5 11:11 CROWNS
Kate Stewart takes readers on a journey with Drive that will have their emotions swirling, living not only each moment with the characters but also amplifying these feelings with her carefully selected playlist causing readers to connect with this story as their own memories attached to those songs are relived.
Reid is an incredibly complex, broken, and beaten down man. The world has kicked him down at every turn, resulting in a pessimistic attitude, one for which readers cannot blame him for having. Underneath the scowl and the scathing remarks, readers will see a man who wants to believe in something better and clings to this with Stella. He doesn’t shed the hate and the anger, but we see a happier side of him. Seeing these glimpses, only leads to a heart-crushing scene that I knew would come but didn’t know how bad it would hurt. The pain readers feel doesn’t necessarily come from the hurt between the characters but from in the internal struggle from Reid. Like Stella, readers see something in this man and we want for him to see his worth, to see his talent, and to see that he can stand on his own and not get knocked down time and time again.
Nate is another hero who is so honorable and so worthy of love, and everything about him serves as juxtaposition for Reid. Throughout the story, readers get to see his feelings for Stella grow, and they see him and Stella evolve from co-workers, to friends, and then to more. Readers will become enamored with this man who helps Stella through some of her darkest times, heals her, and gets her dreams in motion. They are so incredibly good together, and the love between them, while not as tumultuous as Reid and Stella, is the romance people yearn and hope for in their future.
Stella is fire from the beginning. Passionate about music and what it provides her, she feels and emotes clearly, often stepping over boundaries and crossing into other people’s emotional barriers. She craves chasing down acts and events that scare her, she wants to live life following her dreams, and she yearns to live with passion and love. Although, she is incredibly emotionally, I found myself drawn to her because of her love of music, her unwillingness to give up on the people who she loves, and her dedication to herself and her dreams.
Be prepared for the emotional ride that is Drive. This plot line is not one that generally works for me (personal taste), but Kate Stewart did it so well that I was enthralled with these characters from the very beginning. She authentically exhibits how someone can love two people, how someone could be happy with two very different people, and how there aren’t always clear cut choices when it comes to the heart. In the romance world, readers often reject this idea and yearn for the soulmate, the clear-cut, no choice who the heroine she be with, but Kate Stewart has spoken to my heart and reached into my mind with this idea of loving two people. She does all of the characters justice, making the decision and the resulting falling action truly heart-breaking. It is painful and it hurts, but the resolution couldn’t have been more perfect, and it couldn’t have made me love the characters any more than I already did.
Is there a genre of romance that Kate Stewart can’t write? I don’t think so, because I have yet to be find a book that hasn’t wowed me. The comedies, the drama, the angst – she delivers with every single story, and Drive perfectly exemplifies everything I love about reading romance, a blending of life truths and passion (and ,of course, super steamy scenes).
ARC received in exchange for an honest review.
Music . . . the heart’s greatest librarian.
The average song is three and a half minutes long; those three and a half minutes could lead to a slow blink, a glimpse of the past, or catapult the soul into heart-shattering nostalgia.
At the height of my career, I had the life I wanted, the life I’d always envisioned. I’d found my tempo, my rhythm. Then I received a phone call that left me off key.
You see, my favorite songs had a way of playing simultaneously. I was in love with one man’s beats and another’s lyrics. But when it came to the soundtrack of a life, how could anyone choose a favorite song? So, to erase any doubt, I ditched my first-class ticket and decided to take a drive, fixed on the rearview.
And the long road home to the man who was waiting for me.
Get your copy of Drive today!
I clicked on the camera and quickly glanced at my notes.
Electricity shot through my veins and seeped through every pore, reminding me that this was it.
I took a sip of water and set it beside my laptop as I waited.Ten seconds.
A flicker of doubt processed for mere seconds before I wiped it away.Five.
I expelled a stressed breath, clicked Go Live, and addressed the camera.“Womanizer, bully, genius, recluse, and the world’s greatest MC. Even with all those labels, Phillip Preston, also known as Titan, is still a bit of an enigma. Despite the universe he’s constructed with storytelling lyrics, he’s always left it up to us to decipher his truth from his fiction. He burst onto the music scene fifteen years ago, an underdog in the belly of rap, with chaotic and desperate rhymes that resonated and pushed him into an unexpected level of stardom. With one hundred and eighty million records sold, he still holds his title as heavyweight and remains a household staple for his die-hard fans, collecting an army of new followers over the past two decades. I must admit, I was a bit intimidated when I sat down with him this past weekend in his Chicago fortress. I, like millions of others, am a huge fan of his genius. The simplicity of our surroundings in his home studio was shocking, to say the least. The feeling was a bit clinical and there were no platinum records on his walls, no personal photos, and there was no hint of the history he’d made as the world’s most notorious rap star. He sat in a leather chair next to his soundboard, water bottle in hand, and spoke about his love of rap, while subtly redirecting questions about his personal life—though we know he recently broke up with his long-time girlfriend, Jordan Wilson.”My eyes nearly watered as I watched the live view box tick to a hundred thousand. I had a hundred thousand people watching my podcast in a matter of minutes. I took a deep breath.
“But it seemed my reputation had preceded me because when I sat down with the rap mogul, Phillip appeared ready for the firing squad. We dueled well as I asked the hard questions—the questions of a fan. Questions I know so many of his loyal listeners want answers to, and I think you’ll be surprised to hear his answers. So, without further ado, take a look at my exclusive with the man behind the myths. Feel free to form your own opinions, but above all, remember it’s the music that matters most.”
