And dialing up the angst factor, check out the new ebook cover!
You’ve time-travelled back to the 1970’s. It’s an icy, rainy night and you’re out the front of a movie theatre, shivering and indecisive in your green flares and massive orange bobble hat. You stuff your hands into your purple pea coat just as you spy the poster for a dark, erotic thriller starring a very young, extra-broody Chris Christopherson as a messed up surfer-dude. Decision made! Now, what size popcorn shall you get … ?
Disclaimer: Bran emphatically does not look like Chris Christopherson 😉 Well, maybe if Chris had a son with a viking-princess super model we might be getting closer. I jest! Sorry, Chris!!
If you have the old version and would prefer the 1970’s sex-noir one – let me know – I’ll send it to you!!
Gorgeous shot of Hanna Sorheim and Ton Heukels by Matteo Montanari for Cargo Collective.
“Well, that’s confirmed it. I reckon you’re about seven parts optimist and three parts moron. That’s a dangerous combo, Ava …” – Bad Bran, Thin Ice.
“Finally,” she said. “You’re a bit slow, aren’t you?” His scowl grew. Don’t believe me. I’m lying, she thought. The words tried to break through her lips, but she wouldn’t say them. He needed to move on already, bother a different girl. – Angry Ava, The Kitchen.
Gripping the table with both hands, his eyes gleamed a translucent blue-green like chunks of raw beryl. “I . . . well . . .” He closed his eyes, rubbed his forehead and took a breath. “How can I say it, Ave? You’re the water. The wave. The ride. The whole lot.” – Brave Bran, This is What You Want.
“Okay then. I know you’ve never said it in the whole of your life. It’s hard. I understand that and I’ve been patient, but it’s only three words. And if you mean them, it should be okay, right? So I’ll be the brave one and say it first.” She took a big breath. “I love you.” Ava grimaced at her food. “Wow, it does make you feel vulnerable. But does that help?” – Amiable Ava, This is What You Want.
The tale of a damaged, up-and-coming rock star who doesn’t know what love is. Even when it smacks him in the face. Twice. When he falls hard for a girl who’s determined to resist him, what else can he do but break apart?
On sale from the 18th through to the 24th of March!
Ton Heukels, Marthe Wiggers - splice of a gorgeous shot by Alvaro Beaumud Cortes for Stylist Magazine.
“Five Stars. A fabulous novel, one with drama and details, edge and emotion, love and lust but with a story that unfolds so very different from so many Rock band romances.” – Jeannie Zelos Book Reviews
“Great debut … Siren’s Wave was a great 5 star read.” – M Austin, Alpha Book Club
“Spicy, salty and sweet! … I loved the dream imagery and metaphors … I would recommend this book even if you don’t typically do romances – it’s a gem!” – Jillian
“Siren’s Wave turned out to be the book I’ve been waiting for – the true well-written smart romance.” – Syrene
“The style of writing is unique and the way the two characters interact is genuinely funny and such a tease. The pace of the story is very well designed to keep you interested right up until the end.” – S.J. Main
Bran’s eyes flicked up from the plate of fast disappearing fish and chips in a flash of guilt. Relieved, he watched Ava flap her hands at the seagull who was taking off with one of her chips. She sure liked her salt. She practically crumbed her food in the stuff. Laughing along with the others as she wiped her hands in irritation, he wondered what he had to feel guilty about. Oh yeah, probably the sleazy way he’d scoped her out at the beach, that might be it.
They sat at bench seats pulled up to a wooden table on the deck of the pub. It was some view. The breakers cruised into the sand in a rhythm he could set lyrics to. Sparkling-green hills. Darkening shadows. Girls with luscious asses. What? Bran shook his head to clear the unwelcome image of Ava in her bathers, swallowed a too greedy mouthful of food and chased it down with a gulp of beer.
Bran and the Silva boys at the Rookery Nook – Wye River Hotel, Siren’s Wave Novel.
“Hey, that seagull likes you, Ava,” said Ben, eye-fucking her like a great jerk. “He’s coming back for more.”
“Yes, I’m sure he does. I think you’ll find, Benjamin, that I’m a great favourite with creatures of the web-footed variety.”
Bran felt himself smiling a stupid grin at her and for some reason looked down to inspect his own feet.
Before he could wrest a clever comment from his slow firing brain, which had been lulled witless by his senseless contemplation of Ava over dinner, he was annoyed to hear Ben say, “Oh, is that why I like you so much? I knew we were meant for each other.”
Dan shot a funny expression at Bran, a one eyebrow raised, what-are-ya-gonna-do-about-that kind of face. Bran did somehow feel put out. The fuck if he knew why though.
She shook sand off her towel in aggressive flicks and was pleased to see him flinch. “Don’t gawk like fools! It’s actually quite normal for a girl to have some meat on her bones, you know.”
With wide eyes and a raised brow, Bran immediately set about gathering his things. The others seemed to decide her comment was a joke and milled there chuckling up at her face and then down at the sand, up and down their eyes went until she shocked them out of their stupor.
“We’re hitting the pub up the road for dinner as soon as Dan and Dave arrive. We’re going straight from here, so if you lot are happy to sit there all night with barnacles attached to you then by all means do so.”
An hour later, they were heading to the multi-level car park situated on the same city street as the studio. Melbourne was an interesting mix of old world buildings, modern skyscrapers, and graffiti ridden laneways chock filled with eclectic cafes. They’d be perfect to kick back in and drink strong coffee or get loaded up and people-watch. He sensed an energy pulsing up through the concrete and a thrumming in the air. A creative buzz, just waiting to be hooked into. He liked the place already.
– Bran from Siren’s Wave, getting into Melbourne’s laneways.