Tuesday 27 August 2013

Blog Tour: C.M Stunich' "Real Ugly (Rock Hard Roots #1)

@CMStunich
The Hopeless Romantics Book Blog are pleased to be a part of the Blog Tour for C.M Stunich' "Real Ugly (Rock Hard Roots #1)"

Amazon UK:   http://amzn.to/13r5qDy
Amazon.com:  http://amzn.to/18jXreZ

Synopsis:


Turner Campbell is an asshole.
I f*cking hate him.
But I can't get enough either.
He sings like an angel and f*cks like a devil.
If I could, I'd run away and never look back because to tell you the truth, I think this man might be the death of me.

Naomi Knox is a bitch.
I can't f*cking stand her.
But I can't stop thinking about her either.
She looks like an angel and plays like a devil.
If I could, I'd f*ck her good and forget all about her, but to tell you the truth, I think this woman might be my last saving grace.
As I said, Turner, he was.. well, less than attractive to start. He is the epitome of rock star. He is in to drinking in a big way, has a different girl in his bed every night, takes an endless amount of drugs and is just, in general, a douchebag. That's all okay though.. he earned my love in the end.

Blog Tour Review: Kirsty Lander


Holy cliffhanger. That was MEAN. Thank god CM Stunich gets her sequels out quick smart because I would be going kerrrazy having to wait for this one. What an ending!

I don't know what I can say about this book to sum it up in the way that it deserves but I'll give it a whirl..

There's a couple of rock stars, some hot and sizzling sexual chemistry, a love/hate relationship and a bunch of band mates all with, what seems to be, a crazy story to tell. The main characters Turner and Naomi are so unlike anything I've ever read.. in the beginning the both of them were just so unlikeable. 


"My name is Naomi Knox.. and I'm not afraid of you, Turner Campbell, so fuck off." 

Yep, they most definitely hated each other but good GOD they had it bad for each other all the same.
I have to give credit to Naomi here, she was a little more likeable.. but only slightly. This was a story of tortured souls, but well.. what isn't these days? Naomi has some shockers of secrets she's hiding. Two in particular that have haunted her every day for the last 6 years. Turner is a huge part of one of those, only he just doesn't know it yet.


"He practically fucks them with his voice, splits their souls in half and enslaves him. 
I hate him, yes, but I cannot, cannot, cannot deny that."

As I said, Turner, he was.. well, less than attractive to start. He is the epitome of rock star. He is in to drinking in a big way, has a different girl in his bed every night, takes an endless amount of drugs and is just, in general, a douchebag. That's all okay though.. he earned my love in the end.


"I want to shake her and hug her and scream at her and fuck her, all at the same time."


There is so much that goes on in this story that I can't even begin to mention it all. Turner and Naomi are both in bands, different bands, that are on tour together. The whole book follows their tour and the love/hate relationship that they are sharing. As well as that, Naomi slowly reveals the secrets that have been haunting her, which is just whole other drama in itself. There is not one single dull moment in this book and I was glued to it from start to finish. 

"You're a cocky, arrogant, self-serving, smug, selfish piece of shit."


As you can see I could have, and nearly did, highlight the whole book. I just can't deny what an incredible way with words the author has. There are so many lines that just stick with me and make me think. 

As I said, this book has a bit of a cliffhanger from hell but that's okay.. I didn't know it going in and therefore I didn't dread it when I was getting to the end of my read. I know a lot of readers prefer to know though. I just hope the wait isn't too long...

♪ "When I walk, I stumble.
When I run, I fall.
'Cause it's the same mistake that will fool us all.
I fell in love. 
I... I fell in love.
I. Fell. In. LOVE!" ♪
I rated "Real Ugly" 5 hearts

Get Bent (Rock Hard Roots #2)


Synopsis:

Naomi Knox is missing.
I don't even f*cking know whether she's dead or alive.
What I do know is that she's the air I need to breathe.
She's my redemption, an all consuming fire that burns in my blood.
And I'll do anything to find her. Anything. Even if means the end for me.

Turner Campbell is searching.
But he has no f*cking clue what it is he's searching for.
There's darkness all around and enough secrets to choke.
There are angels, and there are devils. It's impossible to tell them apart.
Light needs to be shone on the truth, but there's no one left to hold the torch. The line between life and death is blurred, and the players are all thoroughly entrenched in the game. The question is: am I still one of them?

