The first time I met Jax Blackwood things went a little sideways.

In my defense, I didn’t know he was Jax Blackwood—who expects a legendary rock star to be shopping for groceries? More importantly, a blizzard was coming and he was about to grab the last carton of mint-chocolate chip.

Still, I might have walked away, but then he smugly dared me to try and take the coveted ice cream. So I kissed him. And distracted that mint-chip right out of his hands.

Okay, it was a dirty move, but desperate times and all that. Besides, I never expected he’d be my new neighbor.

An annoying neighbor who takes great pleasure in reminding me that I owe him ice cream but would happily accept more kisses as payment. An irresistible neighbor who keeps me up while playing guitar naked–spectacularly naked–in his living room.

Clearly, avoidance is key. Except nothing about Jax is easy to ignore—not the way he makes me laugh, or that his particular brand of darkness matches mine, or how one look from him melts me faster than butter under a hot sun.

Neither of us believes in love or forever. Yet we’re quickly becoming each other’s addiction. But we could be more. We could be everything.

All we have to do is trust enough to fall.



The air between us shifts. I’m filled with a strange giddiness, wanting to laugh for the fun of it, but I’m also too warm, my limbs oddly heavy as if simple movements might be too much for me.

His tone turns soft and cajoling, teasing the truth out of me. “Are you going to tell me what you do?” When I say nothing, the corners of his eyes crinkle. “I see. You’re going to torture me a bit.”

The warm, fuzzy feeling grows as I shrug. “Torture feels apropos in this scenario.”

He hums again, taking another step toward me. “What makes you think I won’t like being tortured by you?”

The heat of his body and the scent of his skin makes my head light and my pulse pound. How did it get to this point where the highlight of my day is flirting with Jax Blackwood? Despite the thrill, I know I’m in over my head. I haven’t gone out on a date in months because I form attachments, I get emotional, and then I hurt when they inevitably leave. And this man will leave. He is as bright and fleeting as a camera flash. I’ll be left with the image of him seared into my memory and nothing more.

I tell myself all of this, the voice in my head as stern as possible. But it doesn’t make me back away. It doesn’t stop my body from somehow straining toward his without even moving. Because it might be stupid of me, but I want to feel something that isn’t planned. Something, for however briefly, that’s real.

He’s too attuned to me not to notice. John’s lids lower as his attention slides down my body before easing back up to my face. Slowly, he rests his forearm on the wall beside my head. “Tell me, Stella,” he murmurs.

“No,” I whisper back, flirting, even though I shouldn’t.

His biceps bunch as he leans in, a smile dancing on his lips. “Tell.”

My breasts graze his chest, and I feel it in my toes.

“You’re crowding me.” I hate how breathy I sound.

“Can’t help it.” His voice is a rumble, the heat of his breath playing over my skin. He ducks his head, drawing close until our lips nearly brush, and when he speaks again, his tone is almost conversational, except for the husky quality that touches deep within my core. “You smell like strawberries. Fucking delicious.”

My lids flutter, and I swallow hard. “Ordinarily, I’d call you out on that cliché but since I’ve been eating strawberries, you aren’t exactly wrong.”

His chuckle is slow and easy, as he eases back and his gaze slowly travels over my face. “Were they sweet, Stella Button?”

He’s looking at my mouth like he might try to find out. My lips tremble in response, and John tracks the movement, his breathing getting deeper, faster. “You have two freckles on your lips. One on the top lip and one on the bottom corner.”

Those damn freckles. They were the bane of my adolescence. I hid them with lipstick and silently cursed whenever someone mentioned them.

Freckles don’t have any feelings, but I swear it’s as if he’s touching them.

“You’re just noticing this?” I try to make it sound like a joke, but it comes out weak and thready.

His own lips quirk. “Oh, I noticed. It’s distracting as hell. They’re like two little dots of butter toffee. Makes me want to lick them, get a taste.”

Oh, God. Lick them, please. I can almost feel it. I want to feel it.

No. Bad Stella. Behave.

John’s lips part a fraction like he just might take that taste.

“Back off,” I whisper. And yet somehow my traitorous hands find their way to his sides, running over the waistband of his jeans, holding him there.

John makes a sound deep in his throat and tilts his hips, pressing them against mine. A distinctly thick bulge nudges my belly. Both of us lose a breath, and then he’s closer, his cheek touching my temple. “You’ll have to let me go first.”

My thumbs slide under the edge of his shirt and find smooth, taut skin. A tremor goes through his body. I try to think, search for what the hell we’ve been talking about.

His lips brush the crest of my cheek as he murmurs against my skin. “Tell me what you do, Stella. You know you want to.”

