He made me fall.
As a celebrity, I lived in the public eye, but somewhere along the way, I’d lost myself in the spotlight.
Until he found me.
Sam Rivers was a gorgeous, tattooed stranger who saved my life with nothing more than a simple conversation.
But we were both standing on that bridge for a reason the night we met. The secrets of our pasts brought us together—and then tore us apart.
Could we find a reason to hold on as life constantly pulled us down?
Or maybe there’s only one direction to go when two people fall in love at rock bottom—up.
Maybe there’s only one direction to
go when two people fall
in love at rock bottom—up.
3.5 Stars
The Fall Up is a standalone read that will take you through many emotions. It's a love story that shows how two people who are emotionally hurt can find love by chance.
Levee is a famous pop singer. On the outside she has it all: fame, fans, fortune and the grand lifestyle of a rock star. But deep down, she struggles with her own demons. She's lost and looking for an out. Any out...
But when a mysterious, hot, tattooed strangers finds her standing on the bridge the past few nights, he becomes her savior.
Sam Rivers has been watching the mysterious woman for the past few nights and hoping she doesn't do what he thinks she is doing up on that bridge in her disguise. He ends up approaching her and even though she wears a disguise every night, there's something about this woman that Sam is drawn to.
After revealing who she really is to Sam, their attraction to each other doesn't change. Even though her celebrity life is chaotic, Sam feels the need to be with her and help her through her demons. And she ends up helping him in return with his past ghosts.
The Fall Up takes you a roller coaster of emotions that these two characters go through to be able to move forward in life; learn to love each other and more importantly they learn to love themselves and rid an past guilt.
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“Thank fuck!” Sam said, swinging the door open before
Devon even had the car in park.
“Oh, this isn’t my place. We’re just dropping Devon off.
I’m about twenty minutes across town?” I
tossed him a sugary smile then boldly shifted my hand into his lap, purposely
brushing the bulge under his denim.
Grabbing my wrist, he narrowed his eyes and called out,
“Devon, I’m gonna need to borrow a bedroom.”
I burst out laughing as Devon cursed loudly.
“Fine. This is my place. No smoking inside though,” I
snipped as I climbed from the SUV.
“You better have some seriously exciting extracurricular
activities to keep me distracted, then.”
“I have Ping-Pong!”
“Not exactly what I was thinking.” He mischievously cocked
his head. “But I guess paddles and balls are as good a start as any.” Dipping
down, he hoisted me over his shoulder. “Point me to the Ping-Pong table, my
lady.”
I didn’t. I laughed hysterically as he carried me inside.
Then I directed him to my bedroom instead.
I heard Devon locking up the house as Sam deposited me on
the bed.
“Jesus. This view.”
He pushed the curtains back. “Why the hell would you ever go up to the
bridge when you have this here?”
“I don’t know,” I answered, pulling my earrings off and
placing them on my nightstand.
Oh, but I knew. It might not have been what had originally
sent me up that bridge, but it was why my feet carried me back every night. And
that very reason was currently standing in front of me with entirely too much
clothing on.
“You want a beer?” I asked, sliding my shoes off.
“Nah, I’m good.” He faced me, and I could tell something
was off with his demeanor. He didn’t inch any closer. Instead, his lips were
tight and his eyes uncomfortably flashed around the room.
It suddenly didn’t feel like Sam standing in front of me
at all.
He felt like a stranger who had just come face-to-face
with Levee Williams.
Damn it.
“Why are you looking at me like that? Are you about to
freak out?” I whispered, nervously moistening my lips.
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m not really sure
yet. But I’m gonna need you to stop licking your lips long enough for me to
figure it out.” His mouth cracked into a wide grin, and my shoulders relaxed.
Now that was a flash of my
Sam.
“Want to tell me what’s going on?” I asked.
“It’s just… I think this is the first time I’ve realized
that you’re some big-time celebrity. I might be in over my head here, Designer
Shoes.”
“I just make music, Sam.” I returned his smile and very
slowly prowled in his direction. “Imagine how I feel though. You’re Samuel
Nathan Rivers. A tough, tattooed furniture designer who makes six figures a
year but is too afraid to tell his mommy he votes democratic.” I giggled as he
frowned humorously. Stopping in front of him, I dragged a fingernail down his
chest then teased the waistband of his jeans. “Have you considered that maybe
I’m the one who’s in over her head here?” I leaned forward to nip at his lips,
but he spun us around.
“Excellent point. I’m going to need you to try really hard
to keep it together, Levee. You haven’t even seen my six-pack and huge cock,
yet.” He smirked and attempted to return my nip, but I stepped out of his
reach.
“You brought beer and chicken?” I feigned excitement.
That one corny joke was all it took to bring my Sam back
completely.
With a sexy smile and a coy shrug, he seductively backed
me toward the bed. “What can I say? I like to be prepared.”
“Clearly,” I breathed.
He moved in close so his lips were only a centimeter away,
but for as much as I wanted him, it was agonizing. “Clearly,” he repeated, his
smoky yet sweet breath breezing across my mouth.
His strong arm looped around my waist, tugging me against
his chest, while I stared into his hooded eyes, eagerly waiting for him to make
a move.
Any move.
About the author
Born and
raised in Savannah, Georgia, Aly Martinez is a stay-at-home mom to four crazy
kids under the age of five, including a set of twins. Currently living in South
Carolina, she passes what little free time she has reading anything and
everything she can get her hands on, preferably with a glass of wine at her
side.
After
some encouragement from her friends, Aly decided to add “Author” to her
ever-growing list of job titles. Five books later, she shows no signs of
slowing. So grab a glass of Chardonnay, or a bottle if you’re hanging out with
Aly, and join her aboard the crazy train she calls life.
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