A Second Chance at love The Rocker Girls Series

A Second Chance at
love

The Rocker Girls
Series

By: Jennifer
Byars

Copyright 2015 Jennifer
Byars

This story is a work of fiction. All
names, characters, places and incidents are invented by the author
or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real.
Any similarity to actual persons or events is purely
coincidental.

All rights are reserved. No part of
this book may be reproduced in form or by any means without the
prior written consent of the author.

ISBN 978-0-9963634-6-4

Published by Bare Tree Press, United
States of America

Smashwords Edition, License
Notes

This ebook is licensed for your
personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given
away to other people. If you would like to share this book with
another person, please purchase an additional copy for each
recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or
it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to
Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting
the hard work of this author.

This book is dedicated to my
wonderful husband Bob…

You’ll always be my rock
star baby!

Acknowledgments

I just want to take a minute to thank
all the wonderful people in my life that have helped me make my
dream of becoming an author a reality.

First I want to thank my husband and
children for all your love, all your support, and always
understanding when mom is wrapped up in book and forgets things.
For my husband who finds ways to help me find way to keep my dreams
of publishing my books alive, and for believing in everything I do
so completely. (Except the bills… I really stink at the bills!
LOL!)

I love you all so much! I can honestly
tell the world that the best thing about being an author is, how
proud of me you all are when you tell your friends what I do. I
love you, and thank you from the bottom of my heart!

To all my loving and dear friends… What
can I say? You are the voice that breaks through when I start to
doubt myself and my writing. You are the first ones to tell me what
to change in a book knowing that I need that second opinion to make
it everything I want it to be. You are my girls, and you know who
you are, and I just wanted you to say thank you for all your
encouragement, support, and for those five words that keep me
writing… when’s the next book Jen?

Last but not least an enormous Thank
You and heartfelt gratitude to Mark, Betsy, Colin, and to Colin’s
staff, whom are forever dubbed when I talk about them to people as…
my team. (Yup, I’ve adopted you all!). You all are the absolute
best, and I am truly grateful for all your work and dedication you
all put into each and every one of my books to make them simple
amazing. I just wanted you all to know how much that means to me
and how much I truly appreciate everything you all do.

Thank You!

XOXO

Prologue

It was 11 p.m. on a hot Hollywood
summer night. This was the time of night when the city was starting
to really come alive. The craziness on the Boulevard was jumping
and it was the girls’ favorite time of the night. But instead of
living the scene, they were in the Hollywood Hills trying to get a
whole bunch of shit out of a house where they stayed with their
best friend, the lead singer of their band Spitfire.

Three women snuck into the house,
trying to retrieve everything their friend needed before they got
the hell out of California. “Shit, Mindy, get the guitar!” called
the bass player for the hundredth time. “I swear if Jimmy sees us
getting Addison’s shit, he’s going to go postal!” Her jet-black
short hair was spiked in the front and the tips were dyed blue. Her
dark makeup was smudged from rubbing her hands over her face when
Addison called earlier today from the hospital. Her tall frame
threw the luggage into the 1980 van easily, since she was the one
who really worked out in the group.

Mindy ran into the house, then back to
the van where she put a very expensive guitar in its box, before it
got damaged. They tucked it carefully into the back away from the
shit Lynn was throwing in in a hurry.

Jimmy was passed out across
the street in his Fiero, drinking himself into a stupor once again
after he’d beat the hell out of Addison. She must have found him
with another woman, and told him, once again, she was leaving his
ass. But it’s hard to get a divorce from
the
James Richardson. And even
harder when his manager is the famous Nickels, who can make
anything go away for the rich and famous.

“
I’m trying, Lynn, cut me
some slack!” Mindy hissed back at her. “Who knew marrying a rock
god could lead to so much trouble!” sighed the little brunette. Her
brown doe-like eyes looked over to Lynn and they both
frowned.

Margie shut the front door and locked
it. They needed everything to look normal, if or when Jimmy tried
to get into the house tomorrow. “I just got a call from Ad at the
hospital, she’s able to leave now. She said her arm’s in a cast.”
She shook her head. “So let’s get her, and then get the heck out of
here,” she whispered to the girls.

The girls quietly piled into the van,
and headed out to get their best friend from the emergency room
where her husband had put her earlier that evening. “Don’t forget
Tia. Ad will kill us if we forget her!” Mindy told Lynn, who was
driving at the moment.

