Series: Crossover Collection
Published by Self Published on 3/12/19
Genres: Contemporary Romance
Buy on Amazon
Two words I can't really get out of my head.
She left us.
Three more words that make it that much worse.
Three being another word I can't seem to wrap my mind around.
Three kids under the age of six, and she left because she missed it. Because her dream had never been to have a family, no her dream had been to marry a rockstar and live the high life.
Moving my recording studio to Seaside Oregon seems like the best idea in the world right now especially since Seaside Oregon has turned into the place for celebrities to stay and raise families in between touring and producing. It would be lucrative to make the move, but I'm doing it for my kids because they need normal, they deserve normal. And me? Well, I just need a break and help, that too. I need a sitter and fast. Someone who won't flip me off when I ask them to sign an Iron Clad NDA, someone who won't sell our pictures to the press, and most of all? Someone who looks absolutely nothing like my ex-wife.
That was my first instinct when I saw the notorious Trevor Wood, drummer for the rock band Adrenaline, in the local coffee shop. He ordered a tall black coffee which made me smirk, and five minutes later I somehow agreed to interview for a nanny position. I couldn't help it; the smaller one had gum stuck in her hair while the eldest was standing on his feet and asking where babies came from. He looked so pathetic, so damn sexy and pathetic that rather than be star-struck, I took pity. I knew though; I knew the minute I signed that NDA, the minute our fingers brushed and my body became insanely aware of how close he was—I was in dangerous territory, I just didn't know how dangerous until it was too late. Until I fell for the star and realized that no matter how high they are in the sky—they're still human and fall just as hard.
Rachel Van Dyken has a new release and today we have an excerpt and the most amazing interview to celebrate. All Stars Fall is a Seaside Pictures/ Big Sky novella in Kristen Proby’s Crossover Collection. This collection features a new book by Kristen and six of her favorite writers!
Behind the Pen
Things you don’t know about RVD:
- I used to sign my full name, and it looked like a first grader struggling with their letters, when my agent shortened my name b/c it was too much of a mouthful it was like a gift from God, lol, now three letters it is!
- I’m petrified of ET.
- I still have a retainer in my mouth from when I was fifteen. Come on Dr. Schuler ENOUGH!
- My books are movies in my head that my characters just happen to let me write.
- In college I read so much historical romance that my friends nicknamed me “Zelda” like the character in the rom com books Rachel read on Friends. The name stuck.
- If I wasn’t an author I would either be a party planner or working with kids like I used to back in the day.
- I used to loathe kids, now I want to steal them, my husband says that’s kidnapping, I call it LOVE!
- When I write songs in my books (for my rocker romances like All Stars Fall) I actually write the myself and add music (piano). One day I’ll get brave enough and release a song with the book.
- I took voice lessons and piano lessons for almost a decade.
- I minored in Spanish but panic whenever anyone speaks to me, but I can read in Spanish pretty well.
- I hate scary movies b/c I have such a vivid imagination and if I see a MOMO picture ONE MORE TIME…
- Hot Cheetos should be a food group (one of my favorite snacks).
- I can’t write without first building a soundtrack to my book and matching chapters with plot.
- I don’t sleep. Too many stories in my head, too many people talking, I wake up around seven times a night having to write stuff down so that I don’t forget in the morning and then when I try to decipher what I wrote its something like. “And dadjwei but hasdnf upset, dead.”
- My dream is to one day watch baby turtles hatch and help them make it to the shore.
The door opened.
Trevor had ketchup all over his deep V-neck T-shirt, some sort of food object stuck to his skinny jeans, and he was wearing one purple sock.
Nothing out of the ordinary per se.
Except he had a pink boa on and a tiara.
“Wow, had I known I was meeting royalty today, I would have dressed up,” I teased, shocking even myself. We didn’t know each other enough to tease, but he seemed relieved as he exhaled and then burst out laughing.
“Tea time.” He nodded. “All the Brits do it.”
“Ah, I see. Do you use an accent and everything?”
“I attempted one time, and my daughter cried because she thought I was making fun of hers, so no, I use my boring dad voice.” He winked.
Yeah, nothing about him was boring even covered in ketchup and mystery food, and he was still one of the best looking men I’d ever seen up close.
He could take a shower under a sewer, and women would still crane their necks to get a better look at him.
It was alarming.
And honestly, I needed to get a grip before my inner fangirl let loose an ear piercing scream that would match the rest of the noise coming from upstairs.
“Thank you so much.” Trevor took off his tiara. “For starting so soon. I’m swamped and since their mom left—” He cut himself off, but something indefinable flickered in his eyes. “It’s just…been a big adjustment for us.”
My chest cracked a bit. “Has she been gone long?”
