Big on Education

by Laurie Ames

  JD winked at Collin, while standing behind Miranda’s back. “Ya right, go on, tell her all about it Collin.”

  “Well, seeing how it’s our last concert of the tour and we’re playing to the home crowd, we were going to do some band introductions and you wanted to include Miranda…is that a go?

  “Oh, how sweet you guys! Yes, I think I would appreciate that,” Said Miranda with a touch of suspicion in her voice.

  Chapter 14

  The fans were sitting in eager anticipation. There was a huge crescendo of noise as the lights dimmed. An announcement blasted out from the back of the stage.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the last concert of their world famous “Phoenix Rising” tour. I present to you, the kings of rock - Hellvation!

  Everyone stood up and crazed fans started yelling at the top of their lungs as the band was being slowly hoisted up by an elevation platform. Then began the thunderous boom of the deep bass. Next began the haunting melody of the guitars, the wonderful voice of JD and the sweat of the performers as they unveiled the beginning of the concert. The enthusiasm and dedication seeped through JD’s microphone as the strumming guitars, beating drums and pounding bass reverberated through the walls of the large venue. The entire audience instantly transformed into one gigantic person, as everyone jumped up and down, singing the lyrics simultaneously. The concrete floor beneath the thousands of people seemed to sway with the beat of each song.

  The band then went on to play a brilliant set of old and new. The energy was contagious. You could literally feel and hear the high voltage zinging through the people. Throughout the whole night, the band kept the fans thrilled with the high energy show.

  Before the last song was to play, the band suddenly stopped playing. That was to be the cue for Miranda to walk on stage for band member introductions. Miranda waved at the crowd before walking out, she was wearing a racy leather skirt and six-inch heels. Her hips swayed smoothly from side to side with a confident strut that told the world, I’m simply hot. Once JD welcomed her by his side, the stage went eerily dark. Then a bright spotlight snapped on, illuminating just the two of them. The audience was dead silent, as they held up thousands of lighters and candles in the total darkness. The crowd’s attention was glued to the stage, as if nothing else mattered in the world.

  Miranda was perplexed. She gave JD a look as if to say, ‘WTF is happening? This isn’t in the script?’

  JD reached out to take her hand. Miranda started to shake nervously, not knowing what’s going on. JD nonchalantly held up the microphone and paused for a short moment to look straight at Miranda, then started to speak.

  “Miranda, I have something important I want to say to you. It’s something I’ve wanted to say for a very long time.” JD was cool as a cucumber. He then dropped down to one knee. Once on his knee, he looked up to her. He was holding a ring in his hand.

  Miranda's eyes widened and her mouth gaped as JD started to speak, "Miranda, I love you. You're the only woman I want to share the rest of my life with.” He paused again for several seconds, to try let her take it all in. “Miranda, will you marry me?"

  Miranda's heart was hammering in her chest. She was totally stunned as those words resonated in her head. She looked out into the sea of people then back at JD.

  "Yes JD, of course I accept. I love you too."

  JD took a step forward and wrapped his arms around Miranda. He then proceeded to give her a very long deep kiss. As they kissed, the drummer started tapping away on the cymbals producing a steady shimmering sound. The audience exploded in wild cheers.

  JD was appreciative. “And I love all of you too!” He screamed at the crowd.

  The spotlight slowly faded out and the dark stadium suddenly came alive again, exploding with flashing lights. A loud bass drum started up, and the feeling of the percussion could be felt pounding within the crowd's chests. Next the guitars merged in, creating a high energy rhythm that shook the stage. JD danced momentarily with his trademark swagger, as he pretended to play the “air guitar.” He then held up the microphone and began to sing. He was singing “Miranda’s Song.” He placed an arm around her waist, and continued singing the melodic song written just for her. When it came to the song’s chorus, everyone in the audience sang the chorus back to the band. Miranda was overcome with joy and elation. Her eyes were wet with tears as her and JD melted into this magical moment.

  By the time the song ended, there was a 20-minute standing ovation. The band came back on stage to do one last song and the fans went berserk. The night was one to be remembered. JD’s career had definitely made a come back, bigger than ever, forever cemented as one of the most momentous rock concerts in years.

  Chapter 15

  “Ouch,” said JD as he rubbed the stinging pain from his chin.

  She had slapped JD on the face, not hard, but just enough to draw his attention. The cab driver leered into the rear-view mirror, shaking his head, before looking ahead again.

  “You know what?” Said Miranda with a teasing smile. “I should be furious with you for surprising me at the concert.”

  “Yes, you should be, but you’re not, are you?” Replied JD.

  “No, how could I ever be mad at you, especially when I will soon have a handle like Mrs. Miranda Dunford.”

  “Well, Miranda Dunford, do I get to check out the merchandise before we’re married?”

