There's No Crying in Rock-n-Roll

There's No Crying in Rock-n-Roll

Sasha Marshall

October 2018 $14.95
ISBN: 978-1-61194-888-2

The Guitar Face Series, Book 2

Our PriceUS$14.95
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Henley Hendrix—Queen of Rock-n-Roll—finds her world shattered and her heart betrayed, but is determined to get the band back together to reclaim her title in the world of rock. But when life continues to spin out of control, so does her behavior. Will she find her strength again amid all the chaos and pain, or will the bright lights consume her soul?

This is a rock star romance series with a strong female lead, bad boys, and rock romance. This book is not recommended for those under the age of 18. It is also not recommended for those who take offense to profanity, sexual situations, drugs, or violence. This is not a standalone novel. Book One Broken should be read first.

Award-winning author Sasha Marshall, a concert photographer, toured with legendary bands such as The Allman Brothers Band. A self-proclaimed free spirit, she’s most often found outdoors, or painting a canvas, capturing a photograph, people watching, reading a book, or writing a new book. Sasha makes her home in the beautiful state of Georgia and loves to hear from readers. Visit her website.


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"MS. HENDRIX, CAN I ask you to step into my office for a moment?” she asks.

I frown. "Is something wrong?”

She hesitates. "Uh, no ma’am. I have a call for you in my office.”

A call? What is she talking about? Jessica’s phone chirps as I look at her for help with the manager. The look on her face is one of horror.

"What is it, Jessica?”

"Nothing. Let’s go take that call.”

"Let me see the message.”

"Come on, Hen. Let’s just go to the office.”

"I swear to everything holy if you don’t show me the message, I will make a scene.”

She flips her phone over for me to see.

Samantha: Get her the fuck out of Saks. The shit just hit the fan!

"What is she talking about?”

"I honestly don’t know, Hen.”

The paparazzi begins banging on the windows and calling out my name. What’s up with them? The manager is waiting impatiently.

"Ms. Hendrix, for your own safety, I’m begging you to follow me to my office.”

Jessica and I look at each other and shrug. The manager escorts us to her office, but she stops Jessica outside the door. She whispers something in her ear, and Jessica struggles with her poker face. I can see the second shock and anger pass over her face, and I know no matter what I do, she won’t tell me what she heard. So I sit in the middle of Saks wondering what the hell is going on in my life that the paparazzi acts like I’m a cat in heat, and two of my best friends feel the need to be cryptic.

An alert sounds on my phone letting me know there is an update with my name on it. I set my bags down and take a seat in the chair in front of the manager’s desk. I open the alert and Google takes its time connecting me to the story with my name in it. I’m in the middle of the building inside another room, so the signal isn’t stellar. I wait some more. What now? Did someone hear me fart? Did I pick my nose in public? Did I forget to pay something?

Google finally connects me the article.


Jessica rushes to me. "Breathe, Henley. Breathe. Seriously, take some deep breaths.”

"Please call Samantha.”

Jessica calls my publicist’s L.A. office, but she doesn’t pick up her direct line. She tries her personal cell, but she doesn’t pick it up either. She then phones her secretary who also doesn’t pick up. They are avoiding me. This is what Samantha does when she is dealing with the Mack daddy of cluster fucks. This can’t be happening. I need to talk to Samantha. Jessica spends the next ten minutes blowing up every phone Samantha can be reached on.

When she finally answers her cell, she sounds defeated. "Hen?”


"Where are you?” Her voice is so soft it scares me. Samantha is soft when the world is about to implode.


"We gotta get you out of there. I’m going to work on an escape... "

"Shut up, Samantha.” She rambles when she’s nervous. She stops talking. I finally ask the one thing I need to know before I can figure out how in the hell I’m going to deal.

"Is it true?” I ask.

She doesn’t say anything for a long minute. "Yeah, Hen.”

The tears run down my face, the phone drops, and I begin to shake my head. "No. No. No. No. No. I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I just can’t.”

"I know, Hen,” she says.



Chapter 1


"WHAT THE HELL, Jagger?” Samantha screams through the phone.

"What’s wrong?” I ask.

"What did you do? How could you not tell me? I can’t get in front of this!” she screams.

Oh God.

"Jagger! Say something!” she screams again.

"I... I... don’t know what you’re talking about,” I softly whisper, hoping denial will cover me.

"You’re having a baby! I’m your publicist, and I’m supposed to know about this before any other soul on this planet! I can’t fix this. It’s too late! They’re all over Henley as we speak, but luckily she’s oblivious for now, but that won’t last much longer,” she growls.

My gut churns. "Where’s my girl?”

"She’s at Saks with Jessica, and the media’s been outside for the last thirty minutes. She doesn’t have a clue, and security at Saks is trying to keep her away from the front of the store.”

I pace the floor with worry. My mind is in shock. This can’t be hap­pening.

"I spoke to her two hours ago, after they got to the store, how did this happen so quickly?”

"Claudia Windsor set you up. She told the media to be at that doc­tor’s appointment. What were you doing there?” she asks.

"I wasn’t at a doctor’s appointment, I asked for a paternity test, and she asked for money. I met her to pay her off, so she’d shut up. I didn’t tell anyone because I know she’s lying! She refused to take the money, and now I know why. Fuck!” I growl in frustration. "I’m sorry Sam, I should’ve told you and my attorney, Meghan. Get Hen out of there and bring her to me so that I can explain everything.”

If I try to save her myself, it will only make the situation worse.

She lets out a big sigh. "I love you like a brother, but you have to be honest with me about this. Did you sleep with the woman within the time frame of her conception?”

"Yes, but that’s not my kid. She didn’t contact me until she was almost seven months pregnant and conveniently after her Facebook status states she’s newly single from what looks like a long-time boy­friend.”

I can feel Samantha seething through the phone. "Stay away from Henley. She’ll be humiliated. I can’t believe you did this and I don’t care whose baby it is. You cannot blindside her, your parents, and your band like this. I’ll call you in a few days when I can figure out what to do. Keep your ass in your house and do not under any circumstances leave. If that motherfucker is on fire, you better put out the fire yourself and stay inside. I have to deal with the girl whose heart you’re about to break in front of the entire world. What’s done is done and I can’t do anything else from here for you right now. Hen is a priority. You get me?”

"Yeah. Sam... call me and tell me how she is?” I beg.

She hangs up in my ear, and I break out in a sweat. How did this happen? I was with Claudia less than an hour ago. This happened too quickly—of course, she set me up. The bitch set me up, no doubt forcing me to acknowledge the possibility of being a father to the world.


The bile rises, and I quickly run to the bathroom where I barely make it in time to empty the contents of my stomach. Once my stomach can no longer heave, I push back and lean against the wall. I glance around Henley’s bathroom.

Her hairbrush is filled with blond hair and still sits on the counter from when she used it this morning. Her toothbrush hangs next to mine, and my razor occupies the space next to her makeup bag. This is how my life is supposed to be. My things are supposed to be intermingled in with hers. Our lives are meant to be interwoven.

I’m not sure if she’ll forgive me. How will I survive?

The doorbell brings me back to the here and now. I walk to the front of the house quietly and look out the window for media, but see Koi, my lead singer and Henley’s brother, standing in front of the door. He’ll probably kill me. I sigh and open the door to face my fate at the hands of my best friend.

He stands with his hands in his pockets and looks me over as though I’m a petulant child who’s been caught stealing candy in a store. He doesn’t speak, and the silence weighs down on me.

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Sasha Marshall

May 2018 $14.95
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The Guitar Face Series, Book 1

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