Review for Samatha Calcott's Perfect Disaster





Andi Roswell never wanted to be a rock star. After being accidentally discovered performing drunken karaoke, the Goth girl's life will never be the same. She's now the frontwoman for the heavy metal band Absolution, and is dating the sexy director Leo Black.

Jack Prince is the singer of the classic Goth band Babybat. When Babybat plays the same music festival as Absolution, he and Andi meet and become unlikely friends.

But their lives aren't destined to run smoothly, and when they both find themselves in emotional distress, they only people they have to turn to are each other.




My Review

Samantha Calcott's "Perfect Disaster" is the first tale in the Poison Pleasures series. I love Andi's character...very strong and authentic. Andi and Jack's chemistry is off the charts! Yummy, yummy...I will definitely be rereading some of those scenes. The whole tale feels very stream of consciousness, you can't put it down. A whirlwind ride! I can't wait to see what other Poison Pleasures there are!

4.5 out of 5 stars



"Oi! Hey, you!" It was deep, lightly accented, and melodic even as it was raised to get her attention.
Andi stopped, turned, and rammed right into the man who'd been calling her with a loud exhalation of breath. Her hands came up to keep her from falling, and she wound up gripping the lapels of a sparkly black suit jacket. Strong hands came to grip her arms as legs tangled up in hers. They remained upright, which was a small miracle.
She was mortified, face bright red. She was unable to even meet the man’s eyes, she was so embarrassed. "I am so, so sorry!"
"Quite all right. It's a bit of a madhouse back here."
That voice. She knew that voice. She lifted her head, in her heels she was as tall as the man so it wasn't a far reach to see his face. Stubble with a bit of grey, plush pink lips, cheeks with a few wrinkles from smiling, fair skin with an olive undertone, sparkling black eyes encased in black eyeliner behind designer sunglasses, and slicked back black hair with threads of silver.
Jack Prince. She'd nearly knocked over Jack Prince. The air once again left her lungs, but for a good reason this time. The background noise faded away as she was enveloped in ... him. In his eyes, his little amused smile, even his scent. His cologne smelled like musk and bergamot. If he hadn't been holding her upright, she was certain that she would have melted into a little puddle at his feet.
Try as she might to speak, she found herself speechless.
"You all right?" he asked. "I didn't hurt you?"
"No!" Andi blurted out, far too loudly. "I mean, I'm fine. Did I hurt you?"
He shook his head. "Not at all." His smile grew, and she felt her stomach flip flop. Slowly, he let her arms go, fingers lingering on her skin just a bit. Likewise, she loosened her death-grip on his lapels. "I didn't mean to startle you. I wanted to catch you before you ran off. You sing for Absolution. What's your name?"
She'd been called Andi since she was a toddler. The only people allowed to call her by her full name were strangers and authority figures; she was even listed as ‘Andi’ on the album credits. But for some unknown reason, she said, "Andrea."
"Andrea," he repeated. "I'm Jack. Pleasure to meet you." He held his hand out to her.
She took it, feeling how warm and strong his grip was. "I know," she said, without meaning to. "I'm sorry, I meant that I'm a fan of yours. And the band. … I'm just going to stop talking now." Her face was on fire with embarrassment.
"Well, I'm flattered," he said. "You know, initially I was tasked to stop you by my daughter, Dahlia. You're her idol." He smiled sweetly. "However, I had an ulterior motive now. I watched your band's show."
"You did?" Andi asked, more nervous than ever. She had assumed that the band would be in a hotel or possibly their tour bus until right before their set.
“Yeah, Marky and I did, with my daughter. Your music videos don’t do you justice. That was one of the best performances I’ve seen in quite some time. I love the use of synthesizers within your heavy metal structure. Very unique. And you…” His eyes roved over her. “You were living art. I could tell you felt the music, believed the lyrics. You aren’t a singer, Andrea. You’re a performer. And that is a rare quality these days.” From years of watching his interviews, his voice gained deep inflection on certain words when he was excited or passionate.
Andi was fairly certain that, if this wasn’t a hallucination brought on by passing out from an anxiety attack, she was going to die of pure joy.

“Mr. Prince, that’s … that’s high praise, coming from you. I don’t know what to say,” she said, forcing her voice to stay level, for her legs not to shake. To try and remain somewhat professional after making a fool of herself. She was pretty sure she hadn’t blinked since first meeting his obsidian eyes.


Samantha Calcott is a secret lover of romance when it's done right, and after years of writing under another pen name in the horror and paranormal genres, she decided to dip her toe into a brand new genre.
She's a Midwestern girl who spent nearly a decade in the gritty heart of Los Angeles, where sex, drugs, and rock n' roll reign. When not writing, she's reading, at a concert, or cooking.
She currently lives in Arizona and also writes horror and paranormal books as USA Today bestselling author Lily Luchesi.
Find her via her newsletter, where you can receive a free ebook and get exclusive content monthly.

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