head around what had just happened as tears streamed down my cheeks. It couldn’t have been Logan, could it? This guy was a dead ringer for him, but a little older, more attractive—if that was possible—mature. My heels clicked against the sidewalk when I realized that there was another set of footsteps behind me.