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New York Artists Series

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Summer of irreverence: The rock star
It's not that I don't care... But I've got nothing more to give than today.
Excerpt: “How did you go through life with that name…?” Malcolm’s eyes flashed with happiness. “I mean, if I wrote it, people would crucify me. What were your parents thinking?” Summer froze. “I mean, do they love you at all?” Malcolm chuckled. Summer’s feet refused to move, and her arms lay limp at her side. “Summer?” Malcolm’s smile faded. “Sum?” The sound of her nickname spoken by Malcolm did her in. She desperately fought the mounting tears. Malcolm stared at her. “It’s not your name you’re upset about, is it?” Summer clenched her jaw and shook her head. “I’m sorry.” His voice was low and modulated. She nodded, looking at Malcolm, and wanting, for the first time ever, to have someone make it all okay. To have him make it all okay. Malcolm grew quiet. They stood there for whole minutes. “I’m sorry if I touched on a sore subject. Really.” Summer stared at him—this man who had everything except the answer she needed. How could he be so closed off? How could he care so little about the pain of another living creature? He stepped forward then, as if reading her mind, took her hand gently, and leaned over, speaking quietly into her ear. “It’s not that I don’t care.” Those few words found a place deep in Summer’s soul. Malcolm stood tall, and Summer’s eyes followed him. He reached out and stroked her cheek. “But I’ve got nothing more to give than today.”
"This book was beautiful. It had its funny moments and it had its sad moments... Amazingly written and well portrayed!" -Haddie's Haven"Love this... A wonderfully written touching story..." -Books are Love "It was the perfect blend of sexy and entertaining, and I could not turn the pages fast enough!"- Riddle's Reviews
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To be or not to be: the actors
This one night she planned was just the beginning of forever for him.
Book 2 in The New York Artists SeriesExcerpt: He reached out and placed his hand on her cheek, stroking it gently. His gaze danced across hers. “I, uh…” Her tummy rumbled with excitement. “Thank you, Jenna. For all of it.” He pulled back, letting his hand drop to his side. He walked to the clothing rack in the back of the room, dropped the sauerkraut, and dug a small pink box from his leather bag. “Here. I wanted it to be so much more but this just felt right.” Jenna took the box with trembling hands. She gave it a slight shake, listening to it rattle. “What is it?” “Open it.” Jenna’s heart raced as she tugged at the ribbon and lifted the top off the box. Inside were a hundred pink candy turtles—all stamped with the word “Dream.” She looked up at him, her eyes aching from tears. “How did you?” “I know you’d want your father here tonight. And I know he’d want you to dream big, because that’s what I want for you.” “Trevor, I…” Jenna threw her arms around his neck and held him, tightly, her gown bunching between them. When she broke away, she was inches from him. “Perchance to dream, Jenna.” She smiled, biting the corner of her lip, exactly where his fingers had been only moments before. He reached up to touch her hair. “Careful of the wig,” she joked. “And with that sugar addiction of yours, I figured Valentine’s Day candy was a given.” “Oh, you know me so well, Mr. Hughes.” Jenna fanned herself coquettishly. He smiled. Trevor tossed the container aside and scooped Jenna into his arms. He held her tight. “It feels like the nunnery scene.” Jenna’s voice was soft and breathy. “Yes, but does this happen in the nunnery scene?” Trevor pulled her closer to him, and his lips nearly brushed against hers. “Maybe it should?” “Are you telling me…?” Trevor studied her, his gaze locked on hers. “You want me to—?” The stage manager stuck his head through the door. “Hamlet? Ophelia? Places, please.” Her body ached as he released her. “Damn it.” Trevor shook his head, jumping up and down in place. He stopped and smiled at Jenna, taking her hand and kissing it, before letting go. “Here we go.” “Break a leg, Trevor.” She smiled at him, adrenaline rushing through her. “You too, Jenna.” She made her way to the door and turned back. “Trevor? Here’s to not sucking and having to do dinner theatre in the middle of nowhere.”Chuckling, Trevor tossed his head back and Jenna scooted out the door.
"It’s a fun read, a very real feeling romance, with barriers on both sides, and yet they can't seem to keep away. I could feel that magic pull between them and love that. It wasn't a clothes off, sex on in second chapter romance, but a slow burn one where for much they are nothing more than friends secretly attracted to each other, and then friends who admit attraction but understand it can't go further....til it does ;-) " - Netgalley Review"Totally enjoyed this book of the novice actor in her first paid production in an off-Broadway play of Hamlet. I give this: 5 stars!" - Netgalley Review
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the risk of happiness: The punk rocker
We're love--and love is the reason for everything...