My smile feels illicit. Somehow the action is directly tied to all my happy parts, making them draw hot and tight. “I don’t think I do.”

Another hum. “Liar. You’re dying to.”

Kristen Callihan is an author because there is nothing else she’d rather be. She is a three-time RITA nominee and winner of two RT Reviewer’s Choice awards. Her novels have garnered starred reviews from Publisher’s Weekly and the Library Journal, as well as being awarded top picks by many reviewers. Her debut book FIRELIGHT received RT Magazine’s Seal of Excellence, was named a best book of the year by Library Journal, best book of Spring 2012 by Publisher’s Weekly, and was named the best romance book of 2012 by ALA RUSA. When she is not writing, she is reading.




by Kristen Callihan

Gahd. I’ve been waiting for this book for a loooong time. So when this landed on my Kindle…


So let’s talk about FALL, shall we?

Jax/John Blackwood’s story has intrigued me from the first time we met him. He’s one of those tragic characters you don’t undestand why they would do something drastic as trying to kill himself. He has it all: the good looks, immeasurable talent, charm, charisma. You will get all the answers and as easy as the answer seems as complicated it really is. Depression is such an insidious illness.

When a little impish ice-cream thief also steals a kiss, he isn’t outraged. Nope, famous rockstar of one of the hottest bands John is charmed, the only regret he has is that he let her go.

Stella has never had a proper home. She lives in an apartment in New York City that belonged to her father until he up and left when she turned eighteen. Now thirty, she hasn’t seen him since. She doesn’t have any close friends although there’s nothing she wants more. When she runs into larger than life lead singer and guitarist of one of the hottest bands repeatedly, ending up being neighbors, they become friends. Friends who bicker, friends who talk and friends who laugh. I can’t even begin to say how much I loved their connection. Both of them snarky, goofy and broken in a way that it made perfect sense for them to become close.

John doesn’t want to be treated like the resident elephant in the room, he doesn’t want people to tiptoe around him but it’s hard to tell people when you think you screwed up. Especially when you still give into the dark when it comes over you. The depiction of John’s depression was done in taste and credible. He displayed the ups and downs of somebody who feels too much and that abundance of emotion can turn against him from one second to the other and it was positively heartbreaking at times.

I feel sick down to my brittle bones and terrified heart. Everything ends. Love dies. In the end, I’ll be alone, and there isn’t a thing I can do to stop it.

Stella doesn’t trust easily. She had my heart from the very beginning. She was independent, sweet and a bright light in every life she touched. I thought she was the perfect girl for John. The woman with the big heart that held compassion and love for all the people in her life who was so scared of needing somebody that she couldn’t let anyone close. And John was the perfect man for her – he bolstered Stella’s self confidence, broke her defenses and showed her the beauty he saw in her.

She’s my new favorite song; I want to play her over and over.

John and Stella’s love is a slow burn but oh so delicious. Their banter definitely sparks up their chemistry and when it was time for them to connect on another level I was just as eager for them to get there as they were. It was a thing of beauty, their hunger for each other, their emotional and physical connection. And can I say that John had the cutest nickname for Stella? It was breathtaking to watch them fall in love.

Stella giggles. That sound. It bubbles over my skin, trips my heart. I love that sound.

This was a very long book but it never felt boring. At no point did I have the urge to skim, I absorbed the words on my kindle. I laughed a lot, I had a little watery eyes now and then and I enjoyed the hell out of the story. But most of all I felt. So so much. Jax’s bandmates and Scottie are the bomb – they stand behind their man no questions asked. Their loyalty and friendship was everything. And if you need different colloquialisms for masturbating apparently Kristen Callihan is a good source to go to…

“Beating the meat.” John snickers into his beer.
“Got a better one,” Whip counters with a brow waggle.
“Wanking the willy?”
“Charming the snake,” Sophie offers.
“Polishing the pearl,” Jules says.
“Tickling my treat,” Brenna adds.
“I’m becoming uncomfortably aroused,” Rye grumbles, which makes Brenna flush bright pink and hide her face behind the rim of her martini glass.

And Scottie with his son? Gird your ovaries, people!

OK that’s not a baby but you get the picture.

I hope Kristen Callihan doesn’t keep as waiting as long for the next book as she did with this one. I am absolutely addicted to her stories and her writing style which is so crisp, beautiful and polished. She catapulted FALL up into my top favorites and is now competing for the top spot for this year. Can I say I loved it? Yeah. That epilogue was the sweetest thing. I need the next one. Like NOW!

“Stella Button, the moment you ripped that ice cream out of my hand, you knocked me off-balance. All I could do was fall.”

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