The Kylie Ryans Series: Girl with Guitar, Girl on Tour, Girl in Love (extended edition)

by Caisey Quinn

  We have guests, I remind myself.

  “Well just be sure you save enough energy for later,” he says low in my ear. “I still have to show you how much I missed you.”

  I nod, hoping my legs are still steady enough to hold me. His lips brush against mine once more and then he winks before jogging outside to catch Bo and the others on their way to the barn.

  After I’ve splashed some water on my face, I follow them out.

  From behind and at a distance, they look like one big group.

  I can see my son on my husband’s shoulders. Next to them, Pauly has one arm around Claire Ann, and in the other he holds Leah, the little girl they recently adopted from Guatemala. Rae and her boyfriend, whose name I can’t remember because all Trace ever refers to him as is the kid with crappy taste in music, stand beside them. Trace’s mom is slightly at a distance but Bo and Leah are both angling towards her.

  Lily and her dad and brother are chatting with Mia and Steven. Looks like Lily’s brother the soccer star isn’t immune to Mia’s charms. I can practically see Steven tightening his grip on her from here. Bet he’ll be over that “no need to put a ring on it” thing before the night is over. Gretchen is on the other side of them with her handsome doctor man and each of their kids.

  From where I stand, I can see it. Them. The connections. Some are closer than others, but we’re all connected. All a part of something I didn’t fully understand until now. Something I never thought I’d have.

  Walking towards them, I know I’m smiling like a crazed maniac, but I can’t help it. In a way, I’m in love with each and every one of them because they’re a part of our lives. The roles they’ve played in helping us get where we are make me love them even more. I place a hand on my stomach and stop to just look at them for a moment longer.

  My family.

  Panic threatens to send my heart into my throat. Could be the hormones from the pregnancy maybe. But I can’t wrap my mind around it. How did I get so lucky? What could I possibly have done to deserve this?

  I get to live my dream and I have a family to share it with. To laugh with and fight with and eat meals with. To love and miss, dream and cry with, and drive half crazy.

  There was a time when I thought I’d have to choose. One or the other. Dreams or family. And an even darker time when I felt like I had nothing and didn’t dare let myself imagine I’d ever have a life like this.

  But now I have everything I ever wished for. There’s so much to be thankful for that I can hardly breathe.

  Someone else has to be responsible. Someone had to be watching over me for me to be this blessed. For me to have everything I ever wanted, everything I needed, and then some, even after all of the mistakes I made.

  A light misting rain begins to fall and suddenly I know. My moment of panic subsides and all I am is grateful.

  Before I reach my family, I lift my face to the sky and whisper my words of gratitude.

  “Thanks, Daddy.”

  Ending this series was probably one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I literally couldn’t let go of Kylie and Trace until the very last possible second. Being a part of their world has been such an amazing experience. Without the help of so many wonderful and dedicated and supremely talented people, I never could’ve even begun to think about putting these books out into the universe.

  But before I get into my ginormous list of awesome people that I am fortunate enough to know and work with, I have to thank my family. They are the bridge that not only supports me and my dreams, but carries me from the dark recesses of insanity that one must venture into in order to write a book back to reality and then back again many times over. Thank you for allowing me to travel back and forth. For letting me chase my dreams and follow my heart and still have people to share my failures and successes with.

  I giggle a lot when I see comments about Trace, because if you hand my husband a guitar, he’s basically him. I cheer on the readers who yell at him and shake my head at the ones who succumb to his charms, much like I did nearly ten years ago. I’m a lucky girl to have found someone who can drive me so completely crazy that life is never boring while loving me so unconditionally that I have the courage to simply be myself.

  Okay, so moving right along. This is a long list y’all. Brace yourselves.

  As you can see in the dedication, Emily Tippetts was the first person to read Girl with Guitar. Thankfully she didn’t say, Stick to your day job, lady. Instead she said, You have to publish this. Then she proceeded to hold my hand, talk me down from ledges, and give me the courage to publish my books. So, if you enjoyed this series, thank Emily (like I do pretty much every day.)

  If you did not find dozens of typos in this book, it’s due to the diligent work of my editor Mickey Reed and my proofreader Rahab Mugwanja. They are fantastic ladies that I am so lucky to get to work with. If you did find dozens of typos, it’s entirely my fault and due to changes I made after their eyes perfected this beast of a book.

  So many other authors welcomed me into the indie author community with open arms and advice and just by being their wonderfully sweet selves. Big hugs to the aforementioned Emily Tippetts, Abbi Glines, Anna Cruise, Elizabeth Lee, Rachel Harris, Lexi Ryan, Marilyn Brant, Rhonda Helms, Lauren Blakely, Rachel Brookes, Jen McLaughlin, Heidi McLaughlin, Chelsea Cameron, and the many, many others who I am blessed to call colleagues and friends.

  In addition to authors, I could not have survived this process without the love and support and friendship of some AH-MAZING bloggers, reviewers, and readers. I am grateful to each and every one of you who have helped promote my books by beta reading, participating in cover reveals, tours, giveaways, release day blitzes, posting reviews, and all the zillions of other things I’ve asked of you. Gutter Girls Book Reviews, My Secret Romance Book Review blog, Group Therapy Book Club, SMI Book Club, The Autumn Review, Romance Book Addict, Book Addict Mumma, Smitten’s Book Blog, The Indie Bookshelf, Hardcover Therapy, Read This Hear That, Ginger Reads, Reality Bites! Let’s Get Lost!, Holly’s Hot Reads, GloBug and Hootie, Lovin Los Libros, The Blushing Reader, The Geekery Book Review, Seeking Book Boyfriends, Stuck in Books… I could literally go on forever probably. To those of you who took a chance on some chick in Alabama and read Girl with Guitar and then contacted me to say you enjoyed it, I could kiss your faces. If I see you at a signing event, it’s likely that I will. You are the reason that Kylie and Trace’s story continued. So THANK YOU!

  My street team, who share a name with Kylie’s band, is made up of 50 of the coolest chicks I know. I couldn’t even pay them enough for all of the wonderful things they do to support me. And they do it for free! To each and every one of my Backwoods Belles, y’all are my heart. Thank you for always being there and for your endless love and devotion. There aren’t words to express my gratitude. I love you to the moon and back.

  I am fortunate enough to be an InkSlinger client and to get to work with my publicist Jessica Estep who understands that my crazy ideas will come at around two a.m. and will respond to emails night and day.

  Thank you Erin Kelly for the amazing book trailers that you put together from all of my ramblings.

  As most of y’all know, this series recently got a makeover thanks to the lovely and talented Lauren Perry of L. Perry Designs and cover models Teale Murdock (who I swear is actually Kylie Ryans) and Ghent Scott who is not only a smoking hot Trace but a firefighter in real life. Getting to meet and work with all three of them literally made my life complete. Watching my characters come to life is an experience I will never forget and will cherish for as long as I live.

  I am so thankful for the county music community and all of the patient people who answered my questions. You are all rock stars to me and I am forever grateful.

  Thank you to each of you who came to the Read Like A Country Girl event in Nashville. I hope I get to see each of you again at events this year!

  Thank you ladies who orchestrated and participated in the Kylie Ryans Read Along event
on Facebook. You made the weeks leading up to the release of this book much more fun and much less stressful than it normally would’ve been.

  Big smothery hugs to every single person who sent me a “When will Girl in Love be available?” message online. You were my motivation and inspiration to keep going and get this book out into the world.

  And lastly, thank you, yes, you reading this right now, for making it through my blubbering on and on about the people I love. I am thankful for you, thankful that you take the time to read my words and allow my characters into your life.

  If you follow me on Spotify, you can find the soundtrack lists for each of the Kylie Ryans novels. They will also be on my website. I am currently working with my real life inspiration for Steven on getting some of the original songs that appear in the Kylie Ryans novels recorded and hope to make those available to you soon.

  Music is such a huge part of this series, and a huge part of who I am, but I don’t know how to thank music, so instead, I will thank those people who support musicians of all kinds. Parents, teachers, venue owners, producers, managers, interns.

  We all have a song, a story, a book, inside of us. Play it loud. Never let your songs stop playing.

  To anyone I forgot to mention, you are the ones I love the most, and probably take for granted. Please forgive me!

  BOX SET BONUS MATERIAL

  Story of a Girl

  A Kylie Ryans Prequel

  CAISEY QUINN

  “You musn’t be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling.”

  -Inception

  You know that feeling you get, that “off” feeling, where you know, you just know something is wrong. I do. I could feel it. The universe had shifted and it had shifted wrong.

  The knock sounded like gunfire and even though I was exhausted from an eight-hour waitressing shift, adrenaline flooded my entire body.

  “Mrs. Ryans?” The officer said when I opened the front door.

  “Um, Miss.”

  “I’m Mrs. Ryans,” Darla said, shoving past me. She hadn’t bothered to move from the couch when she thought it was Lulu at the door but now that an attractive man in uniform was here she nearly plowed over me.

  “Mrs. Ryans, we’re so sorry—”

  That moment, that one right there, right before he said the words, I felt it. He might has well have punched me, or thrown a wrecking ball into the side of the house.

  “Paramedics on the scene…an accident…pronounced dead…everything they could.”

  My entire body trembled ad the world came in and out of focus. The scene in front of me, Darla collapsing dramatically and wailing into to young officer’s arms while he apologized profusely, blurred before my eyes.

  My dad—my whole world, the man who raised me, who taught me how to play guitar, how to bluff in poker, and encouraged me to chase my dreams and follow my heart—he was gone.

  The world was no longer a safe place in which I belonged. It instantly became strange and foreign. Odd how one sentence could take away so much.

  The officer handed Darla a card once she’d stopped hyperventilating. He said something to me, but I couldn’t hear him. All I could hear in my head was he’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone.

  Because he was gone, and I had absolutely nothing left.

  1

  KYLIE’S REFLECTION looked nothing like her. Gone were the frizzy curls that framed her face and the light constellation of freckles that scattered across the bridge of her nose. In their place was straight blonde hair as smooth as glass and a creamy complexion that appeared to have spent a week at the beach. She only had a few minutes to wonder who this girl in the mirror was; it was almost time to go on.

  “Three minutes Ms. Ryans,” someone called out from behind her. Her heart thudded against her rib cage, sending a wave of blood rushing into her ears. You can do this. These are your songs. This is everything you’ve ever dreamed of.

  “Lu?” Kylie squirmed in her chair looking for her assistant. “Lulu, I need some water please, like now.”

  When a full minute passed and her assistant didn’t come, her breath came in short gasps as she fell down the familiar spiral of a full blown panic attack. Her mouth was so dry it was impossible to swallow. Or speak.

  Oh Heaven help. The words. She’d forgotten them. Half a million people waited to hear her sing because they’d spent their hard earned money to buy tickets and she couldn’t remember a single word to a single song—couldn’t even recall any of the titles. Her chest heaved in and out as she fought back the onslaught of tears.

  She searched the stranger’s face for answers but the girl in the mirror just stared back at her with icy blue eyes made wide with panic.

  Tell me the words, whoever you are, please, please help me.

  “Kylie! Kylie come on, it’s time.”

  2

  “WAKE UP, Kylie. If you want a ride to the school, you need to get the hell up right now.”

  “Darla?” Kylie murmured, stirring from a dream, or maybe a nightmare she wasn’t sure.

  Something thwacked across Kylie’s face. A pillow, thrown hard.

  “I’m not taking the blame for you missing your high school graduation, you ungrateful brat. God knows you blame me for enough as it is,” her stepmother hollered from the doorway.

