Go back to the days of high school and college with Crystal and Chad...
Chad is in the band Reckless. Crystal is their biggest fan, but the band treats her like she's just a groupie. Reckless isn't really going anywhere, mostly because their rhythm guitarist, Phil, plays without energy or passion.
On his own, Chad decides to replace Phil with Crystal. The rest of the band balks until they hear her play. Then they quickly forget Chad went around them and welcome Crystal to the band.
After Crystal and Chad both go through painful break-ups, Crystal is a bit jaded. Then a new musician in town, Paulie, walks into their lives. He is exactly what Crystal and Reckless need. He takes the band and Crystal's heart for a ride none of them will ever forget.
Amazon:
Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/ book/show/18742531-reckless
EXCERPT:
“I found the perfect
rhythm guitarist,” Chad said to Andy, as he looked at me and winked.
I wrung my hands and
hoped they accepted me. There were all-girl bands in our high school, but that
was not the same. Joining Reckless would change things, hopefully for the
better.
I closed my eyes for
a few seconds and imagined playing for a crowd like Gasoline attracted.
Suddenly, Tommy Fischer, their bassist, came into the vision. He was playing
right next to me. Then he leaned forward and kissed me.
“Wait. I play
rhythm,” Phil countered, jolting me out of my fantasy.
Andy scowled. “Why
the fuck d’you keep making decisions for all of us?”
Chad ignored Andy and
laughed. “Sorry, man, but you suck. We need a roadie anyway.”
“Fuck that, man!”
Phil put his guitar on a stand. “You can’t just bring some guy in here after we
been working all these months.” He paused a few seconds. “Hey! What’d you mean,
I suck?”
Daniel was twirling a
stick as he sat behind the drum set. “Well, you do, dude. None of us wanted to
tell you. Guess Chad finally got the balls.”
“If we wanna play
gigs, we gotta sound good,” Jay added.
Phil sat down and
pouted for a minute then asked, “So where is he?”
Arms folded over his
chest, Andy glared at Chad. “Yeah, where is he? Phil’s replacement could at
least be on time.”
Chad grinned. “She’s
here.”
“Crystal?” Andy
asked. “You gotta be shitting me!” He quickly doubled over with laughter and
couldn’t stop.
Daniel sighed. “We
can’t have a girl in the band. No one’d take us seriously.” He tapped a cymbal.
“Unless she’s gonna play naked.” His eyebrows rose.
Chad glared at Daniel
for a few seconds then turned to me. “Baby.” He handed me his guitar. “Blow
them away.”
I smiled widely and
got in position to play. I took a deep breath and started Gasoline’s “Devil’s
Boy,” playing the lead line.
When I was done, the
garage was completely silent. Everyone was staring at me with their mouths
open. Including Andy from the floor, where he had fallen. I grinned, more proud
of myself than I had ever been.
“How the hell did you
do that?” Daniel broke the silence.
Chad beamed. “She’s
amazing. Ain’t she?” He kissed my cheek. “See, baby girl? Told ya.” He had
never been so excited.
“I know.” I looked up
at him towering over me. “You taught me well.”
Phil jumped up. “So,
what’re you guys waiting for? She kicks ass! Tell her she can play!”
Andy stood up and
came over to Chad and I. “I’m sorry I laughed at you.” He held his hand out.
“Welcome to the band.” Obviously, he’d let go the fact that Chad pushed me on
them.
I shook his hand as
excitement filled me. “Cool, thanks.”
“Now let’s play ‘Fuck
’Em All.’ “ Daniel hit a snare drum. “Phil, give her your guitar.”
Phil stood up. “Get
the hell outta here! I get kicked out, and she plays my Gibson. No way!”
“I got mine right
here.” I walked to the back of the garage and opened a case against the back
wall. When I had it plugged in, I asked, “Ready?”
Then Daniel started
his intro. Soon after Chad came in, I did as well, playing a piece I had
written weeks ago for the song. With Chad’s encouragement, I had written a
rhythm part for every one of their songs. Phil’s were not my style. At that
moment, I realized Chad planned to get me into the band all along.
“Damn!” Jay shouted
when it had ended. “That was 10 times better.” He cringed and looked towards
Phil who was pouting again. “Sorry, man. But she can wail.”
Phil exhaled loudly.
“Yeah, I know, but you don’t gotta be so happy about it.”
We played several
more songs, and they had the same reaction to them. I smiled when I realized
they weren’t going to change their minds. I was really in a band. Finally!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Bella Jeanisse hails from New York City. At 10 years old,
Bella picked up her first guitar. She was instantly hooked. Because of her deep
passion for tall men, rock music, tattoos and motorcycles, she has gotten to
know many musicians and roadies over the years—in every possible way. And
although she has been writing risqué stories about musicians for many years,
she has just recently taken these tales to the next level revealing, through
her protagonists, the hold some of these men still have on her. They have
inspired more than they ever imagined.
Now living in Florida with her three sons, she juggles
domestic responsibilities, a social life, her career as an IT professional and
her writing as carefully as possible. They do cross paths as you have seen in
her first collection of short stories. Her life is busy and full, yet very
fulfilling.
The few limits Bella puts on her love-life may be found as
but a shadow in her writing. She draws from life, fantasy and inspiration to
create each tale.
Bella has broadened her horizons to include short stories,
Insatiable Appetites, with many more to come, some just a sentence at this
point. The subjects range from military men to biker chicks to naughty doctors
and much, much more.
The Triple Threat universe is growing… Wicked End 2 (Sinful
Needs) is next. Gasoline 2 (Evolving Urges) and Triple Threat 3 (Dual Desires)
are in process. Soon enough you’ll get to know Silverblade, Main Street and
Brass Monkey too… so many hot rock stars, so little time to make them come to
life.
Follow Bella on Twitter @BellaJeanisse and on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/Bella.Jeanisse.Books.
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