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Heartbreaker Duet Book 1
BY M.C. FRANK
The pop idol. Everyone knows my name. Everyone knows my story, how I started from nothing and shot to stardom within a few years year. I sell out stadiums within hours. I have everything, or so people think. What they don’t know is that everything is fake. My music, my success, my smiles. Even my name. I had to change it four years ago, when a girl broke my heart and ruined my life.
I am starting a new tour in a few months, and I need at least five new songs. Problem is? I can’t write a single note. I am blocked.
The hired help. I met her when we were both sad teens, each lost in our own tragedies. But with her, I came alive. We forged a bond that I thought would last a lifetime. I used to look at her and think that I could never stop. Then, one day, she told me she never wanted to see me again. And now, four years later? My team of assistants (ex-assistants, I should say, as they will all be fired soon) have hired an English lit student to help me out of my creative block. She is good, they say, she has won awards for her poetry. A genius of her generation.
But when I see her? It’s her. The girl who destroyed me.
The girl who stopped loving me on a whim and disappeared, taking my dreams with her.
It’s four years later, and it’s four years too soon to be seeing her again.
She pierced my heart.
She ruined my life.
I hate her.
But when I look at her, she’s not the girl I hate: She is the girl who used to be my reason for existing.
Pierce Me is a second-chance angsty romance about a pop idol and the girl who destroyed him. Prepare to be destroyed. The darkness will be off the charts with this one -but so will the hope. So will the heat. So will the love.
Pierce Me is a hate-to-love, angsty, second chance romance filled to the brim with darkness, romance and hope Tropes: pop idol romance, K-pop, enemies to lovers, tortured boys, found family, Jane Austen retelling, cute dog.
I don’t fall to my death: I jump.
There are these defying moments in everyone’s lives, when you have to make a decision within a couple of intense seconds, or even less. When you have to make a decision with your heart, because apparently that works faster than your head. Your brain is not quick enough to process things.
And in those milliseconds, your heart makes up your mind for you.
Your heart knows.
Well, it always has known, it’s just that now you know too.
Your stupid, stupid brain catches up.
I was sixteen years old the day my father died. My little brother found him. My mom was on stage, leading New York’s philharmonic orchestra with her cello. I was in the audience, waiting for my dad to come on stage and sing. He never did.
That was the day that my heart stopped believing in God.
Two years later, when I was eighteen, the girl I had given my heart to left me without a word of warning or explanation.
That was the day that my heart stopped beating.
It continued to beat, biologically, but it was dead in my chest.
And now, four years later, this is what my heart does: It tells me to jump.
I am standing on the edge of a cliff, in one of the most beautiful places in the world. But my heart is racing, my stomach is churning and cold sweat drenches the back of my neck. I look down. All I see are ten meters or more of solid, jagged-sharp rocks and then a glittering emerald pool of water at the bottom.
And also, she. She is at the bottom, in the water. In danger.
The girl whose name I can’t mention even in my own private thoughts or it will destroy me, the girl who ripped out my heart and ruined my life.
In the water.
Ten meters below the cliffs.
It happens before I have time to think. Before I have even time to blink, let alone think, I’ve jumped. Why? Because I’m an idiot, someone would reply. Well, I knew that already, no need for a death-jump to make me aware of the fact.
The answer is an entirely new, different creature. A truth I never suspected for four years: but now I discover that it’s been true all along.
My God, I think, as my body plummets through the air in free-fall. How I have hated that girl. How many hours I have spent thinking bitter, horrible thoughts about her, hating her hating her hating her, cursing the day I met—
And then my feet hit the cold, freezing water. It’s hard and solid like cement, and pain shoots up my entire body as the breath catches in my throat.
And then there’s nothing.
M.C. Frank (writer, reader, designer, physicist and teacher, to name a few) has been living in a world of stories ever since she can remember (that’s before she knew how to write). She started writing them down when she could no longer stand the characters in her head screaming at her to give them life, and while those first scribblings weren’t exactly good (nor were they books, although she insisted on calling them that), they were enough for her to discover her passion in life. She got her university degree in physics a few years ago (yes, she’s like Sheldon, only a bit crazier!) and is now free to pursue her love of reading and writing, as well her free-lance job as editor-in-chief. She lives with her ‘dude’ in a home filled with candles, laptops and notebooks, where she rearranges her overflowing bookshelves every time she feels stressed. Which is often, since (as you might have noticed) she doesn’t pick the easiest subjects for her novels.
Links to M.C.’s websites, blogs, books, #ad etc.:
Amazon eBook: https://amzn.to/3P8V9ex
Learn more about her and her New Adult, Young Adult, scifi, Greek mythology and historical novels at mcfrankauthor.com
Thanks, M.C., for sharing your book with us!
Don’t miss the chance to read this book!