The Rhythm Method – Stage Dive Read Online Kylie Scott

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)

Read Online Books/Novels:

The Rhythm Method - Stage Dive

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Kylie Scott

Book Information:

From New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Kylie Scott comes a new story in her Stage Dive series…

It all started in Vegas... After a wild and tumultuous beginning to their relationship, Evelyn Thomas and her rock star husband David Ferris have been happily married for years. Nothing needs to change, their life together is perfect. Which means that change in the shape of an unexpected pregnancy is bound to shake things up some. But could it be for the better?

**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:

Kylie Scott

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


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.


Chandeliers twinkled overhead, and a string quartet played Led Zeppelin. All while our friends and family ate and drank and made merry. Out the nearest window you could see the Eiffel Tower all lit up for the night, and I couldn’t have been happier if I tried. The hotel suite was wonderful. Everything was perfect. Just perfect.

“Here you go,” said my husband, David, passing me a Moscow mule. “Happy seventh wedding anniversary, Mrs. Ferris.”

“Right back at you, Mr. Ferris.”

He pressed a kiss to my lips. “Who the hell would have thought?”

“We had a rough start.” I smiled. “But I sure am glad we persevered.”

“Me too. This dress you’re wearing…” His fingers traced down my spine in a thrilling fashion. My back was bared by the low square cut of the short, black Hervé Legér fit and flare dress. It also had a plunging v-neckline, and my man definitely noticed. “Have I said how much I appreciate the easy access?”

“I may have learned a thing or two about how you like it,” I said coyly.

“We are in the city of love.”


“It’s not like we’d be missed.” He nuzzled the side of my neck, making my toes curl. “What do you say, baby?”

“You want us to sneak out of our own party?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

I nodded. “True.”

“Did I mention we’re in the city of love?” he asked, nibbling on my earlobe.

“Yes. I believe you did.”

We were in France because Stage Dive was doing a world tour. It started three months ago and would continue on for another ten. A whole year and a bit on the road with one of the biggest rock bands in the world. From North America to Europe, Asia, Australia, New Zealand, South America, and then back home again. Not all of the family would be on the whole tour. People had lives and children had school and so on.

But tonight they were all here. Just for this. For us. And the celebration of our seven years together. I’d intended it to be a casual get-together, but this was so much better. Everyone dressed up to the nines and was having the time of their life. Touring was hard work with constant stresses, and we deserved some fun.

“Coming through,” hollered Mal, the blond drummer.

David and I separated to allow the dance line to pass. Because even fancy parties in France needed a dance line, apparently. First came Mal bopping along with his two-year-old son, Tommy, on his shoulders. Followed by five-year-old Gibson and his dad, Ben, the tall, bearded bassist. Behind them came the band’s lead singer, Jimmy, with his twin girls. They were almost six and would in all likelihood be taking over the planet any day now. Hooray for strong women. Their father couldn’t have been any more delighted with their energy and enthusiasm for life. Jimmy might have been the slick bad boy of the band back in the day, but he’d grown into a good man and a great father.