Showing posts with label erotic romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label erotic romance. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 25, 2017

Metalcore Minx Coming (VERY) Soon

Hiya Peeps!

It's here! Get Metalcore Minx on Kindle here!
And get it in paperback here!

So, as the title of this post suggests, Metalcore Minx will be available real soon! I'll be pushing "Publish" in the next hour or so, which means you should be able to download it, either with purchase for $2.99 or for free with Kindle Unlimited. Of course, I'll make sure you know, both here and on Twitter when it's ready. If you're curious what it's about, I have the description that will go with the book on Amazon below.

I had a great time writing this one! I hope my love for the heavy music shines through. I have to say that I know next to nothing about the technical goings-on of tours, so most of what I say in here is truly fiction! (I've never even been backstage!) The backstage and bus life of Sadie, Nasty, and everyone else is basically how I think it might go, but I'm sure I got a lot (maybe most) wrong. I decided it didn't matter, as I hope the story shines through. Heck, I made up quite a few of the band names, and most of the clubs I described don't exist, so I don't think this is a big problem. I hope it doesn't drag most of you right out of the story, anyway! 

Another fun part of this is that I sort of placed it in the same universe as my novel, His Hard Rockin' Princess. If you read that book, you should recognize some of the same bands. Unlike His Hard Rockin' Princess, though, where I didn't name any real bands, Metalcore Minx mentions a few actual heavy metal bands, which I had fun with. You only hear about them in passing, but I still had fun name-dropping a few of my favorite bands! 

I hope you enjoy reading Metalcore Minx! As I stated above, it should be available Thursday, October 26, and I'll provide the link. I also plan on putting it out in paperback, though I don't know when that will happen. Soon, but I highly doubt it'll be ready to buy tomorrow. Stay tuned for that, as well!

Without further ado, here are the cover and description:


Heavy metal vibes surround this Metalcore Minx!

Sadie Finch, known as the Mistress of Death while on stage with her band, Gallows at Dawn, might be one of the premier lead singers on the metal scene, but it doesn’t mean she doesn’t miss her husband and the sex while out on the road. She can’t even go full rock star and get wasted each night because she doesn’t want to ruin her voice. This certainly isn’t how teenage her saw how being a rock star would be like. Especially when her husband accidentally sends a sex tape of him cheating.

When Gallows at Dawn heads out to tour with the hard rock band Wicked Man’s Blues supporting them, Sadie falls hard for the lead guitar player, Ignacio “Nasty” Reyes, and he for her. Their mutual respect and friendship soon turns physical, and both are as happy as could be, with her not even dwelling much on her divorce. It’s not until she suspects Nasty has someone waiting for him at home that Sadie’s world again gets flipped on its head. What’s worse, Nasty won’t admit he’s cheating, but after her divorce from Owen, she refuses to believe him.

Is it all too late for Nasty to explain his situation and past to Sadie? When Owen makes a dangerous and violent appearance on the tour, it very well could be…

Metalcore Minx is a heavy metal erotic novel of almost 50,000 words. If you enjoy heavy music and hot and heavy sex, this is the story for you!


There are plenty of hot-and-heavy (read: very descriptive) sex scenes contained in the story, so no one under the age of 18 should read. This is your “Explicit” warning.

If you'd like to see a sneak preview of the first three chapters, you can find the links here:

Saturday, October 21, 2017

Sneak Peek: Ch. 1 - Metalcore Minx

Hiya Peeps!

My newest novel (more a novella since it's not quite 50,000 words) is called Metalcore Minx. It's the story of Sadie Finch, the lead singer of the metalcore band, Gallows at Dawn, and her new (and erotic) relationship with a guitar player from another band. It's a heavy metal romance that's even heavier on the erotica. I'll have more about it later, including the description that will go on Amazon when I'm ready to publish it (hopefully by next weekend at the latest), but for now I thought I might share the first couple of chapters. So below you will find Ch. 1 of Metalcore Minx. I'd love to hear what you have to say!

CHAPTER ONE

Sadie Finch took a deep breath and let the music wash over her. She’d never heard of this band, but she liked their sound. Rotting Dead or Rotten Dead or something similar. Their singer pushed out pure death metal vocal grunts, but the band behind him proved more than a simple wall of noise so many similar bands pounded out. Their dual guitar assault provided plenty of melody she enjoyed. Hopefully she’d meet the guys after their set, though it would need to be later, as her band, Gallows at Dawn, would be on immediately after them. Such was the beauty of the rotating stage. Not every festival had them, but this one, a few miles outside Paris, used them, which was nice for the fans and kept the energy running high, which the bands all appreciated.

After their latest US tour where they were the direct support for the immortal Judas Priest, Gallows at Dawn hit the Summer festival circuit in Europe. They’d never been, so it was a big thing to not only them but their overseas fans. In addition to those festivals, which were often in front of tens of thousands, if not more, fans, they also played smaller club shows between the big gigs. Sometimes they headlined, but often they were direct support for bigger bands. What it all meant was they got to play a lot of music to rabid fans. And rabid fans always proved the most fun.

“Sadie, you ready?” The voice came from Heidi, her best friend and Gallows at Dawn’s lead guitar player. “Or have you transformed into the Mistress of Death already?”

She laughed. “Not until the slug of whiskey.” But she could understand the question. It was hard to tell when any of them weren’t in character once they applied the makeup and costumes. Her Mistress of Death persona consisted of white face paint with dark rings around her eyes and black lipstick, and she wore colored contacts, today bright red, to hide her hazel eyes. Her blond hair, which ran just past her shoulders, was dyed a bright pink for this leg of the tour, but it could, of course, be any color. She used to make it jet black every show, but bright colors were more fun and easier to see from the cheap seats. She always dressed in skin-tight leather outfits you’d never catch her in outside the clubs or arenas. Way too much trouble for everyday wear. Besides, they were the clothing choice of the Mistress of Death, not Sadie Finch. Today she wore a top with laces up the front to show off the inside curves of her breasts, as well as a tight short leather skirt and tattered fishnet stockings underneath. It all accented her lean but curvy form well.

“Kyle has it in hand as we speak,” Heidi said, referencing the bottle of cheap whiskey.

