Release Day Blitz: Butterfly, Cambria Hebert (Review, Giveaway and more)

Title: Butterfly

Author: Cambria Hebert

Publication Date: November 3, 2017

Genre: New Adult, Romance

Trope: College Romance

BLURB:

Drunken brawls. One-night stands.
No-show interviews. Toilet-papering my hoity-toity neighbor’s house.
Insulting my fans. Trashing hotel rooms.
What’s it take to become public enemy number one?
I just told you.
I’ve done all that and more.
My poor conduct got me on the Celebs Behaving Badly list
and ultimately ruined my career.
From the world’s number-one popstar to world’s most hated.
That’s me. Ten Stark.
Go underground, they said. Stay out of the spotlight.
Most importantly, stay out of trouble.
Everyone loves a good comeback story.
For once, I listened.
I met someone who didn’t know my name,
my face, or the bad behavior that defined me.
She taught me I wasn’t who everyone thought I was—everyone including me.
Then someone whispered my name and things got messy, as they always do.
Now I want her back.
I’m not a caterpillar, but a butterfly.
My wings are in full color, not just black and white.
But first, I have to shed my cocoon and fly.

Goodreads | Amazon UK | Amazon US

—

Ten
Five countries. Thirteen cities. Four weeks.
A show in each city, interviews, press… people. Masses of people.
This was my life. A never-ending cycle of shows and appearances and, as of late, an ever-growing list of bad behavior.
I lifted the silver flask up to my lips, then screwed my face into a snarl when my lips and tongue stayed dry. “Why is this empty?” I said to everyone and anyone.
“Because you drank it all?” someone to my left offered.
I gave them a withering look. “You don’t get paid for sarcasm. Fill it.” Thrusting the flask toward the minion, I dismissed him and gazed out the window. My knee bounced rapidly. The nervous energy coiling in my system was never satiated. Not even when my veins had more alcohol in them than blood.
Seconds later, the flask appeared under my nose, and I swiped it up and tipped it back. The familiar burn of vodka slid down my throat. After two long draws, I pulled it back, tucking it into my chest to sigh.
“Where are we again?” I asked as the limo slid to a stop. Even through the heavily tinted windows, the flashbulbs from all the press and fans were blinding. I slid the Versace sunglasses down off my head, over my eyes.
“It’s nighttime,” the person sitting beside me intoned.
I glanced over, not bothering to remove the glasses. “Do you value your job?”
People were banging on the windows, trying to peer in. Their hot breath left clouds on the outside of the glass, and security shouted at everyone to get back.
My assistant shrank. “Well, yes.”
“Then shut up.” I turned away, back to the window and the chaos that reigned beyond it. I took another long swig of the top-shelf vodka.

