In the ten years I’ve spent touring and building this franchise with my brothers, not a single person has ever stood out in the crowd. It’s impossible to tell one face from the next when I’m up there. The mixture of fog, lights, flashing lasers, my astigmatism, and whatever else they put into the air to keep the crowd happy… It’s all just a mix for a big bunch of blurry fuzzy whatnots. She was not a whatnot. She stood out in her ripped black jeans and that adorable neon yellow thing holding her hair up out of her face. I don’t even know what it’s called, but it was perfect. She was perfect. The bright pink tank top that hugged her in all the right places. Those bright yellow heels that made her back curve in just the right way. Those were definitely factors that caught my eye, but it's not why I can't get her out of my head. Her dark brown eyes and that smile—her smile. That’s it. That smile had me hooked from the second I ran on stage. I even stopped short of my mark and totally threw off the spotlight tracker. Why? Because I was too busy watching her and how she just fell into the rhythm of the music. It’s a good thing Chuck didn’t plan any pyro for tonight, or I might have been screwed. I’m not even entirely sure I sang the right lyrics to the first couple of songs. It was more a series of barely audible grunts, caveman style. Nash probably turned his mic up to help with the background vocals. They’ve all gotten really good at covering my ass over the years. I’m grateful the crowd didn’t seem to notice. All I could think about was trying to figure out a way to find out who she is. I still have nothing. So I’m sitting here like a lost, lonely little puppy just hoping to catch another glimpse. What if she leaves and doesn’t come through the line? I can see both Exit doors from here. I’m watching those two doors like a pitbull watches the gate at a junkyard. Maybe I am a lost, lonely little puppy. No. I am a pitbull puppy. And just like that pitbull, I will jump this table and bulldoze whoever gets in the way if I have to.

I'm Adair Miller. You probably know me as the middle Miller brother and bassist for our multi-platinum selling rock band Amaryllis. Last night was a complete and total train wreck. First, I started flirting with my ex. That's not even when everything went off the rails. I hit rock bottom when I pretended to be drunk because I'm a coward and couldn't own up to my feelings. I can't remember a time when I didn't love Carly Thompson, but she thinks I'm just a hard-living love them and leave them rockstar. Someone she's better off leaving in her past. She's not wrong. To make things worse, I haven't given her any reason to think otherwise. I've spent my entire life pushing people away, it only got worse after the accident... Then last night happened. "Adair! What exactly happened last night and why do I have a twisty tie on my G-D finger?" Christ! I guess that means she's up and probably nursing a hangover. How do I explain what happened last night to the one woman I can't have? The same woman I can't breathe without her in my life. Half of me wants to take her to get a proper ring while the other half wants to erase last night from both of our memories You wouldn't happen to know where I can get an annulment on a Sunday in Colorado, would you? #askingforafriend

I’m too young for empty nest syndrome, but I’ll be damned if that isn’t exactly how I feel. When we got the call that our parents were never coming home, I knew what I had to do. Since I am the oldest and was only a few weeks from graduation, emancipating myself to claim guardianship over my three younger brothers wasn’t too difficult. Now, we’re all grown-up, Griffin is married with children. Adair is engaged to the love of his life and Travis is on a mission to find his person. Then there’s me… I grew up overnight, spending each day focused on how to be the leader, the confidant, the father figure and everything in between. They're all moving on and starting their own lives, but I don't know what's left for me. It would be nice to connect with someone else. Who else could possibly understand the headspace I’m in? They’d have to be seriously messed up and probably have one hell of a past... MEET NASH MILLER AND THE WOMAN WHO BRINGS THIS ROCKSTAR TO HIS KNEES!

After everything we’ve been through, it seems like I should be getting somewhere. I’m not. I’m stuck. It’s been right at two years since the last time Amaryllis saw a live crowd in front of a stage, instead of a swarm of cars in a parking lot or drive-in theater. We were almost ready to jump back into a tour cycle to celebrate, and promote, our first album—without The Machine—when the lockdowns hit, shuttering the whole world for over a year. It took a while, but the music community figured out to connect with our fans and lift everyone’s spirits, even if that was only for sixty or ninety minutes at a time. Those gigs were fun, and they helped us all keep what we had left of our sanity during the pandemic; but… It wasn’t the same. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the woman who dropped her keys in our parking lot when the paparazzi ambushed me. The way her cheeks blushed when she realized she was still wearing her press badge. Why was she ashamed of her press badge? How the electricity shot through my body when our hands touched… Everything about her has been on my mind since and I have no clue how to find her again. \\\THE BACKSTAGE PASS: A CONTEMPORARY ROCKSTAR ROMANCE is a slow burn sweet rockstar romance and the fourth story in the Amaryllis Romance series featuring standalone romance stories with no cheating and guaranteed happy ever afters.\\\ ONE CLICK THE BACKSTAGE PASS NOW!

Alyssa Maxwell, the girl who stole my heart in high school. The same girl whose heart I broke when I stood her up on prom night. One week ago, I walked out on a sold-out tour with only my daughter and the cash I had in my back pocket. Now, The Machine is ready to collect on damages caused by my abrupt departure. They launched an all out attack on my brand, which I should have expected after walking out on a national headlining tour. The media is calling me the prodigal rockstar and labelling me as a loose cannon. I’m basically hemorrhaging money at this point… Alyssa is the only one who can help me combat the media tirades, but our history together might be enough to keep me from ever finding my way out of this mess. Can she forgive me for our past and help me salvage what’s left of my career and the future? MEET JUDE JERICHO AND THE WOMAN WHO BRINGS THIS ROCKSTAR TO HIS KNEES!