Sadie followed Heidi to the side of the stage where Kyle, their bass player, all 6’8” of him, towered over everyone. The other guys, Brandon and Race, the rhythm guitar player and drummer, respectively, stood on either side. Kyle wore his huge black hooded robes, as he went as The Executioner on stage. Brandon and Heidi wore their orange prison jumpsuits, Brandon Prisoner Number 13, Heidi Prisoner 666, while Race donned his tattered and broken straight jacket and zombie green makeup for his Experiment Zero persona. When they started the band almost 15 years ago, they had big plans to conduct skits during their sets, but soon learned the audiences wanted rock and roll, not theater, at least from opening acts they’d never heard of. They could get away with it now since they were of the almost-headliner status, had headlined small bars and clubs before, but it didn’t interest them anymore. Their personas, however, stayed, as each member had an easier time dealing with their nerves in their costumes. Sadie knew the Mistress of Death was much more adept at belting out her growling grunts and melodic tunes than she was as herself. She even usually dressed before soundcheck, as it helped her belt out the growls and melodies of metalcore to get the sound perfect.

“There they are,” Kyle boomed out, raising the bottle of whiskey, no doubt the rot-gut variety of their tradition. They did it right before stepping on stage for their first gig and hadn’t missed one yet.

Kyle took the first pull, drinking down a quarter of the bottle in one go. He let out a holler and handed the bottle to Race, who took a long drink. Next, it went to Heidi and then Brandon, who drank something near the equivalent of three shots each. After them, Sadie grabbed the bottle and found three healthy swallows left. She didn’t drink on tour, nor did she imbibe in drugs, tobacco, or anything else. She wasn’t opposed, nor did she have a problem, but those vices proved hell on her voice, and that’s what she brought to the band. She learned her lesson the hard way their first few tours all those years ago. 

“Bring on the Mistress of Death,” Kyle said, and Sadie tipped the bottle back and swigged the rest of the golden and bitter liquid like a pro. Yeah, it was the cheap shit, and it burned like hell going down, but as she grimaced and bent over, Sadie left, and the Mistress of Death permeated her soul. She stood up straight and smacked the now-empty bottle into a passing roadie’s hands. All five then put their hands in the middle of their circle, palms down, and they began their pre-set mantra.

She growled out, in her death metal voice, “Bring on the death, bring on the death, bring on the death,” followed by the four others shouting out, “Die, die, die!” They repeated it twice more, then brought their hands up with loud yells. A stagehand ushered them onto the stage, telling them they had thirty seconds. The other band, Rotting Dead or whatever the fuck they were called, took their bows to an appreciative and loud audience on the other half of the rotating stage. She salivated at the thought those cheers would soon be directed her way, their way. One quick check of the set-list to make sure she knew what to come in on and the stage started to move. They didn’t have any introduction music at this show to bring them on, so Heidi and the guys launched right into their opening song, “Blood Fountain.” The Mistress of Death, no longer Sadie Finch, threw up her left hand, keeping her index and pinkie fingers outstretched in metal horns, and was greeted with thousands and thousands of them back at her, along with raucous cheers that never failed to bring chills.

Once the stage finished its rotation, the band, like a well-oiled machine, stopped, the Mistress of Death screamed out, “What the fuck is up, Paris?” and before she could even relish the cheers, Heidi and the boys brought the thunder, and they were off.

CLICK HERE TO READ CHAPTER TWO


Friday, July 28, 2017

His Hard Rockin' Princess: Definitive Edition

Hiya Peeps!

A quick update here. I am removing the Bonus Edition of His Hard Rockin' Princess. Or, more appropriately, I'm removing the original version of the novel and replacing it with the Bonus Edition. This no longer makes it the Bonus Edition, but the only edition. The paperback will be replaced, too.

This means you now can read the epilogue and the three short stories that inspired the novel for $2.99 instead of $3.99. I'm also removing it from Smashwords (and, therefore, their affiliates) so you Kindle Unlimited members can download it for free! 

I will update this post when Amazon has informed me the changes are live. Same for the paperback. I'll also let you know on Twitter! I hope you will come and enjoy Elle and Moth Man's adventures in metal and (reluctant) Daddy-Dom play!

Update: Both the paperback and Kindle book are now live with the changes. Click the cover on the left of the screen to check them out!

Wednesday, March 8, 2017

His Hard Rockin' Princess Update

Hello Lovelies!

Wanted to let everyone know what is going on with this novel and with the three short stories that inspired it. First off, I unpublished the three stories (Festival Fun, Concert Chaos, and Viva Vegas) since I was afraid there would be confusion since they were called the His Hard Rockin' Princess series. The short stories had nothing to do with the novel other than giving me a spark of an idea, but I still decided to unpublish them. So if you're looking for them, you won't find them.

For now.

Sometime this month, in between other projects, I'm going to publish a second version of His Hard Rockin' Princess. That will have the three short stories included after the novel, so if you're curious, you can read them there. (And only there, unless you've already purchased them and haven't yet read them.) I'm debating whether to make it part of the Kindle Unlimited program or not. It depends if I can or want to set up a Smashwords account or not (various reasons I won't get into here). 

I will be charging more for it since it has extra content (either a dollar or two more, I haven't decided yet), but it will also include the epilogue I decided wasn't necessary in the original release. No, it's still not necessary for the story, but I feel it's a nice bonus feature, since this is essentially the bonus edition. The epilogue basically checks back in on Tim and Elle a few years later.

So there you have it. As I said, the "bonus" version will be out sometime this month (March 2017), and I will, of course, blog about it when it's ready. And talk about it on Twitter! So that's what I have for you this week. See you next week! (And plenty on Twitter!)

