Scarred Melody:

Bold Melodies, Book One

by Heather E. Andrews

Can a brutally scarred songwriter help a washed-up rock star feel the music again?

“We all have scars, El. The only difference is I can see yours.”


All I knew was music. Writing it, playing it. The sway of the melody traveled through me. It kept me company as I hid my face under a mask.

My dream of singing in front of the crowds was long forgotten. Now I hide in the shadows, only emerging to help fellow artists launch their careers.

Enter Skyler Dalton, my teenage heartthrob.


My best friend died. My last album bombed. I punched out a paparazzi.

Life hasn’t been going my way.

The label offered an ultimatum, work with a professional songwriter to salvage my solo career or hit the road.

Luckily, Elsie was easy to work with. I wasn’t looking for love, but what I found was a lot more than just a new song…

Genre: Contemporary Romance, Rockstar Romance

Length: Novel

Rating: R – Mature Audiences Only



“So… just to be clear, you’re not DTF?”

My lips curled into a smile. “You’re like a dog with a bone about this, aren’t you?”

Now Elsie started blushing. Damn, we were like two teenagers in the back of my pickup truck. Crossing her arms over her chest, she sat and waited, making it clear in no uncertain terms she wanted a straight answer. 

I sighed. Reaching up, I pushed aside an unruly strand of her hair, slipping it behind her ear. I ran a finger down her cheek, feeling how soft her skin was.

“Not with you,” I said, gently. 

Elsie wasn’t someone I’d ever sleep with casually. Nor the type to just burn energy off with. She was someone to spend time with, build a life with. 

When she flinched, I braced myself. Shit, how did I fuck that up?

“I understand,” she said, her face turned down. She tried to move away from me, but I tightened my arms around her and pulled her in tighter. Gripping her chin, I turned her face so her eyes would meet mine. Those green eyes I adored wouldn’t look directly at me. I couldn’t have a misunderstanding wound her; this was too important. 

“El, I don’t want to just fuck you. I want to make love to you.” I couldn’t get any plainer than that. It must’ve been the right thing to say because her face softened, and her eyes finally met mine. I liked that response, so I kept going. “I want to touch you everywhere, lick you everywhere, and watch you fall apart in my arms. I want to sleep in the bed with you after we’re done, our bodies exhausted with pleasure. Does that answer your question?”

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About The Author

Heather E. Andrews has been reading romance since the age of twelve. She lives as a disgruntled pug-mother in Albany, NY. She is the baby of nine children and slaves away taking care of her two entitled pugs and four spoiled guinea pigs. Her only escapes in life are reading, writing, and Star Trek reruns.


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