Publication date: May 4th 2015
Genres: New Adult, Romance
What if the whole world knows who you are, but you wake up to find you have forgotten everything since high school?
When Caleb wakes up in a glamorous LA clinic, he is a changed man. His once-scrawny body is toned, his now-white teeth gleam, and everyone looks at him in adoration. Caleb shouldn’t even be in the US–he’s English, and has never traveled farther than London.
Somehow Caleb transformed from an eighteen-year old, sexually questioning, reclusive high school student who spent his free time composing and practicing music in his parents’ shabby council flat to become a world famous rock star with adoring fans and his own mansion overlooking the Pacific.
Caleb bravely tries to fit into his new life as he recovers from his amnesia. But who is the handsome assistant publicity manager who visits him in the hospital? Why does everyone think Caleb is straight? What has Caleb forgotten? And will he ever remember?
There is a perfectly good reason why:
1.) I can’t move my body.
2.) I smell a strange lemony scent.
3.) I am lying on soft sheets, on an even softer bed, and am wearing a long shirt I do not recognize.
Unfortunately, I can’t think of that perfectly good reason.
A monitor beeps next to me, a noisy rhythmic sound that every part of me—the part that wants to play my music, the part that practices in my parents’ too-small basement—hates. The sound blares in my ears, and I miss the nothingness, the silence that surely I have just awoken from.
Perfume hits my nostrils. It’s too sweet, as if somebody has bathed in bubble gum and roses. It reminds me of the girls at school, and I turn my head away.
“Oh my God!” a high-pitched voice squeals in my ear in an American accent. “He’s awake!”
Shouldn’t I be awake?
“You’re awake, Caleb! You did it!” the voice says, this time louder and more screeching. I’m being unfair. There’s a joyousness there, and I want to capture it with music. I want to smile. I am smiling. If only everyone praised me with the same enthusiasm. I mean, I haven’t even opened my eyes yet.
Why can’t I open my eyes?
A shiver runs through me, and I scrunch my eyes together. I struggle to part my lids as if I’ve forgotten how to do it.
Alexandra Ainsworth loves cloche hats, Earl Grey tea, and romance books.
She wrote her first historical romance at age eight and gave it to her grandmother for her birthday. It had illustrations and involved a lot of fainting and a main character named Loretta. She’s glad that her readers now are not subjected to her artwork.
She sometimes wonders if the naked men in her books might be an inadvertent consequence of attending a women’s college for four years.
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