“Gone,” he repeated and then smiled. “Gone makes it sound like she’s missing or that maybe she didn’t choose to leave. She’s called twice in the past year since she left, sends the kids presents on all their birthdays, and for the holidays flew in for twenty-four hours before jet setting back to Brazil or wherever the hell her current boy toy is. She left. And I don’t think I’ll ever forgive her for doing that to our family.”
“I’m so sorry,” I blurted, feeling horrible. “It’s none of my business. I feel horrible, I’m—”
“Honestly, I thought you probably knew. The rest of the world does.” His eyes locked onto mine.
“Well, here’s a moment of truth—I don’t read celebrity gossip and have been living in Montana for the last few years of my life, where the local gossip is even dirtier than Hollywood.”
“Oh?” He crossed his bulky arms.
“Yeah, I mean we once had this horse escape…” I grinned and bit down on my bottom lip, trying like hell not to look at the complete package of perfection in front of me as he waited for me to continue. “Since you were honest, I guess it’s my turn. I came here for a fresh start. My cousin Dani’s married to Lincoln Greene.”
“Ahhhhhhh.” Trevor snapped his fingers. “I love Lincoln, he’s one of the good ones.”
“He’s the best, they both are. It was their idea, and here I am.”
“Huh.” Trevor seemed to mull that over a bit before another yell came from upstairs. A basketball was thrown over the railing; it bounced behind him while he looked up and bit back a curse. “I apologize in advance. Just remember, I’m paying you well.”
“I love kids so it won’t be a problem.” What was I saying? I loved kids, yes, but not ones who were hurting and who lashed out and yelled and cried, and crap I was in over my head, totally in over my head. Back when I was a teacher we had school counselors for this sort of thing, I knew how to teach them things, to engage, but the sadness factor or even the anger, I wasn’t so sure about.
“Well, just in case…” He grabbed a piece of paper from the kitchen table. “You have my personal cell number, and if you sign here we’ll be in business.”
“NDA?” I guessed.
He gave me a funny look. “Well, yeah, but it’s more or less a contract in writing that states you won’t sell pictures of my kids on the internet.”
I gaped. “People do that?”
“You’d be surprised what people would do for money,” was all he said as he handed me a pen.
I scribbled my name across the dotted line and handed the pen back to him, his fingers warm as they grazed my skin.
I felt that touch more than a nanny should.
This was going to be a problem.
The awareness I had of him.
The way I couldn’t stop looking at him.
And the way he seemed to be doing the same to me.
“So.” I rocked back on my heels. “I’m going to assume by the ketchup on your shirt that they’ve had lunch and that now we’re doing play time. Do they take naps?”
“They have quiet time at three, and a lot of times all three of them crash.”
“Great!” A sleeping kid was a healthy kid. And it would give me time to clean up the train wreck that had exploded around his house. “And you’ll be home at?”
“Six.” He blinked his gorgeous eyes at me. “Thank you for this. I don’t know what else to say.”
“No problem.” I grinned. “Maybe change your shirt before heading out, though? We don’t want people thinking you murdered someone just because they see a flash of red ketchup.”
“Good point.” He laughed and peeled the shirt over his head with record finesse and speed.
I shivered, gaped, and then didn’t know if I was supposed to be outraged or turn away.
I turned away.
“Damn it. Sorry, it’s just been us, I wasn’t thinking, plus the laundry is on the couch—”
“Don’t worry about it.” I felt my face flame as visions of his six pack taunted my mind. “I’ll make sure to fold it when you’re gone.”
“Great.” In a flurry of movements, he had a black band shirt on and was calling upstairs. “Kids, I’m going to the studio, Penelope’s here to hang out with you. Don’t burn the house down and listen to her, all right?”
“You hid the matches!”
Trevor gave me a panicked look.
“We’ll be fine.” Matches? Burning the house down? What kind of kids burned the house down at age five? Or even thought that attempting it would be a solid life choice? I gave what I hoped was a reassuring smile, or even a non-reassuring one. “Promise!”
“You’re sure.” He eyed me like he wasn’t above chasing me out the door and pinning me to the ground just to make sure I’d stay.
“Yeah.” I waved him off. “Go before they catch the scent of freedom.”
He barked out a laugh. “You’re not wrong.”
I gave him a wide-eyed look while he nearly tripped over a Lego and made a run for it out the front door.
I felt three sets of eyes watching my back.
Slowly I turned and crossed my arms. “Who wants to make a fort?”
About the Author
Rachel Van Dyken is a New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author. When she’s not writing about hot hunks for her Regency romance or New Adult fiction books, Rachel is dreaming up new hunks. (The more hunks, the merrier!) While Rachel writes a lot, she also makes sure she enjoys the finer things in life—like The Bachelor and strong coffee.
Rachel lives in Idaho with her husband, son, and two boxers.
The Kristen Proby Crossover Collection features a new novel by Kristen Proby and six books by some of her favorite writers!! Find all the books in this collection here: