“I’m quitting Feral Silence.”
Want a sneak peek of Kell’s story? Continue reading with the first two chapters of Hard Rock Voice >>>
Want to know the history behind Feral Silence? Feral Dream is an EXCLUSIVE side story prequel for fans who sign up for my mailing list. You’ll also receive updates on new releases, giveaways and freebies.
Find out how Feral Silence came to be:
Get It Now
Hard Rock Voice Excerpt 1
The lone man sat in a small recording booth, perched on a backless stool. He used the toe of his shoe to push off against the floor, twisting his body in a restless, repetitive motion. An oversized pair of headphones covered his ears and curly blond bangs fell over his forehead. A large circular microphone stood a foot away from his mouth. His t-shirt had a one-eyed, sharp toothed, cartoon monster printed on the front. A speech bubble came out of the monster’s mouth. It said "I live under your bed.”
The man wasn’t singing yet, simply examining a piece of paper in his hand. His eyes scanned over the words, reading over the lyrics one more time.
He knew the lyrics off by heart. He’d agonized over them for weeks. Some lyrics he dashed off in a flurry on scraps of paper—sometimes those were his greatest works. Other lyrics took longer. They needed to be coaxed and massaged, one word at a time.
This was one of those songs. It was going to be the last song on his album. It was important to him. Special. It told a sort of story, in a roundabout way, something he hadn’t shared with anyone else. Only a few people in the world knew.
Kell often wrote secrets into his lyrics, hidden messages for fans that cared enough to decipher them. It was like a game to him.
When he thought about his fans listening to this song and reading the lyrics, a thrill ran thorough his body. Although they would study and scrutinize and obsess over the meaning of the song, not one of them would know the secret inside the words.
And if anyone did figure it out, well…
“You ready to go again, Kell?” the sound technician asked from behind the other side of the glass. His hands were already on the sound system in front of him, fingers poised over the sliding buttons. He’d been there for hours already, but not a hint of impatience colored his tone. He knew this song was special, too, although he didn’t know why. The artist wanted it to be perfect, so they would work on it until it was.
“Yeah, I got this.”
Kell put down the paper and cleared his throat, stepping up to the microphone. He breathed in and out a few times, expanding and contracting his lungs, preparing them. He nodded once to the sound tech.
Music started up, a single guitar chord lightly strumming a melody. The intro was a quiet, subdued affair. No blaring noise, nothing ostentatious.
After a few bars, Kell sang the first lines in a quiet, breathy voice. It was smooth and liquid, the words rolling off his tongue. As he sang, the music slowly rose in pitch, the strumming guitar increasing in speed and intensity. Kell’s voice got louder, rougher. He sang the words from deep inside his chest, a bevy of expressions crossing his face. Delight, rage, despair. His voice radiated every emotion, holding nothing back.
The music reached a crescendo, changing key, the instrumentals crashing down in a violent combination of guitar, keyboard and violin. Kell held a single note for a long moment. It was a sensual purr, enticing the audience to close their eyes and lean in, to feel the sound wash over them like a cresting wave. The single note held an unspoken promise, reverberating in the chests of every listener.
The music halted and Kell cut himself off abruptly, then came the soft, slow strumming of the guitar, matching the melody of the first few bars. Kell whispered one final line, a carnal hiss, before falling silent.
There was a brief moment of quiet before clapping rang through the sound booth.
“Awesome, Kell. I think that’s the one.”
“Yeah?” Kell grinned and wiped a trickle of sweat from his forehead with the hem of his shirt, lifting it to reveal a slim, toned stomach. “Good, ’cause it’s hot as fuck in here. Can’t we afford air conditioning?”
The sound guy chuckled. “Take a break, then we’ll start on the next one.”
Kell nodded and snatched a bottle of water from a side table. He tilted his head back and chugged it in one long gulp, the muscles in his throat rippling with the motion. He finished the last few drops and crushed the bottle into a thin disk, tossing it toward the small recycling bin tucked away in the corner. The plastic hit the wall and bounced into the bin.
When he left the soundproof booth, he had a piece of paper with lyrics in his hand. He examined the words closely before crumpling it up into a ball and throwing it in a wastebasket. It sailed in smoothly. He grinned—two for two. He continued down the hallway stretching as he walked, craning his neck and working his jaw.
He didn’t see the short, stocky man peep around the corner. He didn’t see him rummage through the wastebasket and pull out the crumpled lyrics. The man lifted the heavy camera hanging around his neck and snapped a few covert pictures of the singer as he strolled through the revolving doors leading outside.
The man with the camera smoothed out the paper against his chest. His eyes roved over the lyrics with an intense hunger before he fist pumped the air quietly. He jammed the paper in his shoulder bag and snuck into the recording booth, snapping picture after picture.
The sound of footsteps made him dart back out and scurry around the corner, taking off with his prize.
Kell returned, sauntering back down the corridor with an easy pace. He passed the wastebasket on his way back and took a quick glance inside, grinning to himself and shaking his head.
He slipped back inside the booth and sat back on the stool, starting up his restless swivel. He pulled a piece of folded up paper from his back pocket and opened it, scanning the familiar words he’d just sung. Satisfied, he folded it back up and shoved it back into his jeans.
Sometimes it was too easy.
Hard Rock Voice Excerpt 2
I skimmed over my notes one last time. I’d written out an itinerary for the day. It wasn’t too detailed. A rough sketch. A vague outline.
