Whiskey Lullaby by Stevie J. Cole
We all have guilty pleasures.
Mine was the boy my father took in. The guy everyone said I was too good for. The one I knew would ruin me.
But I couldn't help it. The way Noah Greyson's voice sounded when he sang whiskey lullabies to me in the dark; how perfect his arms felt wrapped around my stomach, his nose nuzzled in my hair- that's what made me fall. That intimacy was what made me so very weak. But now millions of women drift off to sleep while Noah sings the love story we wrote, and it was never meant for the world.
The worst mistake I made wasn’t loving him, it was thinking he loved me, too.
At least, that’s what I thought until now…
Noah is the bad boy that isn't really bad. He's endearingly lovable. Hannah is the preacher's daughter. Pleasingly, she isn't so cliched prude that it makes the tale unbelievable.
So we have the bad boy (who isn't really bad). We have the virginal preacher's daughter that isn't too too goodie two shoes (say that 15 times fast, holding your tongue), and they live in a small town where the rumor mill is right up with the flour mill, but they are allowed to dance. And do things that the town bad boy and the preacher's daughter shouldn't do.
Oh. And the preacher's wife, who is the preacher's daughter's mom, is dying of cancer.
Whew. That's a lot.
Stevie nailed it all though. Like Noah nailed Hannah. Spoiler? C'mon. You knew it was going to happen. I'm just saying this one should go audible with the author as the narrator.
Stevie brought the element of humor, the element of reality, the element of small-town folk going big, and the element of losing or never having the ones you love.
"They say some kisses leave you breathless, that one… it left me in awe."
Some books leave me breathless, this one... it left me in awe.
See ya at the CMAs. Solid award winner here.