Provoke – Seaside Pictures Read online Rachel Van Dyken

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 35005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
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Read Online Books/Novels:

Provoke - Seaside Pictures

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Rachel Van Dyken

Language:
English
ISBN/ ASIN:
B07ZG2NQ4Q
Book Information:

From New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Rachel Van Dyken comes a new story in her Seaside Pictures series…
The music industry called me a savant at age sixteen when I uploaded my first video and gained instant fame. And then Drew Amherst of Adrenaline became my mentor, and my career took off. Everything was great.
Until tragedy struck, and I wondered if I’d ever be able to perform again. I fought back, but all it took was a falling light to bring it all back to the fore. So, I walked away. Because I knew it wasn’t just stage fright. It was so much more. The only problem?
Drew and the guys are counting on me. If I can’t combat the crippling anxiety threatening to kill me, I might lose more than I ever dreamed of.
Enter Piper Rayne, life coach, with her bullshit about empowerment, rainbows, and butterflies. She smiles all the damn time, and I'm ninety-nine percent sure there’s not a problem she can’t solve. Until me.
She was given twenty-one days to fix me. To make me see what’s important. What’s real. The problem is, all I can see now is her. The sexy woman who pushes me. Provokes me.
Only time will tell if she’s able to do her job—and I can make her mine.
**Every 1001 Dark Nights novella is a standalone story. For new readers, it’s an introduction to an author’s world. And for fans, it’s a bonus book in the author’s series. We hope you'll enjoy each one as much as we do.**
Books by Author:

Rachel Van Dyken



One Thousand and One Dark Nights

Once upon a time, in the future…

I was a student fascinated with stories and learning.

I studied philosophy, poetry, history, the occult, and

the art and science of love and magic. I had a vast

library at my father’s home and collected thousands

of volumes of fantastic tales.

I learned all about ancient races and bygone

times. About myths and legends and dreams of all

people through the millennium. And the more I read

the stronger my imagination grew until I discovered

that I was able to travel into the stories... to actually

become part of them.

I wish I could say that I listened to my teacher

and respected my gift, as I ought to have. If I had, I

would not be telling you this tale now.

But I was foolhardy and confused, showing off

with bravery.

One afternoon, curious about the myth of the

Arabian Nights, I traveled back to ancient Persia to

see for myself if it was true that every day Shahryar

(Persian: شهريار, “king”) married a new virgin, and then

sent yesterday's wife to be beheaded. It was written

and I had read, that by the time he met Scheherazade,

the vizier's daughter, he’d killed one thousand

women.

Something went wrong with my efforts. I arrived

in the midst of the story and somehow exchanged

places with Scheherazade – a phenomena that had

never occurred before and that still to this day, I

cannot explain.

Now I am trapped in that ancient past. I have

taken on Scheherazade’s life and the only way I can

protect myself and stay alive is to do what she did to

protect herself and stay alive.

Every night the King calls for me and listens as I spin tales.

And when the evening ends and dawn breaks, I stop at a

point that leaves him breathless and yearning for more.

And so the King spares my life for one more day, so that

he might hear the rest of my dark tale.

As soon as I finish a story... I begin a new

one... like the one that you, dear reader, have before

you now.

Prologue

“Hey, guys! It’s Braden the musical musician, hitting you up from my home in Portland, Oregon!” I made a little drum sound effect with my keyboard and then added in my normal cymbal. “And here’s the thing. I’ve been getting a lot of requests on my YouTube channel for something sexy. But, guys, I mean…have you seen my hair?” I pointed to my red hair and shook my head. “Told my mom I was gonna dye it, and she told me if I did, then I would, in fact…” I gave an exaggerated gulp and hit a low key on the keyboard. “Die.”

I made a slicing motion across my neck and grinned. “Hey, at least I have a nice, strong smile. Thank you, Dr. Pain—his nickname—for letting me wear braces for four years and then saying that one day I’d be at the Grammys dedicating an award to him.” I busted up laughing.

“All right, all right.” I cleared my throat. “This is as sexy as it gets, ladies. And for all the dudes who have to suffer through this ballad with me, I’m not even sorry because you know you’re gonna get lai—”

“Braden!” Mom yelled for me.

I made a face at my computer. “I’m going to be dead if she heard me. Also, hi, Mom. I assume you’re watching my live feed. Hey, we’re out of Pringles so—”

She stormed into my room, swatted me on the head with an empty can of Pringles, then barreled back out.

“Love you, Ma!” I called over my shoulder.

“Love you too!” she yelled.

I put my hand on my heart. “All right, let’s do this.”

I had been singing the shit out of my newest song. Within a day of its first airing, it had garnered over two million views. Actually small by comparison to my biggest hit, which had over forty million.

My channel was doing so well that my mom was able to stay home with my little sisters, which just made me feel like the man of the house—I was somehow contributing since my loser dad stopped sending child support eons ago.

I closed up for the night and headed downstairs just as the doorbell rang.

“Braden, can you get that?” Mom said from the kitchen. “I’m elbow-deep in chicken.”

“Ew, Mom, take your fetishes elsewhere.”

A curse and then, “Braden, I swear I’m going to put naked chickens in your bed if you say something about that on your channel.”

I paused for effect and then said. “I’ll think about it.”

“Braden!”

I busted out laughing as the doorbell rang again. “Hold your ass, man.”

I jerked open the door and nearly died when Drew Amhurst, Adrenaline’s front man and all-around A-list rock star stood there, sunglasses low on his nose, and both hands on his ass, smirking. “Like this, bro? Or am I doing it wrong?”

I grinned. “Did we just become best friends?”

“I’d shake your hand but you told me to hold my ass.”

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