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Chapter Five: His Hard Rockin' Princess

Read Ch. 4 by clicking here

Chapter 5


Elle sat on her bed, her laptop open in front of her. It was now almost two in the afternoon, and Mandy dropped her off a few minutes ago. They’d gotten back to Rich and Mandy’s house in Villa Park about three in the morning, and after a hot shower to wipe off the grime from the weekend, she slept like a corpse in their guest room until noon. When she managed to pull herself out of bed, in need of some breakfast or lunch or whatever, she found Mandy lounged in front of the TV in the living room.
“Hungry?” Mandy asked.
“Yeah.”
“Want to help me whip up some pancakes and eggs? All I’ve had so far today is a small slice of melon when Rich left for work.”
“I thought he wasn’t going in today. And he didn’t need you?” Mandy was Rich’s assistant at Sullivan Advertising, much like Mom was Dad’s. This way they got to see each other that much more, and Dad and Rich had valued assistants they trusted more than anyone. Dad often quipped that Mom, and now Mandy, knew more about the company than he and Rich put together, and ran it better. Mom had originally been Grandpa George’s assistant, and that’s how they met, back when Mom had been married to Elle’s real father, the one she knew nothing about, and had never inquired. The way Mom’s face screwed up in anger or hate or whatever when she mentioned him proved she was lucky to have never met the man who had donated his sperm to make her. Anyway, Mom married Matt, her real dad as far as she was concerned, when she was four.
“He went in late and is leaving early. There’s a project coming up he wants to check in on. I told him I wasn’t going in today, and if he insisted, I’d take a sick day.”
“You go, girl. Don’t let the man push you around.”
“And the fact that ‘the man’ is my husband who I have wrapped around my little finger makes it all the easier to not let him push me around.”
They both laughed, and Mandy pulled the ingredients for their mini-feast out onto the counter. “Do you want to take care of the pancakes or go on scrambled egg duty?”
“Eggs,” Elle said. “Do you have any hot sauce? I saw one of the chef’s on the food channel do it, and I want to try.”
“Practice for when Tim keeps you over for breakfast?” Elle heard the grin in Mandy’s voice when she said it.
“Oh my god, shut up! Besides, don’t jinx anything.”
“By the way you two eye-fucked each other all weekend, and made out last night while we packed, I’d say there’s no need to worry about any jinx.”
Elle felt her face explode. “Seriously, shut up!”
Mandy came up behind her and gave her a hug. “Teasing, not teasing. But do you want to talk about it? Might be best now when Rich isn’t around. You know how he gets.”
“No. I sort of want to work it all through my head first. I’m not sure what happened.” She felt her face flush again. God, when did I become such a blusher? “Except I’m aching to see him again.”
“I’d be shocked if you weren’t. Anyway, there’s hot sauce in the fridge. And if you do want to talk, now or anytime in the future, I’m here for you.”
“Thanks. I might, but not yet. Besides, what are Mom and Dad going to say? He’s way older than me.”
Mandy snorted. “Might be hypocritical of them to say anything.” Dad was eleven years older than Mom, while Tim had ten years on her. “Besides, I got nothing but total good guy vibes from him all weekend. And you seemed to react to him better than with anyone else. Ever.”
Elle groaned. “Seriously, I’m not ready to talk about this. I don’t even know what’s going on in my own mind.”
“Best reason to talk it through, but I’ll respect your wishes. Now get started on those eggs, I’m starving.”
The conversation moved to more comfortable territory, though he never left her thoughts. That was both annoying and the best thing ever. Well, the best thing ever would have been if he was here, but it was a close second. Mandy drove her home not long after they finished their brunch, and now she sat in front of her laptop. She should hit the university website to click on her classes and see what she missed today, but she couldn’t. Not yet. Everything Tim dominated her brain.
She could text him, or better yet, call. Her excuse would be wanting to make sure he made it home safe. No, she needed to wait. Don’t come on too greedy, too strong, girl, she scolded herself. Let him make the first move. Or at least give him the chance to. If he didn’t get in touch in the next hour or two, she’d text him. He had, after all, extended to her a free invitation to do so at any time, right?
Before she knew it, YouTube sat open on her laptop’s browser, and her fingers took over, typing “Moth Man Wade” into the search bar. A host of videos popped up, most previews for lessons for his online Moth Man Shred School. She wanted to watch some of those, not because she cared about the lessons, but so she could see him, hear his voice. Instead, a bunch of videos of his guitar solos from his Splitting Braincells days caught her attention. She found a 30-minute compilation and clicked on it.
Okay, she liked heavy metal and hard rock before, but this weekend gave her a new appreciation. She found she enjoyed most of the bands, both Saturday and Sunday, even the super heavy ones where the lead singer growled more than sang. She hadn’t paid much attention to the Friday bands, and now wished she had; everything had been sensory overload at that point. Splitting Braincells had been her favorite, aside, of course, from Crushed Edges. Tim explained so much during Splitting Braincells’ set, pointing out songs he had originally performed and helped write. She loved that part. Now, as she watched him shirtless on stage, wailing away on his guitar, her age, maybe a year older, the music went straight to her girlie parts. She moved her hand under her sweats and panties to pet her kitty.
She gasped, and it wasn’t from the touch of her fingertips against her sex. When did she ever do this? Yes, she had rubbed herself before, but it had always been simple stress relief or a sleep aid. As she moaned at her fingertips moving through her folds and pausing on top of her little pearl, the video continued in front of her. She imagined Tim rubbing in time with his blistering solo, moving his fingers lightning quick against her kitty, and then backing off a bit, rubbing different areas of her girlie parts. She also admonished herself. He was a grown man, mature. Her saying girlie parts or kitty for her vagina wouldn’t amuse him. Would it? Maybe he’d find it cute. With that thought, a sharp orgasm, bigger than anything she’d ever felt before, even when she had actual sex with Harris, washed over her. She screwed her eyes shut tight and let Tim’s beautiful licks and chords engulf her senses, heighten her feelings. She let out a cry, thankful Mom and Dad were at work, though she wouldn’t be doing this if they were home. Maybe. Her door did have a lock, after all.
A lightheadedness washed over her. She rubbed her slit and pearl a couple more times, and then dragged her hand out of her pants. Oh, shit, despite the 8 hours of sleep she got this morning, she felt bashed. She hugged herself, a sudden wish that Tim could be here to wrap his arms around her, a wish that he’d been the one to give her the blistering orgasm, either with his hands or his thing…his cock. Another delightful convulsion shuddered through her at the thought of him, his male organ. She felt it push at her through his jeans last night when he hugged her tight, kissed her.