  “I’m up, I’m up,” Kylie mumbled, stumbling out of bed and past her into the bathroom. She only vaguely remembered turning off her cell phone alarm this morning. Since she and Darla shared the 88’ Chevy pickup that had been her dad’s, Darla had to drop Kylie off on her way to work. Since Darla hated Kylie almost of much as Kylie despised her step-mother, it wasn’t exactly a joyride. She would’ve asked someone for a ride, anyone else really, but Lulu was the only friend she had that lived on her side of town and she already had a full load with her cousin Carmen and her twin brothers. She mentally cursed herself for not getting up when the alarm went off.

  Kylie splashed cold water on her face and glanced into the mirror. For a split second she expected to see a tan, straight-haired stepford version of herself from her dream. But alas, same frizzy semi-curly hair, same pale skin, and too-wide eyes. And a nice-sized zit forming on her chin—one that her best friend LuLu would eventually christen Mt. Something or other.

  Fanfreakingtastic day this was going to be.

  Happy Graduation day to me.

  AFTER THE ride to the high school with Satan’s mistress, Kylie found Lulu near the locker bay on the senior end of the hall where everyone was lining up to rehearse the graduation walk.

  Lulu’s name was Olivia but her younger brothers couldn’t pronounce it when they were little and Lulu had stuck. Today her hair was an alarming new shade of Crayola red. Kylie complimented her latest dye job and then launched right into telling her about the nightmare.

  “It was awful, Lu, I couldn’t remember a single word. Every time I opened my mouth my mind went completely blank.”

  “Speaking of blank minds, how is the evil step-monster?” Lulu asked as she pulled a thick textbook from her locker.

  “Slutty and vacant as usual, she picked up some shifts at the Hooter’s in Owasso and I swear, it’s like she thinks she made a serious career move.” Kylie rolled her eyes as she propped against the lockers.

  “So she’s not coming to watch you walk tonight? Not even to your high school graduation?”

  Kylie snorted. “Why would she?”

  If there was one thing Darla had never done, it was pretend to have motherly instincts of any kind.

  Her dad had only been dead six months and Darla had wasted no time parading guys in and out of her bedroom. The latest one wasn’t so bad, decent-looking for an older guy. Jake Something or other, but Kylie had seen him around town before and she was pretty sure he had a wife and a kid. Not that Darla cared. She probably just saw them as leverage.

  “You can always come live in the trailer park with me, super classy company there,” Lulu offered, interrupting Kylie’s thoughts.

  She kne
w her friend only joked about the trailer park because she was embarrassed. Up until last summer, Lulu had lived on the nicer side of Pride. Then her dad accepted a job in L.A., which apparently included a new wife. Honestly, she probably would’ve seriously considered her best friend’s offer if it wasn’t for the twins. Not that the six-year-old boys weren’t completely adorable, they totally were, but living with the rambunctious pair in a doublewide sounded less than appealing.

  “Seriously, has your mom not ever heard of alimony or child support?” Kylie asked.

  Lulu just shook her head. “She said she’d rather be lit on fire and paraded naked through town than take a single penny from him.”

  “Alrighty then.” Her mom did always did have a flair for the dramatic. Too much pride in Pride. Kylie added that phrase to her catalogue of mental song lyrics. “Well, Darla would have taken his ass for all he was worth. He’d be the one living in a trailer, hell, she’d probably take that too.”

  “What did your dad ever see in her anyways?” Lulu asked as they turned the corner heading into homeroom.

  “I don’t think he really saw anything in her exactly,” Kylie began, “it was more like I was about to be a teenager and he had no clue how to talk to me about woman stuff so, ta-da, let’s marry a former beauty queen and all will be well.” She mimicked waving a magic wand as she finished.

  “Ugh, men are so stupid.” The words were barely out of Lulu’s mouth before her face flushed bright enough to match her new hair. “Oh God, Kylie. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that your dad was stupid. I just meant—” The redhead clamped a hand over her mouth, and just shook her head as her green eyes filled with an even mixture of panic and horror.

  Kylie waved her hand between them. “I know what you meant, Lu. No worries.”

  Mrs. Devereaux gestured for everyone to quiet down so they could make sure the students were in the correct place in line. After her name was called, Kylie zoned out, trying to mentally wrangle the lyrics that had been running through her head earlier.