“We’re in Amsterdam,” my manager said from across the limo.
Beside her, my bodyguard pressed a finger to the black piece in his ear. “All clear,” he told me.
As the door opened, I stuffed the flask into my tailored, leather designer jacket. It wasn’t available to the public yet, not for anyone who wasn’t me.
Screams and shrill cries cut through the night, drowning out all my own thoughts, making me feel numb.
The second my foot stretched out of the ride, the noise level went up about twenty notches. Unfolding from the backseat, I felt the familiar weight of the flask in my pocket.
The second the car door slammed behind me, I threw up my arms and grinned. “What’s up, Amsterdam?”
Everyone went crazy. Women were crying, even some dudes. A plethora of hands and arms reached out over the guardrails, straining to touch me, as everyone screamed my name.
I gave a couple high-fives as flashbulbs burst around me, making my eyes strain.
“C’mon,” my bodyguard said, ushering me toward the entrance.
As we went, I would pause for a couple photos and stop to sign a few posters featuring my face.
“Please, Ten!” Girls were begging, trying to get my attention.
Just before the entrance to the venue, I stopped and went to the rail again, posing to take a selfie with a few fans.
“Oh my God, I love you!” someone screamed.
“You and everybody else,” I muttered.
I moved toward the door, but a dark shape darted out in front of us. I blinked.
A man with a camera and a bag of white shit clutched in his hands jumped in front of us. “You suck!” he spat and lifted the bag, no doubt to bomb me with whatever that shit was.
“Whoa!” My bodyguards pushed me out of the way as the powder disbursed all over the ground instead of all over me, as was intended.
The asshole lunged to the side, managing to get out of the clutches of my guard. He sprang toward me. I didn’t think. I just reacted and threw out my fist, nailing him right in the face.
He went down, falling right in the center of the mess he created. His body writhed as he screamed and yelled. “My nose!” he wailed. “You broke my nose.”
Men ushered me away, stepping in front of the spectacle, and whisked me into the building.
“I’m going to sue you!” the man roared. “I’ll see you in court!”
That was the last thing I heard before the doors cut off the circus.
***
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
I turned around, the flask clutched in my hand, to face the door my manager was filling.
“That asshole had it coming.”
“Probably.” She amended, no give in her voice. “But it doesn’t matter. You know this is going to be yet another PR nightmare. One you can’t afford.”
I drained the contents of the flask and then dropped it on the table beside me. My assistant was nearby, and I motioned for him to fill it up again.
“You’ve had enough.”
“You’re my manager, not my mother.”
“Seems to me you could use some mothering,” she snapped. “You have a show to perform.”
I spread out my arms. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“You can’t perform if you can’t stand up.”
A stage tech stuck their head in my dressing room. “We need you backstage.”
I moved across the room, swiping the flask out of the minion’s hand to take a lengthy, healthy swig before thrusting it back. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I belched.
“Let’s do this.”
On my way out the door, my manager, Becca, grabbed my wrist. “You know the deal.”
“I know. Say nothing. Even when the fans act like entitled little assholes.”
“Don’t mention what happened outside either.”
I laughed.
“You smell like a fucking brewery,” she said, disgusted.
Snatching my arm back, I strode out and went down the long hallway toward the stage. People parted as I walked, making room for me.
The wail of the crowd could be heard even back here. The act who warmed them up must have done their job. I couldn’t even remember who it was.
I didn’t care.
“Suit up!” someone yelled, and I was gestured toward the back. A few minutes later, I was strapped into some kind of harness with cables, and the crowd began to chant my name.
Anger rose up inside me. Anger at everything and everyone. Energy from the crowd, the music, everything in this entire building pressed in, fighting for room inside my body, pushing out who I was as a person, and dominating.
I was just a guest here. A guest in my own skin.
The air was thick with heat, even the A/C pouring through the large vents was no match for the way it suffocated everything around me. The crush of bodies, the lights, equipment—all created a barrier. The heat would only grow more intense as the show went on.
“You good?” one of the stagehands asked beside me.
I nodded.
“Just like rehearsals.” He reminded me.
I nodded again. I’d done this so much sometimes I dreamed about flying. Some nights it was a nightmare, falling into a dark, bottomless abyss. Just me falling, rapidly plummeting farther into nothing.
Other nights, it wasn’t so scary. It was a tease. I started out here, backstage, hooked up and ready to fly high. Only when my feet finally left the stage, everyone and everything fell away. I flew off, suddenly unbound by a harness and able to go anywhere I pleased. Away from here. Away from it all.
Free.
Music started up. Lights dimmed. People went wild. Adrenaline flooded my veins, and my stomach tilted a little. I blinked back the woozy feeling and shook my head slightly. When I opened my eyes, the world wasn’t tilted like my stomach and my feet were hovering over ground.
My voice filled the arena as it did every concert night. The fans couldn’t see me yet, but my words were everywhere.
“Perfection can be found between the rhythm and the beat.”
The familiar whooshing sound of fog machines pumping out mist filled the stage, and I stared down, watching it fill the space like fog on the set of a horror movie.
I kept going higher and higher above the thousands of people in attendance. Some had glow-sticks, waiving them around. Others had lighters. Some people just screamed.
The crush of bodies made me instantly tired. The anger I felt warred with the exhaustion. All these people claimed to love me… but I knew better.
Maybe some did, sure. But most? They were here to watch me fail. Hoping to see some bad behavior. Hoping I’d give them yet another reason to hate me.
I’d be front page news tomorrow, regardless of how well this concert went tonight. Regardless of how successful this entire tour had been.
I’d be the lead headline because I decked a “fan.” Never mind he was trying to fucking flour-bomb me, then attack me when that was thwarted.
Fuckers.
All of them.
Up here above it all, I got some sudden clarity. Like I was finally blissfully alone in a crowded arena.
The familiar beat of a song written just for me obliterated all other sounds. Below me, the crowd roared and bounced around, looking like a giant mosh pit.
A spotlight clicked on, illuminating me.
I went through the motions, the carefully choreographed movements.
“Who’s ready for the best night of your life?” I asked the crowd, and the harness swung me down closer.
Everyone seemed ready.
Everyone but me.
Maybe it was the vodka.
Maybe I was bat-shit crazy.
Maybe I just didn’t fucking care anymore.
Or…
Maybe it was the catalyst that saved my life.
Right there as I soared overhead all the adoring fans, something snapped inside me.
Since I was basically tied up, flying high, my options for getting away, for getting the hell out of there, were limited.
I did the first thing that popped into my mind.
Nimbly, my fingers reached for the zipper on my jeans. As the crew swung me toward the stage, I opened up. I released all the vodka that had been filling up my bladder and making me uncomfortable as hell.
I let it rain.
People started shrieking.
I heard my manager screaming in my earpiece. I ripped it out and threw it into the crowd.
“He’s pissing all over us!” someone shouted.
Complete chaos reigned.
I finished up and gave it a little shake. My feet hit the stage. The cords holding me snapped free. My band, everyone on stage with me, was gaping in shock.
I tucked myself back into my jeans, feeling much lighter than before. Everyone was still losing their minds. I held up my hands, and the place went silent.
Tomb silent.
I could have heard a freaking pin drop. Instead, I actually heard my own thoughts.
What the fuck are you doing? You just pissed on your fans. Literal piss.
Everyone waited for me to say something. Apologize. Claim I was sick.
Rotating my hands so my palms faced the crowd, I gave them the finger.
With both hands.
Now you know. The culmination of events.
How I became Public Enemy Number One.

REVIEW:

If you don't know, Cambria Hebert is one of the Queens of College Romances for me. I love her #Hashtag series so hard!! I miss my babies tbh. So when I saw she was a writing another college romance, I was literally over the moon, even more so when she blessed me with an ARC, ahhh <3 Thank you soooo much Cambria!

I could not have been more excited to jumped right in, so I did. The Prologue got me feeling some type of way about the hero, a not so good one. Let's face it though, I'm a big fan-girl, I have adored my idol for years on end and I guess I totally read that in the point of view of a die hard fan so you could say I was a bit biased.
So yeah, first impressions of hero, below zero I guess. BUT that view didn't last long, as soon as the present story started, my feelings started to change because right from the start you start seeing who Ten really is and the hardships he went through because of his fame. Did he go about things the right way? Well of course not, that's why he became Public Enemy #1. But you can see that it's not easy to not have any privacy, to be treated as an object and not as a person and Ten just wanted out. He did the unthinkable though and now he had to work for a comeback if he had any hopes of getting his career back on track.
He's kind of an promotional tour, giving speeches about what NOT TO DO as a celebrity, trying to better his image. The last speech on said tour is at Blaylock University's Music Department, where his uncle is head of department and where his cousin,Nate, studies.

Side note: Can I just say that I freaking loved Nate?! I hope he gets a book in the future! It would be so much fun though. *Insert evidence here*

“I thought your type was two legs and boobs.” I flashed a smile. “No, that’s your type.” Nate spread his arms wide. “I don’t discriminate. All aboard the Nate train.” He gestured like he was tugging a whistle. “Woot! Woot!” “That shit is why you’re single,” I deadpanned.

Another attendee of Blaylock University is Violet, Violet who's gay brother is die hard fan of Ten and talks about him non-stop, but Vi pays no attention, she could care less about Ten, she doesn't even know what he looks like. All she cares about is her art and making it through the day. Can you see where did is going? I'm sure you can conjure up some good theories.