She avoided any sort of relationship after Harris. Their relationship, or should-have-been break-up, soured the last couple months of high school. In March of their senior year—St. Patrick’s Day after they shared a green beer—a condom broke inside her. She’d been on edge for a couple of weeks, and when her period came late, her life went into a tail-spin. Honestly, though, that wasn’t so unusual back then. Until she went on birth control, her cycle had never been anything close to regular. Everyone noticed her changed mood, but how could they not? Rich said it best. She loved his description of her, how he called her bratty with a side of bitch ever since she was 10 years old, but in that dark time, she became bitchy with extra bitch. Yeah, she couldn’t deny it. It wasn’t until Mom burst into her room while she sobbed into her pillow that it came out she knew she was pregnant. She’d taken a drug store pregnancy test and though the result was hard to read, it looked like it pointed towards positive. Mom held her as she spilled the whole story, and, of course, like always, she made her feel better. Pregnancy tests weren’t always accurate, to say nothing of the fact that this one hadn’t been clear in the first place; her periods often proved unpredictable, with this one only being a couple of days late; and her body didn’t feel any different other than from the severe stress she’d put herself through thinking about it. There was a better than average chance she wasn’t pregnant, but if she was, she, Dad, Rich, and Mandy, who’d been engaged to Rich then, would be there for her. That got Elle to cry her hardest tears of those couple of weeks, but they were of gratitude, not fear. The released stress must've nudged her hormones along, as her period started during the night. Bitchy with extra bitch took a backseat to happy with a side of ecstatic for a few days until life shifted back to normal.
Anyway, Harris didn't speak to her through the entire ordeal, though most of it, she supposed, could be blamed on her after she almost tore his head off near the beginning of the scare. Even afterward, when they reconciled, nothing had been the same. Neither would pull the plug, afraid to leave the comfortable sameness, even if it no longer held any comfort. And though sex hadn’t been an every weekend thing by any stretch of the imagination, their one time—the night after graduation—in those final few months could still be considered a dry spell. It had proved there was no longer any love between them, if there had ever been any in the first place. Thank god he chose to attend Stanford rather than a local school like her.
Now she avoided any sort of relationship. It didn’t help—or hurt, she supposed, went more in line with her point of view—that most guys at school were kind of douchey. Okay, yes, that might be unfair, as she took that vantage point from the guys who hit on her. She was sure, as Bri told her more than once, she could find a good guy if she looked for one. But therein lied the problem; she didn’t want to. When she did meet someone who held her same interests, she never felt a spark, not even enough to go on a simple coffee date to the campus Starbucks between classes. It wasn’t until…
“Tim,” she whispered into her empty room. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she noticed the video still playing. He really had been exquisite. Part of her wanted to feel sad that he loved playing the guitar so much but couldn’t do it anymore, at least like in this video. Her lust, her jubilation over her orgasmic high, though, pushed the thought away. For now she needed him, and this, his video, her fingers, would be as close as she could get until Saturday. Her hand rested on her stomach and inched down. This would be a record; she’d never masturbated twice in one day before. Maybe never more than once in an entire month.
As soon as her hand reached the waistband of her sweats, her phone’s text message alert chimed, getting her to jump. She sat up and reached for it, as it lay next to her laptop. A smile took over when she saw it was Tim, and also felt her face flush. Had he known she planned to touch her girlie parts again thinking about him? No, she was being silly. How could he? But they did feel so connected…
His text instead had a bland but happy message. He made it home safe, and had already unpacked the RV. He also hoped she made it home okay. Her smile threatened to split her face. He’s thinking about me! How awesome is that?
Her thumbs flew across the digital keyboard on her phone. “Glad you are safe. I slept at Rich and Mandy’s. Home now and playing on laptop. Need to homework soon.”
There. Would he say anything more? If so, would it be in a way that engaged further conversation? Her eyes didn’t leave her iPhone’s screen, and he rewarded her seconds later.
“Glad to hear. Did you miss much in your classes today? I’m already pining for Saturday, by the way.”
“Oh my god,” she squealed, and her thumbs again moved in a blur.
“ME, TOO!!! ALREADY HUNGRY!!!” She giggled, as she didn’t mean for food. How would he reply? Would he pick up on her subtext?
He played it safe, though his reply still got a smile from of her.
“Saturday is a long ways away. Hope you plan to eat something in between.”
She sent first a winking smiley, and then said, “Don’t know about missed school yet. Haven’t logged onto website. Got distracted by Moth Man YouTube vids.”
“Haha. That young guy could shred, that’s for sure.”
“Do you miss it?” They hadn’t discussed his past other than in superficial ways, so she had no clue. He had to, didn’t he? He wouldn’t have been there watching the Splitting Braincells’ set if he didn’t. Or could he watch because he was over it? Really, though, she hoped her text hadn’t ruined their conversation. Ugh, Elle, even your thumbs have no filter.
His text came not long after. “Yes and no. A better conversation/explanation in person than through text. Will answer on Saturday during breakfast. Promise.”
She put her hands to her mouth and squealed. Oh, he was good. It was a better answer than she could have hoped for. “Will hold you to that.” Then, before he replied, inspiration struck. “Parents going to fundraiser Wednesday night. I hate eating alone. Join me?” She held her breath waiting for a reply, and when she saw it, her entire world deflated.
“Will get back to you later in the week about time and place for Saturday.” Seconds later, though, her head shot back into the stratosphere. “Sorry, got your Wednesday text as I sent the weekend one. Yes, I’d love to have dinner with you Wednesday.”
“Great! I can’t wait!” And she meant it with all her heart.
“Me, too!” He also added both the smiling face wearing sunglasses and the winking one. Oh my god, that’s too cute!
Her hand flew to her lips, as the memory of their kiss last night hit her. Would they do that again? A lot? Oh, goodness, she hoped so. In fact, she’d do everything in her powers to make it happen.
His next text brought a small pang of sadness, but also got her to grin. “Need to head into work for a little bit, so dropping out of our convo for now. Not ignoring you on purpose, promise.”
She texted him a sad face, but followed it with a winking one with the words, “Text when you finish?”
“Try and stop me. Until then, my princess.”

