Teacher: The Final Act (A Hollywood Rock n' Romance Trilogy #3) (19 page)

My family members are my biggest supporters and have made it possible for me to share my brand of crazy with all of you. Thanks to my husband, children, Mom, Dad, and sister for always being there when I needed a kick in the ass or a big hug.

My amazing writing partners, Ellay Branton and Kimberlie L. Faye, were instrumental in keeping me sane while I worked to get this book out. Their encouragement, knowledge and patience are invaluable in my writing process. I don’t know which of the Fates decided to put them in my path, but I’ll be eternally grateful.

Thank you to my friends in the Indie Author community for your continued support. I consider myself blessed to have you all in my life.

To my beta readers, those who have been with me from the beginning, and the new ones I’ve recently come to call friends, thank you for the use of your eyes and for allowing me to corrupt, I mean, entertain you with my tales of Rock ‘n’ Romance! Thank you for always being available to check over some crazy idea no matter the time frame or task. Without you I’d be nowhere.

To the Sexy Rock Goddesses of our Street Team…You ladies are always there to support us, be it with pictures of yummy food, pictures of yummy men, or a great song to get me through the day, thank you for sticking with Ellay, Kimberlie and I and helping us live the dream! Big hugs to you all.

I would love to connect with you! Here’s where you can find me lurking: Facebook at:
www.facebook.com/rowritesrocknromance

Email at
[email protected]

Twitter @
rlmerrillauthor

And my groovy website:
www.rlmerrillauthor.com
where you can find my newsletter-y thingie and stay up-to-date with the latest from my world of Rock ‘n’ Romance!  You can even pick up passwords to unlock short stories set in the Teacher, Haunted and The Rock Season worlds.

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Coming Soon!

Road Trip: A Rock Season Novel

Here’s a sneak peek at the story of Abra and Kelly.

July  2014

Abra

Ahhhh…  Summer vacation! Work hard all year, two and a half months off every summer.  Greatest gig in the world, right?  Actually, I really did have it good.  As a counselor at a continuation high school, I worked my ass off nine months of the year with the most desperate kids, so I allowed myself to play hard every summer. Playing hard for me meant going to as many concerts and festivals as I could squeeze in. Sweaty, hot, and loud…That’s what I needed, and I was about to have a fantastic fix this weekend, even if I was flying solo for the first time in a long time.  

Interstate 5 ran the length of California and driving it was always an adventure.  Running only two lanes in each direction, it was a constant game of Frogger trying to avoid the big rigs, tumbleweeds, assholes speeding in their Smart Cars—

Oh, hell no!  
I was not about to be passed by a damn Smart Car in my 2010 Mustang GT.  There were some things that could not stand.  The speed limit was seventy, I was going eighty, and this old guy was passing me at eighty-five…
Uh uh
! I stepped on the gas and flew right by him, my Metal road trip soundtrack urging me to step on it.

Heavy Metal was honestly the soundtrack of my life.  It allowed me to sing and scream along and get out all the aggression, anger, frustration, sadness, and yes, depression that my job brought along with it.  Healer heal thyself?  Yes, please!  Some Korn will do just fine, thank you!

In fact, I was headed to see Korn this very weekend! I was going to headbang, crowd surf, people watch, and just fucking LIVE! Yes!  If only I didn’t have a seven hour drive ahead of me.  Oh well.  It would be worth it.  

I drove the 580 to get out of the Bay Area and the traffic on this Friday night was killing me.  I’d waited to leave until ten o’clock, figuring I’d miss the traffic that way.  No such luck.  It seemed many of the East Bay’s inhabitants had the same idea: Beat the dog days of summer by getting out of town.  On the road there were tour buses, fifth wheels, RV’s towing cars and big trucks towing boats…It was insanity!

My first pit stop of the night was an hour into the trip.  Why did I do this to myself?  Some day I would learn to not start my trip with a 44 oz. Diet Coke!  There were a few families with screaming kids hanging around and others walking their dogs.  I stood in line for the restroom and got back in my car as soon as I could to avoid any unwanted attention.  Dressing the way I did usually kept people away from me, but there was always some jackass who saw a woman alone at night and figured she might ‘need some good lovin’.
Barf
.

I managed to make it another three hours without having to stop.  Barely.  By the time the next rest stop came into view I was nearly in tears from the pain in my bladder.  I’d been contemplating which would be worse, cleaning up an accident in the car, or copping a squat in the wide open space next to the road.  Luckily I didn’t have to resort to either of those.  

I pulled off the interstate and breathed a sigh of relief that not much was happening at this rest stop.  I’d been pushing ninety miles an hour for some time now and I’d left most of the other traffic behind.  There were only a couple of big rigs parked on the side closest to the highway, and one other car near the restrooms.  It was nearing three in the morning and I wasn’t the least bit tired, so when my headlights illuminated the horrific scene in front of me, I knew I hadn’t fallen asleep at the wheel and succumbed to a nightmare.

