I’m Not the One — The Black Keys
Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right — Bob Dylan
Paint It Black — The Rolling Stones
Riders On the Storm — The Doors
Fell On Black Days — Soundgarden
Icky Thump — The White Stripes
Hey Hey, My My (Into the Black) — Neil Young
Don’t Let Me Down — The Beatles
Nutshell — Alice In Chains
Have You Ever Seen the Rain — Creedence Clearwater Revival
Trampled Under Foot — Led Zeppelin
Heart of Gold — Neil Young
Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door — Bob Dylan
Everlong — Foo Fighters
Layla — Derek & The Dominos
Brother (Unplugged) — Alice In Chains
Taylor’s Vortex Playlist
immortal — Elley Duhé
Heathens — Twenty One Pilots
Humble. — Our Last Night
Master of Puppets — Metallica
Money — Of Mice & Men
Believer — Imagine Dragons
Snow White — Dennis Lloyd
She Hates Me — Puddle of Mudd
Jamie’s Cryin’ — Van Halen
Afraid (feat. Attitude) — Nelly Furtado
Jolene — Dolly Parton
Crazy On You — Heart
Raise Your Weapon — Deadmau5
I’m with You — Avril Lavigne
The Middle — Our Last Night
I Feel Like I’m Drowning — Two Feet
Girl With One Eye — Florence + the Machine
Jumpsuit — Twenty One Pilots
Sail (Unlimited Gravity Remix) — Awolnation
bad guy — Billie Eilish
About the Author
Jaine Diamond is a contemporary romance author, fond of writing the love stories of built and badass men endowed with massive hearts, and strong, complex women she’d love to have a cocktail with.
She lives in beautiful Vancouver, Canada with her real-life romantic hero (Mr. Diamond) and their daughter, where she reads, writes, and drinks copious amounts of tea.
Find all of Jaine’s books on Amazon:
http://viewAuthor.at/jainediamond1
Connect with Jaine online:
Website
http://jainediamond.com
Diamond Club Newsletter
http://jainediamond.com/#focus
Jaine Diamond’s VIPs Facebook Group
https://www.facebook.com/groups/jainediamondsVIPs/
Facebook Page
https://www.facebook.com/JaineDiamond
Instagram
https://www.instagram.com/jainediamond
BookBub
https://www.bookbub.com/authors/jaine-diamond
Twitter
https://twitter.com/JaineDiamondXO
Preview of Hot Mess
New to the Players series? Be sure to read the first book, Hot Mess—Ash and Danica’s story!
Get Hot Mess (Players #1)
Fate. Destiny. Karma… She’s mine.
It all started with a broken heart.
And a breakup party.
Rock stars. Circus freaks. And a bachelorette party.
Too. Much. Booze.
An embarrassing tattoo.
And a twist of fate.
Her name was Danny.
I thought she was The One.
But then I lost her.
And I never thought I’d see her again.
Now… I’m a mess.
I’ve had my heart broken—more than once.
And my band's broken up.
I’ve sworn to myself that I’ll never fall in love again.
Time to focus on new music and my new band.
As soon as I sober up from my latest breakup party…
But then there she is.
Standing in the rain, looking at me.
My dream girl.
My destiny…
Danny.
I missed my chance with her once.
Maybe this time… I’ll get it right.
PROLOGUE
Ash
I’d never believed there was any kind of grand purpose to my life, or to the relationships that came and went from it.
I’d never believed in fate, or karma, or any of that shit.
With all the bullshit I’d been through, why would I?
I definitely wasn’t feeling any kind of manifest destiny that day.
I couldn’t feel much at all.
Then I got off the chairlift at the top of the mountain, the edge of my snowboard caught in the ice and I went down, hard, twisting the shit out of my knee.
It had been three days since I’d broken up with my girlfriend, Summer. Three days since I’d had my heart smashed.
Three days since I’d started partying.
It was a gorgeous, clear morning. Bluebird day; fresh powder, perfect conditions. I’d planned to spend all fucking day on my board, sweating out the alcohol.
Then, you know, start drinking again.
But then I fell getting off the fucking chairlift.
I was barely able to crawl out of the way in time before the guys getting off the chair behind me ended up on top of me. It was two of my bandmates, Pepper and Janner, who pretty much pissed themselves laughing at me. Zero sympathy.
I could’ve boarded circles around either of these guys, hungover or not, but in that moment, they weren’t the ones on their asses in the snow.
At least Johnny, who’d been on my chair with me, gave me a hand up.
It was our first run of the day. The four of us had just dragged our asses out of the hotel, and my day of boarding was already done. Couldn’t put much weight on my knee, couldn’t even coast my ass down the hill. Had to sit down in the snow and wait for help, while Janner sat with me—and laughed at me.
Guess that’s what you get after staying up most of the night, drinking way too much tequila with a bunch of rock stars.
And circus freaks.
And a bachelorette party.
Long story.
The medics had to collect me and give me a ride down the hill on a snowmobile. They took a look at my knee and wrapped it up, told me to go easy on it for a few days. I passed when they asked for photos; I wasn’t in the mood to play rock star. But I signed their skis before I limped on my way.
By the time I got back to the hotel, it was a ghost town. Everyone was on the slopes. So I got changed and did the only thing there was to do: start drinking. I hit up the empty lounge, sat at the bar, ordered a beer and chatted a bit with the bartender.
Johnny came back to the hotel not long after I did.
I was alone at the bar when he found me. Said he was too hungover to board and ordered himself a drink.
“Shot of bourbon,” he told the bartender. “And one for my wounded friend here.”
I looked at Johnny then. Really looked.
I didn’t know Johnny O’Reilly well. I didn’t know we were friends.
I’d only met him a few times before. We were both rock stars on the rise, both from Vancouver, spent a lot of time in L.A.. Ran in the same circles, hit the same parties.
Two days before, he’d come to my breakup party in L.A., and here we were.
In Alaska.
Alone in some bar.
And he’d sat down pretty damn close to me.
Johnny had that striking combo of a deep tan, bleach-blond hair and blue-green eyes. The tattoo over his shoulder climbed out of his thermal shirt and up one side of his neck—the shirt that clung to his sculpted chest and arms. He had a guitarist’s calloused fingers and clean, square fingernails. Nice hands, white teeth, slow to smile.
And dark, serious eyebrows that made it look like he was always thinking, like he cared about something, about you, even when he didn’t.
… And that air of fucking calculated recklessness. The one that told you he was always in control.
Thing was, I kinda had a weakness for guys l
ike Johnny O.
Bad boys.
Not exactly my type, but… tempting.
The shots came and he slid one over to me.
And that was it.
I clinked my shot glass to Johnny’s, and when I looked into his eyes, my fate was sealed.
Granted, I sealed it myself.
Maybe I was still kinda drunk from the night before and just getting drunker, but I knew what I was doing. No one forced that shot down my throat.
If I hadn’t done that first shot with Johnny that day, no fucking doubt, things would’ve gone down differently than they did that night.
But then maybe, just maybe, I never would’ve met her.
Get Hot Mess
Lovely Madness: A Players Rockstar Romance (Players, Book 4) Page 51