The girls were quiet on the way. “So
did she tell you, Margie, just where the hell we’re going, to
escape fortune, fame, and the long arm of Jimmy?” Lynn
asked.

Margie sat back with her glasses on,
texting on the phone. “It seems, girls, we’re heading to Cleveland,
Ohio,” she told the group.

“
Are you fucking kidding
me?” yelled Lynn. “How the hell are we going to get laid in
Cleveland fucking Ohio?” she barked out.

“
There are many other
things that we need to get through first, before you’re worried
about getting laid, Lynn. Addison’s just got out of the hospital.
We need to get her away from Jimmy for good this time,” Margie
hissed.

Lynn’s head fell back against the seat
as she drove. She pulled out a smoke and lit it. “Yeah, well, the
last time would have worked if Mindy could keep her damn legs and
mouth shut around Dax.”

They heard Mindy gasp from the back of
the van. “That’s so not fair! I didn’t think he would tell him. He
told me it was an accident, it just slipped out!” she said, sitting
back and pouting.

“
Yeah, I know, it slipped
out, while he slipped his ass in… Too late to do anything about it
now. Let’s get Tia, and then swing by to pick up Ad. If we play our
cards right, Jimmy will never know that we’ve gone until he sobers
up, and if we’re lucky that will be about four tomorrow afternoon.”
Lynn scowled.

Chapter 1

In the heart of downtown Cleveland
there was an apartment building known as the Wanex. Nobody really
knew how the building got the name. It was said that a
once-struggling musician was too drunk to tell a cabby the name of
the building he lived at and babbled something about wanex, and it
just stuck. The Wanex was the home of Cleveland’s hottest band,
Inferno.

South Parker was the lead singer for
the band Inferno. Standing at six feet three, with his shaggy sandy
blond hair and sea-green eyes, yeah—he’d be the first to tell you
he had the women falling into his bed every night. He made sure he
worked out every day after work to keep himself in shape, and it
helped with the construction work he did for a living.

Winston Malloye (the guys called him
Win for short) was the lead guitar player for the band Inferno. He
was six feet five of lean-built muscle. He boxed every night when
he came home from work, and the only times he’d miss were the
nights they were on stage. His styled auburn hair was short, but
had just enough thickness to let the ladies run their fingers
through it. His eyes were dark blue, and he drove all the women
nuts, and he loved the fucking attention. His left arm was one
complete tattoo that went over his shoulder and onto his chest. And
he had his piercings…but that was his business.

The guys loved to party and have a good
time. Becoming famous was something they’d always wanted, but they
were having a fucking good time just playing the field and
partying. Then they got a call from some hotshot agent in
California saying he saw a video of them on YouTube, and he wanted
to see them play in person.

One of the chicks from the club must’ve
shot a video with her phone and uploaded it to the Internet, which
was the only thing the guys could think of. This guy said he wanted
to feel the vibe in the room when they sang, whatever the fuck that
meant, and if they played as good in person as they did in that
video, he would like to sign them to a recording deal. Might as
well ride the wave until the end, they all concluded.

They played in the downtown heavy-rock
area of Cleveland, and at the bar known only as The Tab. You could
say they owned this town and the rock scene; they had groupies
spreading their legs for them every damn night. The only question
was, how many girls they’d have in their beds in one
evening.

It was turning out to be a sticky
summer and the damn apartment had no air conditioning in it. South
was already sweating his ass off so early in the morning. A body
was stuck to his side, making him feel disgusting, because she was
sweating as well. In truth Win was getting a little tired of all
the same chicks that were rolling out of his bed every morning. But
he had his two women screaming out his name, shaking the damn
walls, just before wrapping it up to kick out last night’s
groupies.

South peeled himself out from under the
girl he’d brought home last night. He hated when they got all
clinging when they slept. He must have been pretty fucking drunk if
he didn’t kick her ass out after he came. Sitting up, he ran his
hands through his hair, trying to shake off the hangover, and
pulling on his boxers headed to take a shower.

He walked by Win’s room and pounded on
the door. Excited female voices echoed through the door. “Dude,
it’s 7:45. We need to get to fucking work. Wrap it up. I’m jumping
in the shower first.” He heard a grunt of acknowledgment, then made
his way into the bathroom.