Book 3 in The New York Artists SeriesExcerpt: Reale winked. Damn, he was too happy. Johnny was completely locked into his tablet. She had a strict, no-tablet-at-the-table rule, but right now she’d make an exception just to find out if she had broken her own strict, do-not-sleep-with-your-rock-and-roll-ex-boyfriend-no-matter-how-sexy-he-is rule. “And um, where did we…or more specifically, did you…sleep last night?” “Don’t you remember?” He waltzed past her, stuffing two slices of whole grain bread into the toaster. “No. Uh, sorry…” Reale smiled, grabbing his pan and crossing to the table, expertly sliding scrambled eggs onto Johnny’s plate. “Seconds.” He nodded toward Johnny proudly. “But…you slept where exactly?” “Babe. You were drunk. I carried you in, changed you into your PJs, and slid you into bed. I slept on the couch. Scout’s honor.” He held up his peace fingers making a “V”. “That’s the wrong sign, dumbo.” She smirked. “So nothing happened?” He came closer, whispering. “As tempting as it was—what with your ruddy glow and contagious laugh, I figured after you had sung every song on my last CD to me—twice—you were perhaps a bit too intoxicated to partake in any additional activities that evening. Or morning.”
"If you’re looking for a great story of forgiveness, second chances, and what it means to be a family, this book has your name on it. I was given an arc of this story for an honest opinion of the work and can I just tell you it’s wonderful in every way? Because it is! 5 well deserved, emotional stars from me!" - Goodreads Review, Author Peggy Jaeger
"Goldstein has the knack for creating well-developed characters, who are so vividly portrayed they seem like real people, and by the end I was rooting for these two to get their happy ending. I really enjoy Goldstein’s writing style, her characters and descriptive settings are really well done. I felt like I’d taken a trip to New York City by the time I’d finished The Risk of Happiness, and it was with a hot punk rock star too––what could be better?" -Goodreads Review, Author Donna Simonetta
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Where birds fly: the sculptor
I don’t know what to do to stay away from you...
Book 1 in The New York Artists Series...After Dark Excerpt: He starts. “I’m not angry at you. I just—” “What, Cray. What?” I can’t contain my frustration anymore. I move toward him. He throws his hands up and paces in a circle ahead of me. “I don’t know what to do to stay away from you.” “Then don’t.” He charges at me, backing me against the wall again, nearly knocking the wind out of me on impact. He rests one hand against the building and places the other on my cheek. “Cray.” I’m hyperventilating as I nuzzle against his palm. It’s rough and callused and smells like turpentine and paint. “You feel so good.” With a grunt, he pushes his body against mine, pinning me tight to the wall. He takes both of my hands and holds them high above my head, trapping me. He leans down over me. “God, you are so f-ing beautiful.” He drops his head and kisses my neck. It tickles, but I’m focused on the ache in my already hard nipples. I lift a leg, wrapping it around his waist, dying for a release. He takes both of my arms in one hand and cradles my leg with the other, lifting it higher. He presses harder against me. “No.” He drops my leg and releases my pinned hands. He steps back, jamming his hands into his slacks. “I—I can’t.” My body aches, and I shudder. “Why not?” “Because you’re a teenager, and I’m practically a forty-year-old man. I’m the adult here.” He walks a few feet farther away. “So am I. And I’m giving you permission. Cray, I have wanted this—you—my entire life.” “Oh God, don’t say that.” He looks at me, eyes blazing. “Why not? Why can’t I tell you you’re the only man I’ve ever wanted?” “Because you shouldn’t want any man. And no man should want you. You—You’re a child.” “I’m not a child.” I walk toward him. “I’m old enough to vote, to go to jail, to…” “Drink?” I shrug. “Be an age that doesn’t end in the word ‘teen’?” He shakes his head. “We have to go back.” “Cray.” I place a hand on his forearm. He looks at it and then at me, directly. “I’m sorry. I can’t.” I drop my hand, turn on my heels, and walk back to dinner.
""I loved the book for quite a few reasons - I love the writing style! It flows so well! I never got bored. The character development is great - loved the character of O." - Hailey M., Advanced Reader Copy
"I really enjoyed this book! I liked O from the first page (I liked knowing that she isn't perfect), I also loved Cray...what woman wouldn't?...the ultimate artistic yet strong male... " -A.G., Advanced Reader Copy
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