Holy fuck! She reached behind for her pillow and mashed it to her face as she screamed her exuberant joy. She was his princess. YES!

Chapter Four: His Hard Rockin' Princess

Read Ch. 3 by clicking here

Chapter 4


Tim walked next to Rich and Mandy, his new friends, on the way back to the campground Sunday night after the festival ended. Elle, his other new friend, danced a few feet ahead, humming songs from Blackest the Night, the night’s headliner. He took her to the pit down front to watch, as he’d done with a few of the bands, including Crushed Edges, her favorite band, last night. They made sure to stay clear of the actual mosh pits that broke out closer to the middle, so they had a great time in the mass of excited humanity. He also introduced her to the guys of Crushed Edges, which earned him even more points, though, for whatever reason, he didn’t need to score bonus points to impress her. What was it about this girl?
He loved how she enjoyed most of the bands today, and he meant all day, not just the main stage. The four of them, six, counting his RV neighbors, enjoyed breakfast together before hitting the festival grounds for 12 more hours of head-banging. And plenty of Elle’s sexy dancing, it turned out. He gave a quick head-shake to clear that thought out of his mind. He had a hard enough time concentrating on his conversation with Rich and Mandy while watching Elle skip ahead of them, kicking rocks, sticks, and leaves in time with the beats in her head.
“You three want to have a few drinks at my RV before turning in?” he asked. “I have plenty of caffeine-free sodas, and I’m brewing some decaf.” He didn’t add there would be no booze, as they’d had a long discussion about alcohol earlier, and how he hadn’t consumed any since his drunk driving accident.
“Sounds great,” Rich said. “I’d also love to hear some of those demos you bragged about earlier if you don’t mind.” Tim told him how he’d converted all his old demos from Splitting Braincells, as well as some he recorded of him noodling on his guitars, into mp3 files. He had them on digital recorders, but mp3s made playback much easier.
“Not a brag, but a fact,” he said, and it got all three laughing. Elle turned her head to see what was funny, and kicked a rock a bit too hard, almost clipping someone ahead of them.
“Elle!” he snapped, “be careful what you’re doing. You could hurt someone.”
“Sorry,” she said, and trotted over to his side, her head bowed, chastised.
Shit, he hadn’t meant to overstep his bounds; he didn’t want her to hurt someone with one of those rocks. Had she been abused at some point in her life? The way she scurried to his side without meeting his eyes proved that might be the case. As she clutched his arm, he glanced over to Rich and Mandy to see what they had to say about the scene, but both wore looks of confusion, and he had the distinct feeling it had to do with her reaction, not his tone.
“I won’t do it again, I promise,” she said, apprehension in her voice.
“No, it’s fine. I just wanted you to be careful with those rocks. How would you like it if someone hit you while you minded your own business?”
“I wouldn’t,” she whispered, and then looked up at him, an expression of pleading on her face. What the fuck? Had his tone been so clipped? What had she gone through in her life to react that way?
He took his arm back so he could wrap it around her shoulders. “I didn’t mean to sound so stern. I’m sorry.”
She grinned up at him and leaned deeper into his body. Holy shit, yeah, this feels right. What the hell was it with this girl?
He looked back over to Rich and Mandy to see if they said anything now, but they had their heads together in a private conversation. He could swear he heard Rich mutter, “Is that my sister? When has she ever acted like this?”
So this wasn’t normal behavior. He took a deep breath and felt her shudder a bit. “Are you cold?”
“A little.” She smiled, and it took every bit of willpower not to lean down and plant a kiss on her lips. Instead, he nudged her in front of him.
“Here, let’s keep in step, and I’ll rub the warmth back into your arms.”
She matched his stride and whispered, “‘K”
As he rubbed her arms, he heard Mandy snicker. He looked over with a questioning look. She shook her head, and mouthed, “Later.” He nodded and smiled.
Once they reached his RV, he unlocked it and hopped inside to turn on some lights, and then motioned them up. “I thought we’d sit outside, but as Elle mentioned, it’s a little chilly. Besides, Rich, I’m sure you’ll hear the tunes in here better than out there. I’m not going to blast them at this time of night, despite everyone in the campground still being awake.”
“Sounds good to me,” he said.
He motioned them to sit on the couch or one of the mounted swivel chairs, and then took drink orders. “Like I said, I’m brewing a pot of decaf, but I also have cans of soda, both caffeinated and not, and plenty of bottled water.”
“If you’re making coffee, that’s my choice,” Mandy said.
“Me, too,” Rich said.
When Elle didn’t chime in, he said, “Soda and water in the fridge. Help yourself. Let me know if you want a glass.”
“No, I’ll have coffee, too.”
Mandy let out a snort, while Rich said, “I don’t think he has enough cream and sugar for you to have coffee.”
She stuck her tongue out at both of them, and he held in a laugh. “I have plenty of both, I assure you. Now sit, everyone. The beauty of an RV is the kitchen is right here, so you can get comfortable and we can talk.”
Rich and Mandy plopped onto the couch, and though there was plenty of room next to them, Elle hesitated and looked at him.
“Where are you sitting?” she asked.
Before he could answer, Mandy whispered, “Oh my god, pick a spot, you little hussy.”
He tried everything in his power to pretend he didn’t hear, but when Elle’s eyes went wide, and she fired back, “Oh my god, shut up,” in a whisper of her own, he couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. She shot him a look, horrified embarrassment written all over her.
“I’m sitting in a swivel chair. Why don’t you choose one. They’re comfortable.”
She sat, and he turned around to get the coffee started, hiding his grin. It went wider when he heard Rich say, “What’s gotten into you tonight?”
Elle didn’t say anything, but Mandy whispered, “Leave her alone. She’s…” She then giggled.
“I said shut up!” Elle whisper-shouted.
Tim couldn’t help himself. He turned his head, caught Elle’s gaze, and winked. She gasped, turned bright red, but a goofy smile formed on her lips.
That’s when the situation hit Rich, as he mumbled, “Oh, fuck,” and then turned to Tim, gave him a slight head-shake, and mouthed, “Your funeral, pal.”
Neither Elle nor Mandy caught it, so he couldn’t help smiling. It wasn’t a threat from an overprotective brother, but a warning about Elle’s personality, which Rich described earlier as “bratty with a side of bitch.” He saw some of it on display today, and had to admit he found it endearing.
As he turned back to his little kitchen area, a spider climbed along the bottom of the sink. It wasn’t too big, and wouldn’t hurt anything, but he didn’t want it in here. It would be easy enough to grab a paper towel and squash it, but he couldn’t bring himself to kill the thing. It hadn’t done anything wrong. Ever since his accident those 8 years ago, the thought of hurting anything, even something as little as this spider, churned his stomach. He grabbed a plastic cup next to the sink, placed it over the thing, and slid it around. The spider took the bait and climbed onto the side. He tore off a paper towel and placed it over the opening. Seconds later, he had the thing out the door and back out in the wilds where it could catch bugs to its hearts content. He found no irony in it; that was nature, not the barbarism he would have committed by squishing it. Rich and Mandy chuckled at his actions, but he could see the small smile on Elle’s lips. She approved, and though he hadn’t done it for her, his heart sung.
