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🎶 About Falling North 🎶
Turner Artist Management Urgent Action Item:
✔ Save Falling Back North from implosion.
When your agency’s newest artist shows signs of collapse, you jump on the problem. When
it involves a potential rift between the brothers who form the band’s soul, you throw your Hail
Mary.
So I did—by hiring a respected marketing goddess to save them. But when demons run
deep and the stakes are extreme, it might prove too much for the band’s drummer and
leader who’s been carrying them all since childhood. Enormous pressure compounded by
impending heartbreak, what’s an agency to do?
See, I’m just the manager. The story that follows actually belongs to my client Xander Silva
and the innocent marketing siren about to blow him to shreds.
Because now that both brothers have their hearts set on the same woman, everyone’s
desperate to know:
Who is LYDIA CARMICHAEL??

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🎶  Exclusive Excerpt 🎶

“Xander is the tall, broody one, right?” Jordan asks once we’re alone.
I nod. “Drummer and songwriter. I’d like to keep his look more understated than
Matheus’.”
Jordan rubs his chin. “I agree. But they’re brothers, right? Some symmetry would be
good. What’s your narrative?”
“Still working on that.”
“From what I saw, the older one has an intriguing air. It’s stimulating. We should
enhance that.”
Stimulating. Yeah. So stimulating my heart is already thumping at the sound of his
approach. Jordan and I look over when he ducks inside, and suddenly the room feels
full. Overflowing. He hasn’t said a word and already he owns my attention. Even Jordan
stutters a bit with an unexpected reaction to his presence. I see the way the stylist’s
expression changes from business to excitement. Matheus is a canvas. Xander is the
whole freaking museum.
“Hi, Xander. Nice to meet you.” Jordan shakes his hand, then steps back for a better
look. “Would you mind removing your shirt, please?”
Xander pauses for just a second before he grips the back of his t-shirt and yanks it
over his head.
Focus, Lydia. Work. Job.
I cross my arms for extra security and ignore the pounding of my blood when he
straightens, subtly showing off a body that’s benefited greatly from a gym and a tattoo
needle. The genetic gods were busy on both brothers, but where Matheus is sculpted
with perfect, sleek lines, Xander fills out sexy, deep ridges.
“You work out?” Jordan asks.
Duh.
Xander twists a quick smile. “As much as I can. Stress relief.”
Also duh.

Jordan nods, looping around him slowly. A problem, because once he’s out of
Xander’s line of sight there’s nothing blocking those hazel eyes from settling on me. His
hair, still messy from the brush of his shirt, begs to be smoothed by my fingers as he
stares at me. My suddenly dry mouth wants coffee. Badly. The rest of my body refuses
to move from this view.
“I love your artwork,” Jordan says. “Don’t you think, Lydia? We probably don’t want to
cover it up too much.”
I force a nod. “Agreed.”
Jordan’s face lights up with a flash of brilliance. “Hang on.”
He moves to the door… And my stylist is not intending to leave me alone with this
shirtless masterpiece, is he? He is. Shit.
“You okay with all of this?” I ask after Jordan’s gone. The only thing worse than being
alone with Xander right now is silence to process that fact.
“It’s fine. Mind, body, and soul, right?” he says, holding out his arms with a smirk.
“My body is yours.”
I try not to choke on that all-too-valid fantasy as I attempt to read more in his
expression. As usual, I get nothing other than what he wants to give. Right now that
seems to be “amenable client” who doesn’t know he’s torturing me.
“Jordan’s right. Your tattoos are gorgeous. We should show them off.”
“You want me to perform like this?”
Is he joking? I can’t even tell until his eyes soften slightly in amusement.
“No. Not unless you want to,” I force out. Also, yes. You should be shirtless all the
time, Xander Silva. All. The. Time.
He shrugs, considering—and surprises me yet again with another dimension to the
shy, puppy-dog poet I clearly misjudged.
“Not a bad idea. The stage can get pretty damn hot.”
I nod in agreement, now desperate for any liquid to soothe my tongue and throat. “It
can. But I want you to be comfortable.”
“Then you probably shouldn’t be here right now.” His lazy smile takes me back to the
bar. To the moment I felt like he was stripping off my dress with his eyes. Yes, the
moment I would have sold my soul to let him. Blood rages straight to my core.
But he seems to regret his comment when he looks away. “Sorry. That was
inappropriate. Just trying to ease the tension.”
Tension. He feels it too. My body is beyond tense as it continues to simmer. My brain
adjusts the earlier image of him on the bed now that I know what he really looks like. It’s
pure agony, and I ball my fingers into fists beneath my crossed arms.
Jordan breezes back into the room not a second too soon and hands Xander a
simple white tank. “Put this on,” he says.
Xander obeys, and my blood rocks from more small seizures as I watch him flex and
settle into the thin fabric. Holy…
Jordan is a genius.
“Yes,” I say.
Jordan beams as he steps back to admire his art. The undershirt couldn’t be more
simple, but the fabric is thin and soft enough that it barely exists over Xander’s perfect
body. All it does is make you desperate to rip it off while being certain you’ll never have
the chance.
“Do me a favor? Pull your jeans down maybe an inch and a half?” Jordan says to
him.
Xander’s brow creases as he follows the instructions, and… did I mention Jordan is a
genius?

“I don’t even think we need to change his jeans,” Jordan says, tapping his chin. “Hair,
maybe a trim, but I like the length and color. You good with this, Lydia?”
I swallow. Still haven’t moved. Not even sure I’ve taken a breath. “I’m fine with it,” I
squeak out.
“Great. Then, I think we’re done for now. Xander, can you send Liam in next,
please?”
“Sure,” Xander says, clearly relieved. His gaze brushes mine as he turns, and I think
I do an admirable job of remaining stoic. Pretty sure no one can tell my insides are
exploding, that my fantasy game for later has just been rocketed to a whole new
dimension.
Jordan grunts once we’re alone. “Damn, girl. You need to get that boy on a cover
yesterday. You hit the jackpot with these two.”

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