After Ten's speech he finds himself literally running away from some fans and he finds shelter at an Art Gallery, that's where he meets Violet. They instantly share something, I don't know if I'd call it a connection but it's definitely a certain spark.

I tossed a smile over my shoulder. “You’re totally checking out my ass right now.” A laugh burst out of her. It was entirely genuine, and she slapped a hand over her mouth. Recovering, she said, “You’re delusional.”

“There’s something about you,” he murmured. “Something I’ve never recognized in anyone else.” “What is it?” I asked, unable to hide the tremble in my voice. His teeth glowed again. “I was hoping you’d tell me.” I returned his smile. “I don’t know what it is either.” “I sure as hell feel it,” we both said at exactly the same moment.

I really enjoyed these two, their initial banter, their cute and sweet interactions, and then their sexy times. I laughed, swooned and faned myself all over this book. It was so good! 

I hadn’t kissed her yet. But really, it was like I didn’t even have to. A kiss wouldn’t change what I felt about her. It wouldn’t make it any more intense. If anything, when I finally kissed this woman, it would be concrete proof of what I already knew. *heart eyes*

I'm not sure my feelings for a character have changed so drastically before. But how can someone hate this cute muffin? How?! He's so gentle and lovable! Like, I cannot get over how sweet and overall perfect he was with Violet. Best Book Boyfriend material right there!!

“Don’t you say negative shit about yourself. Ever again.” I released her arm so I could palm the sides of her waist in the exact spot where it curved in on each side. Coaxing her closer, I stared down from beneath the brim of my hat. “I like the way you feel in my arms.” My voice was low, the words only for her ears. “And the way you fill out your clothes, the way my hands fit right here.” I flexed my fingers. “I know you have lots of reasons to be at war with your body, baby. But the shape and size of it ain’t one.”

This is also a book about character development, and god was it beautiful to read the changes in Ten's attitude, yes attitude, because he was always Stark, he just had his true beautiful self suppressed by mess that was his life/career. He was still a caterpillar waiting to turn into a butterfly, and boy did he turn into a beautiful one.

The only way a caterpillar can become a butterfly is to let his world end so his new one can be reborn. Strangely, I identified with the caterpillar, ugly and lost. But I was ready. Ready to perhaps become a butterfly.

Now I just needed to get the girl. To spread my wings and fly.

Suffice to say, I loved this book.

“Wrong hole,” I said, my voice hoarse. “According to my brother, there is not wrong hole,” she deadpanned. I started hacking again, and she started banging on my back again. “Damn, woman,” I said, getting control of myself. I twisted and grabbed her hand, the one she was beating me with. “Are you trying to save me or kill me?” “Well, since you aren’t dead, we can assume I saved you.”

“Stop laughing,” he growled. Then a second later, he kissed me. That shut me up. Really fast. I melted into him with a soft sigh. When he lifted his head, I smiled up at him. “You called me your girl.” “Baby, haven’t you been listening?” He stroked my cheek. His face was so close to mine I could make out all the different tones of blue in his gaze. “I’ve been calling you that from almost the minute we met.”

I'm going over the quotes I highlighted and I'm just swooning so hard again. I literally wanna pick this book up again and re-read it. Ugh, I love feeling this way about books!

Rate: 5 / 5 butterflies

Author Bio:

Cambria Hebert is an award winning, bestselling novelist of more than twenty books. She went to college for a bachelor’s degree, couldn’t pick a major, and ended up with a degree in cosmetology. So rest assured her characters will always have good hair. 

Besides writing, Cambria loves a caramel latte, staying up late, sleeping in, and watching movies. She considers math human torture and has an irrational fear of chickens (yes, chickens). You can often find her running on the treadmill (she’d rather be eating a donut), painting her toenails (because she bites her fingernails), or walking her chorkie (the real boss of the house). 

Cambria has written within the young adult and new adult genres, penning many paranormal and contemporary titles. Her favorite genre to read and write is romantic suspense. A few of her most recognized titles are: The Hashtag Series, Text, Torch, and Tattoo.

Cambria Hebert owns and operates Cambria Hebert Books, LLC.

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