Two guys were beating an unmoving body on the ground and another was pouring liquid out of a red can onto the body. Before I could think, I laid on the horn and revved my engine.  The rough-looking guys looked up and scattered, piling into a van I hadn’t seen parked out of the light.  The van and the lone car peeled out and sped off down the on ramp.  

I scanned the area and didn’t see anyone else.  We were miles from civilization. I prayed quickly that the body on the ground wasn’t dead as I climbed out of my Mustang and hurried around to the trunk where I grabbed a Mag-lite that was as big around as my arm and my softball bat.  

I remained aware of my surroundings as I cautiously crept over to the man lying on the ground.  I could make out black work boots, black utility pants, a vest covering a plain white t-shirt…
Holy shit!  
This was a cop on the ground!  And there was no police car anywhere. And I’d left my phone in the car. And the smell of gasoline was burning the shit out of my nostrils.

I stepped up next to him and could see he was breathing heavy.  I heard soft moans as I knelt next to him and touched his shoulder.

Kelly

“Don’t touch me,” I snarled.  I thought they’d all left after stealing my car and pulling off my uniform shirt. I sat up quickly and tried to get to my feet, but all I succeeded in doing was staggering around before falling against something, or someone soft.

“OOof! Relax! Dude, you weigh a ton. Stop moving and I’ll help you.”  Her high-pitched voice shocked me into a little bit more of a coherent state. I couldn’t see anything other than the halo of the flashlight she’d dropped. I lunged for it, nearly falling on my ass, and spun around.

“Fuck!  That’s really bright, dude.  I’m not going to hurt you, ok? I’m trying to help you.  Just relax!”

This tiny creature in front of me looked more like a ragdoll than a potential threat.  Torn up stockings stuck up out of black combat boots,  a short black dress draped over her small frame, and she was looking at me like I was the crazy person in this scenario.

“Who are you,” I demanded, then felt something crunch in my mouth.  Was that a tooth?  I spit onto the ground and shone the flashlight on the blood and-yes!  That was a tooth.  ”Son of a beehive,” I spit out.  The girl in front of me laughed.

“I’d be using a helluvalot stronger words if I’d just had the shit kicked out of me.” I put the light back on her and she cringed, covering her face a bit.

“Would you get that thing out of my eyes and let me help you?”

“Why do you have a bat?” I shouted, noticing what she was brandishing.  I felt for my weapon, knowing at the same time I wouldn’t find it.

“Because I’m a chick traveling at night.  Duh.  Now put that down. I’m not going to hurt you, you big lug!”  She dropped her bat and walked toward me.  I stepped back.

“DUDE!  I am not going to fucking hurt you!  The guys who did this just took off, all right? I’m just going to look at your head, ok?  You’re bleeding.”

She stepped cautiously towards me.  I kept the flashlight on her, still not trusting her.  Her tiny hand touched my shoulder as she stepped behind me.  She was so small, I might have mistaken her for a young teenager, but on closer examination, I could see faint lines around her mouth. She had huge brown eyes with dark brows that were furrowed with concern.  Her touch wasn’t light.  She’d obviously been in situations like this before.  I could feel her touching the back of my head and I cried out.

“They hit me with something.  I went to get out of my car and they rushed me.  I got hit in the head, and then I don’t know… Whoa, what is that smell?”

“You almost became your own private Burning Man festival.”

“I, what?” She finished walking around me and tried to take the flashlight from me. I yanked my arm away and she calmly stepped back.

“It’s gasoline.  They were going to-”

“Whoa,” was all I could say.  I pulled the Velcro off my vest, grateful they hadn’t gotten it off of me as it protected me somewhat from their blows, although my thigh and butt were stinging like the knife one of them had connected. My whole body screamed as I pulled my shirt off over my head.  

“I’ve got first aid stuff and a phone in my car.  You need help, dude.  You’re bleeding back here,” she said as she gently pressed the back of my head, “and your pants are ripped—”

“They got in a couple of cuts.”  I looked around the area to see if they’d left anything but it was all gone.  ”Crumb! They got everything.  My belt, my keys, my badge.” Gasoline.  Holy Mother, they were going to burn me alive…

“Come on, Officer.  Let me get you to my car.”  She’d somehow managed to catch my weight and was guiding me over to the passenger side of her car.  I started to panic, but then she was talking and her voice instantly calmed me.

“My name is Abra Moore. I’m not going to hurt you.  Let’s just sit you down and then you can tell me who to call, ok?” Her voice was so sweet.  It allowed me to let some of the tension go, but then I got the shakes so bad she had to support me almost completely.  Somehow she got me to her car, although she barely came up to my shoulder.  She got the door open and helped me maneuver into the low seat, using her other hand to guide my head in so I wouldn’t smack it. Then she leaned across me and grabbed her phone off the console.

