Eyes of the Storms by Lisa Gillisis a Rock Romance with an interesting story behind it. Jack Who? and Weathering Jack Storm enjoyed a successful debut a year ago. However, the released version of the books varies greatly from the original which were written and enjoyed by over a million readers on Wattpad.
When Wattpad friends and readers said I should publish, I edited out the steamier parts, switched the POV view from 1st to 3rd, and shopped the manuscript around to a few agents. I'm not a patient person and the 90 to 120 day waiting response period wasn't working for me. It was an easy decision to self publish. When I made the announcement, my Wattpad readers, who are a great support group, said I should publish the Wattpad version. Did I mention I am impatient? I didn't want to go through months with another editing, so instead I published the 3rd POV, non-steamy version that was already ready.
Although the readers who first loved Jack, Marissa, and Tristan thew their full support behind the project, many of them mentioned the published version lacked a spark the original Wattpad version had. So now in the anniversary era of Jack Who? and Weathering, I'm happy to present Eyes of the Storms (I's of the Storms-get it? :) for my rock star readers who first loved the Storms.
Steamy scenes are back and even hotter. The POV is restored to first. Extra scenes have been written in because we needed more Jack :)
Our kiss became separated as he pushed at his jeans, and I took that opportunity to rid my feet of socks and shoes. Straightening, I found his eyes skimming over me, and I was glad I’d listened to Olivia and worn the lingerie from the back corner of my drawer. Standing before him, wearing only a pair of red G-string underwear, I’d never felt sexier.
And that was good. Because I’d never seen any man as sexy as Jack. He was just stepping from his jeans, and with a little kick, he sent them to the side. My breath came in short pants as I took in once more all that had spellbound me since first laying eyes on him. The shiny, shaggy hair falling over broad shoulders, inked triceps, biceps, forearms—when had I ever thought a man’s forearms were sexy? Yet Jack’s were. Long fingers. Abs tapering into a now bare waist, lean strong hipbones, and between them…
Holy fuckin' shit…
I could feel the short hitches of my breath as I admired, and at the same time, craved every inch. Could I take every inch? That remained to be seen, but I’d die a happy woman trying. Briefly, my eyes touched over tan muscular legs, and long sexy feet, before they greedily came back up to those many thick inches… is this why Olivia was rock star crazed? Is this why groupies acted demented? Were all rock stars this blessed anatomically?
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