  “Yes, as soon as we get to my place, I want you to really please me. But remember, I’m still the boss.”

  “Yes dear, tonight you are the boss.” Said JD as he smirked, not really meaning it.

  “Mr. Cab Driver, can you please step on the gas. We’re in a hurry!”

  ~ The End ~

  Cray

  Rock Hard Romance

  By: Michelle Hart

  Prologue

  Cray, a jet setting wealthy Rock Superstar and lead singer for “King of the Damned” wants to immortalize his life in a biography.

  Iddy, a professional writer has been hired by Cray as his personal biographer. That’s when she meets Cray for the first time on his personal jet.

  ‘WTF! A billionaire rock star likes me and is glad I will be spending a lot of time with him? And I’m already having sexual thoughts of him? Oh yeah. I was in significant trouble.’

  Strong Warning: Hot Romance. Adult naughty language and explicit sex scenes for ages 18+ only.

  Foreword

  He entered the room and was greeted by cheers and friendly slaps on the back. He glanced at us and sauntered over to where we were standing. My brother had been working as his personal assistant and I was the newbie as his personal biographer.

  "Why don’t you come and watch from backstage," he asked.

  I turned my focus to the eyes shaded under the cap and stopped breathing. “Umm, ya sure! Show us the way.”

  We followed him to the backstage area. A harried roadie rushed past with a microphone stand. The rock star placed his palms on my arm and maneuvered me out of harm's way. His warm touch left my skin sizzling. Immediately my nipples tingled with arousal.

  The lights on the stage went out. The females in the audience burst out screaming as the band members filed past and took their positions.

  "Aren’t you nervous?" I asked him. I was nervous and I wasn't the one scheduled to perform for thousands of screaming fans.

  He grinned as if the thought of being nervous was just plain silly. "No Iddy, I'm not nervous. It's just another day at the office."

  I loved it when Cray called me Iddy. I looked at him and was struck again by his striking good looks, flamboyance and self-confidence. I ’d seen him tranquil, irate, dangerous, mischievous. But I’ve never seen him like this…so full of zeal. The air was crackling with his rock star energy.

  Before going on stage, he winked at me and grinned. "I'll be back."

  I smiled, then sighed as I watched him gravitate onto the stage. A spotlight illuminated his every move as he picked up a microphone and waved at the 80,000
screaming fans.

  “Are you okay?” My ever-concerned brother asked me.

  “Yes, for sure.” But I was lying, I was really not okay. Because I was falling in love with a mega Rock Star.

  Chapter 1: Private Jet

  Police cars were being used to section off a few blocks around the sleek, ultramodern building where a huge crowd had gathered. Through the crowd, a very long, blood-red limousine snaked its way toward the building. Rows of frenzy-filled fans dressed in various gothic styles – Victorian, cyber, punk, Lolita – chanted his name...

  “Cray! Cray! Cray!”

  Black-lipped, black eye-lined girls pressed their breasts and necks up against the limousine. The more daring ones flung themselves on the hood. Groupies screamed with rabid excitement.

  The chanting reached frenzied pitch as the limo’s door slowly opened to reveal Cray. He gracefully climbed out of the limo and surveyed the chaos that was in his honor.

  I watched in morbid, surreal fascination as my brother got out next and hustled Cray through the crowd.

  Paparazzi could be seen lurking in the background, trying to take unsuspecting pictures. They knew to keep their distance due to Cray’s aggressive demeanor towards them. They knew better than to dare get within his arms reach.

  The announcer of Cray's reality TV show informed the viewers that they should tune in next week to watch more of their beloved rock star. I switched off the TV and turned back to the open book before me.

  The most important thing that biographers should do is write from the heart. Biographers should write about people that they care deeply about, whether negatively or positively. If they take on biographies about people they could care less about, maybe just for the money or because they were given a good contract, then the readers will not care about the person either.

  I sighed dejectedly. I had bought the "how to write someone's biography" book with the hope that it would help me brain-storm on how to proceed with the monumental mistake, I mean task before me. How was I supposed to write from the heart about someone that I did not know existed until just a few days ago? And as for writing about people that I negatively or positively care about, well, I still did not know much about him. – But fortunately, I could say he was smoking hot!

  The one episode I watched of his reality show had left me gaping in horror and confusion. How can one man have such power over thousands of teenage girls and full-grown women? Granted, the said man was definitely good-looking – especially if you are into the tall, dark, tattooed, shirtless type. But there were many good-looking superstars that did not cause grown women to display their breasts or fanatically throw themselves on the man’s limousine hood.

  It was Beatle mania in black. Black outfits, black makeup, dyed-black hair.

