Zoë didn’t expect much as she arrived at the wedding reception of a couple she had never actually met; it wasn’t really her ‘scene’ but she’d have a drink or two and enjoy it for the sake of Saturday night.
Things seemed to look up when she saw the band; a trio of testosterone-filled lusciousness with a professional poise to make any red-blooded female light-headed - but with a manager like Tris, those positive musings wouldn’t last long.
Forced into an isolated situation with the egotistical agitator, Zoë found herself utterly thrown… he’s abhorrent, but delicious… loathsome, yet – captivating. There’s just something about him…
How did a slip of the tongue get so twisted?