Talk then turned to the festival, and they discussed both the music and meeting so many of the bands backstage. Rich gushed again about how cool it had been for Tim to introduce him to the guys of Splitting Braincells last night, and he said he was glad to. Especially since Rich had made sure to mention Moth Man was still his favorite member. The guys laughed, though Julian, the guitarist who’d replaced him, put on a fake pout and said he’d been with the band longer than Moth Man, and had been on more records. That brought out more laughter from everyone. Tim couldn’t imagine a better guy than Julian replacing him as lead shredder. They had then signed Elle’s notebook, posed for a few pictures, and hit the stage. And, of course, like always, they killed it.
Once the coffee finished brewing, filling the RV with the sweet and bitter scents, Tim poured four mugs. Both Rich and Mandy took theirs black, like his. Before he poured Elle’s, he said, “Why don’t you come over here and supervise so I know how much room to leave for cream and sugar.”
She hesitated for a second, and then said, “I’ll take mine black, too.”
“Elle, it’s rude to accept coffee only to dump it out,” Rich said.
“I won’t,” she said, exasperation in her voice.
He passed two to Rich so he could hand Mandy hers, and then hand-delivered Elle’s. As he did, he whispered, “If you change your mind about cream and sugar, feel free. And if you decide you’d rather have something else, I won’t be offended. I’ll even drink yours so they don’t yell at you again about wasting it. Okay?”
She gave a slight nod and smile, and bit her bottom lip. He didn’t know if she did it on purpose, but either way, he had to fight every instinct inside him to not kiss her. Hard. And, lord almighty, he might have if her brother and sister-in-law weren’t sitting a few feet away. He also could tell without a doubt she would welcome his advance. Somehow he managed to find his own seat without spilling any of his own hot decaffeinated brew.
Talk about the festival resumed, and soon 2 am snuck up on them. He, Rich, and Mandy all had refills, and while Elle didn’t drink her coffee fast, she did finish it. He had a feeling it was to spite her brother, as she admitted it wasn’t great.
As they stood to head back to their tent, Tim said, “Shit, Rich, I’m sorry. I forgot to put on those demos for you.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Mandy said. “I have a feeling you guys will be seeing each other again.” She motioned towards Elle, who gave her sister-in-law a blank look.
Tim chuckled, and said, “Yeah, you’re right.” He exchanged phone numbers with each of them this morning—or yesterday morning, as it was well past midnight—in case they got separated, and he knew he wanted to use Elle’s once he got home. She lived maybe a half-hour away from him, closer if traffic behaved.
That’s when the meaning of the comment dawned on Elle, and she gasped, her eyes wide and cheeks pink. “Yes,” she said in a harsh, throaty whisper.
Mandy let out a laugh, while Rich mumbled, “Christ.” He then patted Tim on the shoulder as he headed for the door. “Like I said, your funeral,” but he chuckled this time. Mandy swatted Rich’s shoulder and told him to knock it off, but Elle didn’t hear.
Once they all stepped outside, it seemed most of the campground had gone to bed, so they talked in whispers. “Breakfast again tomorrow?” he asked. “Or are you guys pulling out early?” The campground rules stated everyone had until 10 am to vacate. He planned on using that entire time.
“Actually,” Rich said, “If the ladies don’t mind, we might head out now. I’m still a bit wired, and we can be home in half an hour, while it’ll take well over an hour in the morning.”
“Sounds good to me,” Mandy said. “I could use a shower.”
“No,” Elle said, tears in her eyes. “I want to stay for breakfast.”
“Elle…” Rich started, but Tim cut him off.
“Why don’t you two go get packed, and I’ll bring Elle over in a few minutes.”
Mandy and Rich headed off, and he motioned Elle to him. She exploded into his arms, and continued sniffling, trying, he could tell, not to cry harder. He held her, not saying anything for a moment. After a minute or two, she pulled back a little and said, “Sorry.”
He wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “Nothing to be sorry about. I’m guessing the fact that you’re tired played a major part. I’m exhausted, and I have an actual bed in here.” He tapped the wall of the RV.
She giggled. “Yeah. But…it’s more.” She looked up at him, and he gasped at her absolute beauty. He’d been with her all day, marveled at it whenever he so much as glanced at her, but it still took him by surprise each time. He fought every instinct inside to not lean down and kiss her, but again managed.
“How about we call it a rain-check and I take you out to breakfast next weekend, Saturday or Sunday. Your choice. Whatever day works best for you.”
“Both days,” she said in a breathy whisper, and that did it. He couldn’t keep himself in check any longer. He placed a soft kiss on her lips, pulled away a few inches, and then dove back in, harder. She moaned and kissed back. Their lips parted, and their tongues danced together, both fighting for dominance, and then playing a game of give and take. He’d never been so captivated by anyone. She felt like she belonged in his arms, on his lips. He had to wield every bit of self-control to keep from picking her up and carrying her into the RV. If her brother and sister-in-law wouldn’t be looking for her soon, he might have done it. He didn’t know what they’d say about this display itself, but didn’t care enough to stop. He couldn’t stop. Elle felt too perfect, too lovely, too…his.
“Elle, it’s time to go,” Mandy’s voice rang out behind them, though she sounded amused rather than angry. They jumped and pulled apart.
“Give us a few more minutes,” Elle said.
“Rich has the car started.”
“One more minute and I’ll be there.”
“Elle,” Mandy said, exasperation in her voice.
“C’mon, get out of here and don’t be so argumentative,” he said. “I’ll see you next weekend, and we have each other’s phone numbers. Call or text me any time. Okay?”
“Okay,” she said, reached up for one more kiss, and then ran off towards their camp and waiting car.
Mandy gave him a quick hug. “Thanks. I’m not sure what sort of hold you have over her, but please don’t stop. You’re good for her.”
He chuckled. “I have no clue, either, but I can guarantee she has a hold over me, too. Safe travels, and tell Rich I owe him a listening party.”
“He’ll love that. Thanks for everything this weekend. We all enjoyed meeting and hanging out with you. And as I said earlier, I’m sure we’ll see plenty of each other from now on.”
“Yeah, I hope so.”
He must have worn a wistful look while he said it because she laughed, and then waved bye. He  hopped into the RV and headed back to the minuscule bedroom to try to get at least a few hours of sleep. If it would be possible after that day and that kiss.