Alright, fine, I’d made a minute-by-minute schedule, so sue me. I had a limited time to get the information I needed, so I was as prepared as I could possibly be. There was only one small problem.
Dylan, where the hell are you? I typed furiously and hit send. I couldn’t do this without my videographer. Written notes were fine if all I was trying to produce was a series of magazine articles, but it wasn’t enough these days. Most people didn’t have the patience to read several thousand words, as in-depth and entertaining as they may be. Everything was video now. The hottest new social network, CHATTR, had given users the ability to upload short videos. Micro-vlogging was all the rage.
And there was no one I’d rather catch on camera then Kell, the boisterous, narcissistic, unruly lead singer of Feral Silence.
Ex-lead singer, I reminded myself. He’d left the band to go solo. No one except the other band members knew why. Was there a falling out? Creative differences? Whatever it was, they weren’t talking. All the music industry had to go on was speculation.
Feral Silence had hit it big. An online indie magazine like mine should never have gotten the access I was getting. I was lucky I had a friend on the inside. Feral Silence’s music label wanted someone to follow Kell around and document his journey from front man to solo artist.
That person was me.
And my best friend Dylan, if he ever showed up.
I checked my phone to see if I’d received any messages from him, but there was nothing. My irritation was starting to shift into worry. Was he okay? He never flaked out like this. He was as dedicated to the magazine as I was. We were co-founders after all, and we were getting the chance of a lifetime by snagging an exclusive with one of the hottest artists in the industry. This had the potential to catapult us into the big leagues.
If
only Dylan would show up on time.
As if my thoughts had summoned him, Dylan came running down the sidewalk. With his tall frame and barrel chest, pedestrians all parted to make way. He waved frantically until he stopped in front of me, panting heavily.
“Sorry,” he gasped. “Phone died. Couldn’t text.” He had doubled over and planted his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. I glanced at the time. We still had a few minutes before we were due to meet with Kell. It felt weird calling him by his first name, but that was a rock star for you. Single names were in.
“I’ll forgive you this time. Did you at least get my itinerary?”
“Yeah,” he panted between breaths. “Thorough.”
“It’s just a guideline.”
He snorted through his nose but didn’t say anything.
The both of us stood side by side and looked up at the Dark Sound Studios building, a tall high-rise in the middle of downtown. The rent for their offices must have been exorbitant. I supposed it made sense. Dark Sound had started out as a small indie label, but their group of artists had seen major success in the last few years, not even counting Feral Silence.
I tilted my head up and up until my eyes reached the top floor, towering over the rest of the building surrounding it. I never imagined I’d be working with such a successful company. Not so soon, at least. I thought I’d have to fight my way up the industry. The magnitude of this chance was overwhelming. My heart threatened to burst in my chest, my body buzzing with a combination of excitement and nerves—I couldn’t screw this up.
I turned to Dylan, wanting to catch his reaction. He was staring up at the building, too, but it wasn’t intimidation in his eyes. He was calm with a slight smile on his face. Nothing fazed Dylan. He was unflappable, whereas I often got called overzealous. We made a good pair.
The two of us had both worked on the school newspaper in high school and, despite our opposite temperaments, we’d become fast friends. We attended the same college and kept our friendship strong through the stress of studying, exams and essays.
Maybe a little too strong. Sometimes, during lonely nights, I would carefully open the lid on the mental box I’d locked up tight, letting myself dream of tanned skin, broad shoulders and muscled arms.
I violently slammed the lid on those thoughts, shoving them away. Dylan and I were friends, nothing more. I didn’t want more, anyway. Combining professional and personal lives lead to trouble, and we had become business partners as well as best friends.
“You ready?” I asked, returning my thoughts to the present.
Dylan’s auburn hair was messy from running. Without thinking, I reached up and attempted to comb through the tangles with my fingers. With me on my tiptoes, his square, stubbled jaw was eye level. Light pink lips, soft yet firm at the same time. My hands stilled in his hair.
“Emily?”
I pulled away with a jerk.
“You’re a mess,” I told him. He ran a hand through his hair, ruining all my work. It was fine. The rolled-out-of-bed look was sexy as hell.
I mentally slapped myself and checked the time again.
“Let’s go.”
Continue the Feral Silence story with…
Hard Rock Voice, featuring lead singer Kell
Hard Rock Touch, featuring bassist Ren
Hard Rock Heart, featuring drummer Morris
Want to know the history behind Feral Silence? Feral Dream is an EXCLUSIVE side story prequel for fans who sign up for my mailing list. You’ll also receive updates on new releases, giveaways and freebies.
Find out how Feral Silence came to be:
Get It Now
Coming Soon
Darkest Days #2: Hard Rock Sin
Featuring bassist of Darkest Days Cameron Thorne and Noah Hart's baby sister Lily, Hard Rock Sin is the second novel in the Darkest Days Rock Star Romance Series.
Sign up for my newsletter and be the first to know when new books are available. You’ll also receive bonus scenes, side stories, freebies and more.
>>> Sign Up Now >>>
Visit my website for more stories: www.athenawright.com
About the Author
Athena Wright is an author of New Adult Romance. She has a fondness for rock stars and the fangirls they fall in love with. Athena loves to write characters who are not always what they seem.
Find Athena online:
@athenawrights
authorathenawright
www.athenawright.com
[email protected]
Hard Rock Tease: A Rock Star Romance (Darkest Days Book 1) Page 36