I linked my pre-recorded interview and watched the ticks explode as soon as his face hit the screen.
That was the moment my career peaked.
With pride, I watched my interview with the white whale, the Moby Dick of the music industry. Gorgeous, brilliant, and highly elusive, Phillip Preston was the hardest artist to get personal with in an interview. And I was the woman he reached out to, to break his silence about his road to success, his parents, his ex-wife, and finally—after some careful eggshell coaxing—he spoke about his recent relationship. He had delivered to me, on a silver platter, highly personal details about his life where so many other journalists had failed, and it was nothing short of miraculous.
It was my greatest accomplishment as a music journalist. I was flying, soaring as my phone began to blow up with message after message. I hadn’t told a soul, not a single person about my exclusive. I was high on adrenaline when the notifications began to ping on my phone. A hundred, two hundred messages, and then I saw the viewer ticks had jumped drastically to half a million. Half a million! I laughed out nervously and checked Phillip’s social media. He had just posted my podcast link to our interview. My jaw dropped. He had over eighty million followers on one forum alone.
And the viewer counts just kept rising. I had done it. I gasped when the ticks went past a million.
A million people were watching my podcast.
A million people were watching my podcast!
“AHHHHHH!” I screamed to no one as I looked around the vacant room. I raised both hands in the air when the ticks rolled past two million. “Oh my GOD!” I shot up from the desk, my eyes full of incredulous water.
I’d never had more than a million views. Ever. And those took months to accrue. It was the greatest career high of my life. I looked back down at my phone, anxious to talk to someone, anyone. Lexi’s middle finger popped up on the screen, and I couldn’t resist answering her call.
“AHHHHHHHH!” I screamed into the phone..
“Yes! Is it good? You think I asked the right questions? I edited for like nine hours.”
“What do you mean, what? Titan’s interview.”
“You interviewed Titan?”
A small amount of my excitement dispersed. “Yours was the wrong call to answer.”
“You fucking interviewed Titan?”
“Yes. I wanted to surprise everyone.”
“And you didn’t bring me?”
“Sorry. I’ll feel guilty later.”
“Yeah.” Her voice dropped. I heard a toilet flush. “Yeah, Stella, that’s so cool.” Another toilet flushed.
“Where are you?”
“I’m in the bathroom at the Marquee.”
“Okay. Well, I’m buzzing right now, woman. Like, literally, my phone is exploding. Five million hits, Lexi. Five million!”
“I’m so happy for you, Stella.”
I frowned. “Yeah, with that amazing monotone, I can tell.”
“I’m so sorry.” And then her voice broke. My best friend doesn’t cry. Ever.
“Oh, shit. What’s up?”
“I’ll call you back, okay? I don’t want to ruin this.”
“You aren’t ruining anything. You couldn’t ruin this. I promise. I’ll be high for days. So, tell me. Why are you in the bathroom?”
“I’m on a blind date. He took me to a wedding.”
“Okay. You need an excuse? That’s not like you. You’re ballsy. Just give him your usual, it’s not me, it’s you.” I chuckled because she’d used it in front of me on a bass player with a cowlick and halitosis.
I knew that tone. That tone was the bearer of bad fucking news.
“What? Say it.”
“It’s his wedding.”
I eyed the clock while I zipped my suitcase. I had an hour and a half before my flight. I was cutting it close. “Whose wedding?”
“I know my name. Damn, who—” Realization struck and my heart met the floor. I stayed mute while she rambled on nervously.
“What are the odds? What are the goddamn odds? I don’t know what to do. Do you want me to leave? There’s no handbook for this. Did you even want to know this? That he’s married? I can’t believe I just watched him get married! Who in the hell ends up at their best friend’s ex-boyfriend’s wedding? I couldn’t not tell you.” She sniffed as the toilets repeatedly flushed around her.
“Stella, please say something.”
I pressed the sting back. “I’m alright, of course. I’m fine. Why are you crying?”
“I don’t know.” She sniffed. “Ben called me last night, and things are just so fucked up, and today this shit happens, and I know you’re happy. I know you are. But . . . I mean, this is—”
I put my hand up as if she could see it. “Don’t tell me anything else, okay? I’m good.” I looked at my reflection in the mirror from the bed into the adjacent bathroom. Nothing had changed. I wasn’t leaking. I was fine. “I’m okay. I’m glad you told me. I have to leave for the airport now, or I’ll miss my flight.” A slew of questions was on the tip of my tongue. Did he look happy? Was she beautiful? And more questions I hated myself for that Lexi would never be able to answer. Still, my head and heart refused to keep those questions bottled.
Was she prettier than me? Did he look at her the same way? Did he propose to her with half his heart? Did he think of me when he did it? Was any part of him thinking of me now? Was I in his dreams the way he drifted through mine sometimes?
All my thoughts were selfish. All of them. And of all the thoughts I could have had that day, self-loathing was not the one I expected to nudge its way front and center. I forced myself to speak.
“Yes, of course. I’m fine.”
“This freaky shit always happens. Always with you.”
“It’s like karma or God or someone hates you. It’s so fucked.”
I laughed ironically, though inside my heart was pounding.
Silence passed over the line as we both waited for some sort of solution that wasn’t coming.
“Stella, God, I’m so sorry.”
“About what? Stop. You know I would have told you if the situation were reversed. I should go. Love you.”
“Love y—” I hung up the phone before she could finish, frozen in the middle of the hotel room.
Contact Kate- Emailfirstname.lastname@example.org