Note: Pressure Point is a standalone novel, though characters from New Point make appearances.
Pressure Point (book 2)
Meet the Author
Olivia Luck lives in the middle of America with her loving husband and her obsession with writing. She wrote her first romance novel at age eight. When she’s not reading, editing, or writing, you can find her in the kitchen learning to cook. Olivia loves to travel and spend time with her family.
Get in touch with Olivia, she adores emails: firstname.lastname@example.org
We begin by meeting Stella, our heroine, Blake, our hero, and Zoe, best friend to Stella and sister to Blake. While Stella secretly crushes on Blake, a gorgeous and famous ex-football player turned team owner, she promises herself she will never let her fantasies of Blake put her friendship with Zoe in jeopardy. Until one frightening day, Zoe’s life is compromised and none of their relationships are ever the same.
I would like to begin by dissecting the main characters. Stella is an only child of parents who own the family’s city famous Italian restaurant, Baccino’s. With lots of cousins, aunts, and uncles near by, this close knit group becomes the stereotypical loud, loving and protective Italian family. How this relationship translates into the story, is minimial.
Before everything in the story complicates, they spend an evening eating a home cooked meal at her families home. It is here where Stella’s omniscient mother is introduced to both Zoe and Blake and says, “Call me Teresa, you’re family now.”
Cue all “Godfather” impressions…
Having this strong family connection, illustrates the missing family of Blake and Zoe. Zoe’s parents and Blake’s mother die in a car accident and at young age, Blake assumes custody of Zoe. It is interesting to see the development of the characters as their past instincts take over in their personal relationships and slowly become their greatest weaknesses.
This book is highly entertaining as each character has their “come to Jesus” moment and tries to repair their once treasured relationships.
They say life is about choices. You spend your life making decisions and dealing with the consequences, whether they are positive or negative. In my tumultuous frame of mind, I make a choice. A very poorly thought out choice, but one that I have to live with, nevertheless.
As soon as Cassidy finishes her encore, I tell the girls that we’re going backstage to meet the singer. They follow behind the private elevator to the lower level of the Chi Center, talking giddily. I push their voices out of my mind, leading them with long, purposeful strides.
There are perks to owning the joint. The security guards clear the way for me, knowing not to bother me when I’m in a foul mood.
With a short knock, I push my way into Cassidy’s crowded backstage room. The moment she lays her fake-eyelash covered gaze on me, she squeals. The sound hurts my ears, but I pretend it doesn’t.
“Blake Campbell, I didn’t know you were coming back here!” She literally launches herself at me, latching her over tanned arms around my neck and thrusting her glitter-speckled tits against my chest.
And then, in plain sight of Stella, I yank the pop star into my arms and thrust my tongue down her throat.
You are a moron.
“Stella, please wait.”
I know my heart is at risk. It’s tottering on the edge of a cliff, and a stiff wind could send it over the edge. He has the power. To scar me. To break me. To destroy me. But the moment that he murmurs my name, I relinquish control.
“Why?” I choke out. “Who are you? The nurturing big brother? The loving, compassionate guy I’ve come to know, or the conceited prick using me for my body? You know what; don’t answer that. I can’t do this anymore.”
I take a few steps back. Heartache, my steady companion, reappears. Without the distraction of his touch, I’m reminded that it’s bitterly cold outside and a stark shudder rolls through my entire body.
“You’re cold,” he mutters unhappily and shrugs off his suit jacket. Before I have a chance to argue, he drapes it around my back. Blake’s large hands settle on my upper arms and begin to rub vigorously.
“Why does my temperature matter?” I ask the question to this collarbone, refusing to make eye contact with the man who continues to torment my emotions.
“Stella –” there it is again, my name on his lips is tremendously distracting–“I want to start over with you.” Another shiver cascades through my shoulders and he makes a pained expression. With an arm anchoring me to his side, Blake leads me back through the door of the club and into the secluded hallway. I wrench out of his grip and put some much-needed distance between us.
“Start over with what?”
“A first date, we’ll need one of those.”
“You’re not making any sense, Blake.”
“It’s pretty simple. When a woman captures all a man’s attention, when she’s the only thing on this mind, he takes her on a date. Then another and another and another until he can convince her to be his.”
The words make my body go rigid in disbelief and my heart slow in my chest. I let my eyes fall closed as I shake my head back and forth. “Don’t say things like that to me, Blake.”
Even though I can’t see him, I sense him getting closer. Then his knuckles trail down my cheek in a whisper of a caress. “I won’t stop, Stella. This is going to happen and we’re going to do it right. That night last month… I don’t regret what happened between us because I wanted you.” His voice drops into a husky murmur.