Read Ch. 5 by clicking here


Chapter Three: His Hard Rockin' Princess

Read Ch. 2 by clicking here

Chapter 3


Elle bounced all the way to the gate that led them backstage. This was so cool! She also couldn’t help but laugh at her brother, as he might have been more excited. Mandy joked earlier she’d have to keep a firm grip on his arm to keep him from floating away, but now it looked as if she did have him tight. Elle clutched the laminated pass on her lanyard as they approached the security guards. She remembered all the times through high school, and even some in college, when people talked about trying to sneak backstage, saying confidence was key. She didn’t need to worry about confidence tonight, as these passes were genuine. Rich, with some help from Dad, secured them at work, Sullivan Advertising. Dad owned it, while Rich was his second-in-command and someday successor. They tried to get her into the family business, too, but she had no interest. Maybe after college if she still didn’t know what she wanted to be when she grew up, but not yet.
The security team waved them through, and she and Rich grinned at each other so big she thought her face might crack. Bring on the rock stars! She had autographs to get. Along with the CD cover for Crushed Edges’ latest album, their best yet, she also carried a small notebook for anyone else famous. Maybe even some of the bands from earlier would be back here. She hadn’t known most of them, but enjoyed so many of the sounds. Rich would point out anyone of interest to get signatures. No doubt she’d end up having to share the notebook with him, but she didn’t mind. Mandy, for her part, got drafted into picture duty with her phone.
The first band, Coiled Recognition, would start in about fifteen minutes, so commotion surrounded the stage as the roadies moved everything into position and made sure the instruments sounded right. Despite not being media, their passes allowed them in the standing section to the left of the stage. Rich didn’t see anyone he recognized, so they checked out their vantage point. She couldn’t wait to watch from here. Sure, it would be a better pure view from the front row of the amphitheater, but this was so much cooler. None of her friends could say they’d seen a big concert like this.
While they stood waiting, a guy in his mid-20s or so, with a faux-hawk haircut and wearing a buttoned-up striped shirt and skinny jeans, stepped up next to her. He gave her an appraising look that made her want to punch him in the teeth, and said, “Crushed Edges fan, eh?”
She gave him a sappy sweet smile. “No, my brother let me borrow the shirt for this weekend. He said it would make me stand out less than my Katy Perry one.”
He smirked. “It’s nice you can be here anyway. I’m sure your brother will enjoy the show.”
“Yeah, he will. Not me, though. I won’t know to cheer when the opening riff of ‘Big Chugger’ starts, meaning the boys are about to take the stage. I also won’t get the significance of ‘Jagged Lines’ because I have no idea Boyd Henderson’s older brother died from cutting himself too deep with a razor blade. I also won’t know to get excited when Jason starts the opening riff of ‘Not a Party Machine.’ It’s too bad because it all sounds like a kick-ass set.” She threw a smirk of her own at the guy, who looked bemused and backed away, telling her to enjoy the show.
Mandy snorted and gave her a nudge. “You could have told him you were a fan instead of making him feel so small. Not that I didn’t enjoy watching it.”
She waited for Rich to call her bratty with a side of bitch, his favorite phrase when she did something like that, but instead he said, “Oh, shit.”
What? Had the guy gone to get someone to kick her out? Was he a true VIP who didn’t like to feel belittled? She didn’t care about making him feel stupid, as she hated the way he blatantly checked her out. It would be plenty petty of him to do so, but she’d met enough famous people through Dad’s company who thought too much of themselves to not be surprised. Instead, she found Rich staring in awe at…
…him. Her mystery older guy, the one who made her feel tingly both this morning and afternoon. And he did it again now, even if he wasn’t looking at her. Oh, god, what was it about him? She realized she couldn’t breathe.
“What?” Mandy asked. Elle thought she said it to her for a second, but instead she directed the query at Rich.
“That’s Moth Man. Moth Man Wade, the original lead guitarist for Splitting Braincells. Holy hell, I worshiped him back in high school.”
“Go introduce yourself,” she said, nudging him. “Elle can get his autograph, and I’ll snap a picture. This is why we’re backstage, remember?”
“I can’t. He’s Moth Man. I don’t think I’ll be able to say anything.”
Mandy’s voice held exasperation, but Elle heard the humor in it, too. “You’ve met plenty of celebrities at work. He’s no different. Go say hi, tell him you’re a fan, and I’ll get a picture. Elle, drag your brother over there and get an autograph.”
She didn’t answer. She’d followed the conversation, but her eyes had never left the guy, this Moth Man. What kind of name was that? A nickname, but why? She wanted to walk over and ask him, but her feet wouldn’t move. When was she ever like this?
“Elle?” Mandy prompted, followed by, “Oh my god!”
That snapped her out of it. “What?” She didn’t like the smirk on Mandy’s face.
“Are you star-struck like your brother, or crushing? He’s pretty hot, but maybe a little too old for you.”
“No! Oh my god. I was…” How could she finish that sentence? She also knew she had a nuclear-level blush going. Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look, she willed towards him, which, of course, brought the opposite effect. His eyes wandered over to them before stopping on her. Her heart, thanks to Mandy’s teasing, had managed to work its way into her chest from her throat, but now it shot back up. Oh, his eyes…
“Look, he sees us,” Mandy said. “Now it’ll be more rude if you don’t go over and talk to him.” Elle’s gaze didn’t leave Moth Man’s, but she heard the near-laughter in Mandy’s voice. “Come on, you two.”
And just like that, they headed towards him. In any other situation, she would have been giddy at how much fun she could have picking on Rich for being star-struck. He never batted an eye when they met a celebrity. They didn't affect her, either, but that changed big-time tonight. Only Mandy held it together as she pushed and prodded them to meet this beautiful, beautiful Moth Man.