Excerpt:

I tap the vein in my right arm with two fingers and check the rubber tourniquet that's wrapped around my sweaty flesh, making sure it's pulled tight.  I'm trying to set up a good injection site, so I can take the syringe I've got clutched between my teeth and shoot up.  It's the only way I'll get through this.  The only fucking way.
“Turner!  What the hell is going on in there?”  I slump against the wall and ignore Treyjan's hoarse shouting.  He's been out there all damn morning, screaming his friggin' head off.  I don't want to hear it anymore.  He's driving me nuts.
I pull the syringe out of my mouth and slide the needle into my skin, hissing at the rush of white hot pain when it punctures my vein.  I press the plunger down and wait.  A few seconds later, I feel it in the back of my throat.  It tastes like fucking victory, like accomplishment, like I'm king of the fucking world.  I yank the needle out unceremoniously and toss it into the trash can.  It lands on top of a mountain of used condoms and tissue paper, and it's probably unsanitary as shit, but I don't care.  I don't care about anything right now except Naomi.
Naomi.
“Turner, get your fucking ass out here now!”
I rip the tourniquet off next and lay it on the counter, clutching the sides of the sink as I lean over and cough.  Good meth always makes you cough.  And it makes you feel so fucking good that even a nightmare like this starts to look like a dream.
“Are you slamming meth in there, motherfucker?” Trey screams, and he sounds like he's about to burst a damn vein this time.  I lift my eyes up and stare at myself in the mirror.  It's not a pretty sight.  I look like shit.  Jesus Christ.  Have I been walking around like this for three days?  My eyes are bloodshot and ringed with purple, and my lips are pale and cracked.  I look like a Goddamn zombie.
“Don't get your panties in a wad, bitch,” I call out to him, standing up and sniffing, letting my eyes fall closed for another minute.  At least now I don't have to worry about how I'm going to get through another day.  The drugs will take care of that for me.
Naomi.
I reach over and unlock the door.
Trey doesn't waste any time opening it and throwing me a death glare.  I ignore him in favor of putting on some eyeliner.  We have a show tonight, and I want to look good.  Hell, I have to look good or I'm not getting onstage.  My pain is private, not something to hang out for all to see.  I'm not on display here.
“You got a hard-on for me or something?” I ask him, pretending that everything's alright, that my life has not just gone from bad to worse, that the breath has not just been suctioned out of my fucking lungs.  “I can't even shit in peace anymore?”  Trey looks down at the garbage, up at the tourniquet and sneers.
“You're just gonna get high everyday now?”  I shrug, applying black around my eyes, making sure it's thick enough to hide the circles.  Women love eyeliner on guys anyway.  Or at least the women at my shows do, the ones with the piercings in their noses and the tattoos on their hips.  I want to pick one of them up and fuck away the pain, but I can't do that to Naomi.  For the first time in my life, I can't even imagine screwing another woman.
I look up at the ceiling as my brain seizures with false pleasure, misplaced hope, fatal courage.
“What are you now, Mother Theresa?  We've gotten high everyday since we were sixteen.”  I pretend not to notice that Trey is wearing Travis' cap.  Or whoever's cap.  Still haven't figured that mystery out.  There seem to be a whole shit ton of them floating around right now, and that's kind of the least of my worries.
Naomi.
“Not like this, Turner.  Not fucking like this.  What are you doing?  You're gonna kill yourself.”  I don't tell my best friend that I don't care, that I'd rather die than live without Naomi Knox.  I mean, how fucked up is that?  Love sucks balls.  Everybody always acts like it's the one thing worth living for, that spark in the fire that pulls you in, that strokes your hair back and lets you know that everything's going to be okay.  Well now that I've fallen into it, nothing is okay.  Nothing will ever be okay.  I sipped from love's wine and now I'm drunk as shit without a place to lie down.  My happy ending, my saving grace is lying dead in a morgue, cut up and fucked up, so mangled they can't even identify her damn body for sure.  Oh, they say it's probably her because if not then, I mean, where the shit is she?  Where?  Where?  Where the fuck are you, Knox? With your pretty blonde hair and your sunglasses and your fuck you all attitude.

Author Bio: 

C.M. Stunich was raised under a cover of fog in the area known simply as Eureka, CA. A mysterious place, this strange, arboreal land nursed Caitlin's (yes, that's her name!) desire to write strange fiction novels about wicked monsters, magical trains, and Nemean Lions (Google it!). She currently enjoys drag queens, having too many cats, and tribal bellydance.

Always a fan of the indie scene and 'sticking it to the man,' Ms. Stunich decided to take the road less traveled and forgo the traditional publishing route. You can be assured though that she received several rejections as to ensure her proper place in the world of writers before taking up a friend's offer to start a publishing company. Sarian Royal was born, and Ms. Stunich's books slowly transformed from mere baking chocolate to full blown tortes with hand sculpted fondant flowers.

C.M. is a writer obsessed with delivering the very best and scours her mind on a regular basis to select the most unusual stories for the outside world.

Author Links:

Official Webpage: http://cmstunich.com
Facebook Friend Page: https://www.facebook.com/cmstunich 
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/cmstunichauthor 
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1aP50Mc
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6432984.C_M_Stunich
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/cmstunich
Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/c.m.-stunich
Kobo: http://bit.ly/177EMAz
Facebook Party: https://www.facebook.com/events/590492824317046/?fref=ts



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