“Who should I call, Officer-”

“Graham.  Kelly Graham.  I guess just call 9-1-1.  The CHP will hopefully respond.  Do you know where we are?”  She dialed the phone and shook her head, her dark hair grazing her pale shoulders.

“Yes, my name is Abra Moore and I am here with an officer who has been injured… We’re at a rest stop on Highway 5… I don’t think we are in danger.  I think they left… Yes, I will stay with him… He’s bleeding from the back of his head. He said they hit him… Yes, he is able to move and walk…  Breathing is labored but normal…  Ok…  Thank you…” She hung up the phone and stepped closer.  It was so dark I could only make out her silhouette from the distant bathroom lights.

“Thank God you pulled in,” I said quietly. “I can’t—”

“Yeah.  No, I’m glad, too.  Were you on duty?”

“No.  I left work at ten and hit the road.  I can’t believe—”

“Where are you from,” she said, squatting down in front of me.  She wrapped her arms around her knees and looked up at me, worry creasing her forehead.  The light was hitting her just right so I could get a good look at her face.  She was absolutely gorgeous.  Not my usual type, I guess.  I don’t know that I had one, but she was definitely not a woman that would have caught my eye normally.  Heavily tattooed, small-boned… Her face was angelic, but like a dark angel. I blinked hard a couple of times, starting to wonder if I was...

Want more? How about more Maggie’s Bones!

Fated – A Haunted Novel

September 2012

Sammara Gunderson

Hollywood, Los Angeles

When news first came out that Maggie’s Bones were working on a follow up album to their smash from last year, I begged my editor to let me do a feature on them.  As a reporter for Feedback Magazine, the premier Rock magazine in the U.S., I followed their career since the beginning and loved their music.  Then, when tragedy struck and they lost their manager in a freak accident, I became even more intrigued.  The guys had put on a brave front for a bit, then their lead guitarist, D, disappeared.  The next thing everyone knew, they were all back in New Orleans writing their follow up album, tentatively titled Haunted.  The Rock world was dying for news on what was happening to them.  I was in contact with their manager, Sherry Jordan, and she assured me she would ask the guys to do the interview.  I could barely contain my excitement.  There was something about their music that called to me, and though I knew I needed to remain objective, I couldn’t wait to meet them and experience their magic in person.

That was four months ago.  The next thing I heard was that they were back in L.A. with Scott Cross, an amazing producer who had given several bands their masterpieces.  I figured I’d never get access while they were recording, but I was hoping for a break.  Luckily I ran into Sherry at the Formosa Cafe on a random September afternoon.

“Sammara! How are you, girl?”  We hugged and Sherry invited me to sit with her and the two women she was dining with.  ”Sammara, this is Mackenzie McGowan and Jaylene Charles.  Ladies, this is Sammara Gunderson, reporter extraordinaire from Feedback magazine.”  

I scoffed at her introduction.  ”Extraordinaire?  Please! How do you do,” I said as I slid into the booth next to her.  The restaurant had a cool spot in the back that looked like an old railroad dining car.  I loved the mix of food here and the service was tepid as all of the servers were bored locals. I’d had several meetings here in the past and loved the atmosphere of feigned disinterest.

“Jaylene and Mackenzie snuck out here to visit the guys while mixing is going on and I promised I would show them the town.  What brings you to Hollywood?”  

I tucked some hair behind my ear.  ”I had a meeting with Patricia Gordon about interviewing Blackened.  They are about to head into the studio as well and I was hoping to catch them before that.”  Sherry and her friend all sighed at the prospect.

“Have you met them before?” Mackenzie asked. When I nodded, she exclaimed, “Oh my hell, Danny Black is so friggin’ hot!”  Sherry laughed at Mackenzie and Jaylene rolled her eyes and sipped her soda.  

“I have interviewed them before.  If you can get past his gruff exterior, he’s pretty damn funny.  He’s just kind of a dick when you first meet him,” I said with a laugh. My first piece on Blackened cemented my position as a features writer with the magazine and since then Danny only wanted to deal with me.  I was grateful for that!  

“I was going to call you and see when we could have you meet with the Bones.  They’re ready to talk…  About everything…  I told them you would be the best person to tell their story.”  I dropped my suddenly slimy hands into my lap.  

“Really?  That would be…Thank you, Sherry!  I would love to work with them! When were you thinking?”  

Sherry opened up her calendar on her phone and chuckled.  ”They have tonight free, or Saturday.  I think it would be perfect if you came out to the house they’re staying in.  It’s totally them.”  

I checked my own calendar and frowned.  I was supposed to attend a work function tonight and Saturday I was supposed to see a show at the Whisky.  ”I can do either.  You tell me and I’ll make it work.”  My managing editor would let me out of my commitment tonight for this and I could catch the other band at another venue.  I wasn’t going to miss my chance to interview Maggie’s Bones!  For some reason I couldn’t put my finger on, I knew in my heart I had to do this, that the repercussions of this interview would be massive in my life.  I needed massive repercussions to combat the stagnation I had felt for so long.