He watched them approach, his eyes not leaving hers, but growing bigger and bigger as they drew closer. Was she doing the same? She both hoped not and didn’t care. She was going to meet him; oh, god, she was going to meet him. Could she say hi? Would her voice even work?
“Moth Man,” Mandy said, a bright smile in her voice. “Hope you don’t mind, but you have two huge fans here who would love to meet you.”
Mandy stretched out her hand to shake his, which broke the spell between him and Elle. She blinked hard a few times and let out a gasp she hoped wasn’t too loud. He then shook Rich’s hand, and her brother managed to find his voice.
“Hi, Moth Man, uh, Mr. Wade. I know I’m going to make a fool of myself, but I was such a fan back when you were in Splitting Braincells. I had a fake ID in high school so I could get into the 18-and-over-clubs. You were the best I’ve ever seen.”
Moth Man laughed and clapped Rich on the shoulder. “Thanks, I appreciate it. But, please, call me Moth Man or Tim, not Mr. Wade. And feel free to insert a corny, overused joke here about how Mr. Wade is my father.”
Rich and Mandy laughed, and while somewhere in the back of Elle’s mind she found the joke funny, she couldn’t help but blurt out, “Wait, how come you keep saying ‘were’? Why aren’t you still their guitarist? They’re playing tonight.”
She gasped as soon as it left her mouth. Crap, why couldn’t she have a filter? True, she usually didn’t care if she came off as rude, but she did with him. Moth Man. Tim.
He turned towards her, his eyes intense, but the corners of his mouth raised in a smile. It melted her insides, but she managed, through some sort of autopilot, to lift her hand to shake his when offered. When their skin touched, she jumped as if shocked. Plus, her insides poured down in a lumpy puddle at the soles of her feet, and her girlie parts burned in absolute fire. Oh, god, shut up, shut up, shut up!
“I’m Tim,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, husky. Oh, wow, am I affecting him, too? She liked that idea.
“Elle,” she somehow managed to whisper back.
She might have stayed there the rest of the night, holding both his gaze and his hand, but real life had to, of course, rear it’s ugly head in the form of Mandy’s annoying—at least at the moment—snicker. Tim’s smile grew in a knowing way, and then he dropped her hand and turned his attention back to Rich and Mandy. He and Rich discussed music, and though she wanted to listen in, to gain some insight to this wonderful specimen of a man, she couldn’t get her head on straight. She gave a quick glance over to Mandy and winced. Shit! As always, her sister-in-law saw straight through her. Though at the moment the entire back stage area could probably tell what dominated her mind. If she were a boy, everyone would say she was thinking with her other head. Shit-shit-shit! Maybe she could excuse herself to the bathroom and stay there for the rest of the show. She could always peek out when Crushed Edges came on stage.
Don’t be dumb, she scolded herself. You’re an adult. Sort of. Act like it!
She took a deep breath, plastered a smile on her face, ignored Mandy’s penetrating gaze, and did everything in her power to follow the conversation between Tim and Rich. They talked about the bands from earlier in the day. Had she missed the important details, her question about why he wasn’t a guitarist anymore? If so, she could ask Rich later. He’d know all the sordid details. She managed to hold her tongue until a natural pause in the conversation followed, and then blurted out, in her typical inarticulate (stupid!) manner, “Why do they call you Moth Man? It seems a little silly.”
“Elle,” Rich muttered in his defeated, scornful voice he so often used with her.
Yes, big brother, I accept your scorn this time.
Tim turned to her, a smile on his face, and his eyes again devouring her. God, he really could devour her for all she cared. For all she wanted. Feast on, big boy! Come and get it.
Holy hell, she never even felt like this with Harris Tynes, her boyfriend throughout her entire junior and senior years of high school. She liked him enough to let him take her virginity in the summer between the two, and they continued sexing each other up whenever they could almost until the end, but her feelings for him never came close to what she felt for this stranger.
“It was meant to be silly. Meant to make me feel stupid, but I owned it, and it became mine. Back in junior high, some brainiac bully discovered the word ‘moth’ sat in the middle of Timothy, so that’s what he called me. It ticked me off royal at first, but my best friend started saying Moth Man in a cool way, not condescending, and I loved it. I became Moth Man for the rest of junior high and all through high school. It continued with Splitting Braincells until…” He stopped and held up his left hand.
What did he mean? Her face must have been full of confusion, because he continued. “Not long after I turned 21, as soon as we hit the big time, I got into a motorcycle accident. Crushed my fretting hand so bad that I’d never be a touring musician again. I can play for five or ten minutes now, but any more and it starts to ache.”
She gasped and without thinking grasped his hand and stroked it, as if she could cure all that ailed him. He moaned, and it zipped through her, straight to her girlie parts. God, how could she want this man so bad, so soon? She knew nothing about him, not to mention he was at least a decade her senior.
At that moment the first band of the night hit the stage. The lights dimmed around them and the fanfare started, and the mammoth crowd on the other side of the stage roared. That’s when she found Rich and Mandy had left her alone with him. They headed towards the media viewing area.
He leaned in close and said, “I’d love to keep talking to you. Do you want to go watch the band, and then continue our conversation between sets?” He swiped his fingers of his left hand across her cheek, and it was her turn to moan. He smiled, and it looked like he might lean down and kiss her. Yes! Do it! Instead, he stopped short, looked to be going through his own internal monologue—she could sure relate to that!—and shook his head as if clearing it. He then smiled, stepped towards the viewing area, and offered his arm. She grinned and took it.

Read Ch. 4 by clicking here