  I sighed again. It was like the author of a how-to book was glimpsing into my head. I had taken this project for the wrong reason. It was not for the money, although the pay was very good. What - I mean - if I completed this project, I wouldn't have to worry about money for the rest of the year, meaning that I would have 12 worry-free months to concentrate on writing my first novel. I did not take this job because of the contract, although the terms and conditions were excellent. There would be lots of traveling around the world with someone else picking up the tab. I took this job simply because I had lost a bet.

  I love my brother but he can be too considerate sometimes. Apparently, he was concerned because I had not left my small apartment ever since my ex-boyfriend ‘Carlton’ humiliated me by breaking up on social media;

  ‘Edith, it's not easy to tell you this, but I recently began spending some time with another woman. You don't know her, but over the course of the last few months, I've realized she and I have a connection that I can’t pretend doesn't exist. I can no longer accept being second-best behind your career. I know you will find someone who will treat you right. I hope you can forgive me. My leaving you is the best for everyone involved.’ Sincerely Carlton

  What the fuck - was my first and last reaction! I think, considering the circumstances, my behavior was very normal. One ought to be allowed to withdraw and lick one's wounds in peace and isolation!

  The cab came to a stop. I looked up and saw that we had arrived at the airport. Working my lower lip with my teeth, a nervous habit that I had not managed to get rid of, I debated the wisdom of just making a mad dash back into my safe little apartment. But I knew it would be futile and would only serve to make my brother even more concerned and overprotective.

  I briefly closed my eyes, hoping that I would not regret what I was getting myself into.

  ***

  “Come closer. I do not bite. Much.”

  His trademark purple eyes twinkled with mischief. His slender hand, with long graceful, gothic-ringed fingers sporting nails painted black, patted the seat next to him, causing his silver bracelets to tinkle enticingly, inviting me to sit down beside him.

  I hesitated. I didn’t dare accept his invitation. Because the lead singer of the vampire rock band “King of the Damned” looked way too dangerous even though he was just reclining on a pile of purple velvet and satin cushions. He made me feel like an awkward teenager even though I was pushing thirty-six and was standing with him strategically placed well below my eye level.

  “No thanks. I’m fine right here,” I managed to say. My voice was barely a whisper. I knew I was being ridiculous, standing like a foot soldier over him but this whole situation was ridiculous. What was I doing here, in this private jet, with this wealthy and world-famous rock star?

  I looked around again, as though to make sure that I was indeed in a very expensive private jet. The interior was like nothing I had seen before. Thick, red shag carpet covered the floor. On one side of the plane was a wet bar of some sort. On the right, two enormous black leather chairs and a couch sat across from a table. A large flat-screen TV was set into the wall. The entire back of the plane was closed off, presumably a private bedroom with a door barring it. I couldn’t help but gawk at the interior. I clutched my bag close to my person, feeling out of sorts, like a fish out of water, or like a very small fish in a very big pond.

  I looked at the rock star, from his long, thick, jet black curly hair to his body piercings – ears, nose, lower lip, eyebrow - to his various tattoos – a dragon, an eagle, a tiger, geometric patterns, gothic swirls and spirals that disappeared into his lower navel…he was strikingly handsome.

  And he was looking me over too, his purple eyes not missing anything as they undressed me – from my straight shoulder length hair and brown eyes, to my slightly fit figure, clad in designer jeans and a t-shirt. I knew I had an attractive body but not the slim lithe model type that walks down a catwalk. To him I was probably more the ‘girl next door’ type. The kind of girl you’re supposed to look at but not touch.

  When he had his fill of scrutinizing me, he made eye contact. And my heart lurched in my chest again.

  “You look so much like your brother, only prettier.”

  “Fraternal twins.” Was all I could manage to say.

  “So what can I do to you?

  “Ex-excuse me?”

  “For you,” he amended, a wicked gleam in his beautiful purple eyes. “What can I do for you?”

  “My brother says you need a writer. I’m a writer.”

  “You don’t look like a writer.”

  “You don’t look like a Harvard graduate.”

  “Touché, Edith.” He smiled and my stomach lurched again. “I’m impressed. You have done your research.”

  “The information wasn’t exactly easy to come by.”

  “Well, we don’t exactly want that kind of volatile information to leak out.”

  I momentarily forgot my feelings of being out of place, suddenly fascinated by this unique human being. “Why not? What’s wrong with being a Harvard graduate?”

  “Not good for the rock image.” He said with a polished British accent.

  “Ah. Bad boys don’t go to college.”<
br />
  “Indeed.”

  “What did you study in college?”

  “Economics.”

  I gazed in astonishment. He smiled.

  “If I were the sensitive type, I would be insulted by your surprise. You have judged the book by the cover.”

  And what a beautiful cover he was. An sexually errant thought flitted through my mind before I could stop it. No, I was not going to go there. Especially not with yet another flighty musician. My ex was an up and coming musician and he threw me away as though I was last week’s trash. How much more could this billionaire rock star hurt me? Plenty more!

  Besides, we were like oil and water. There was no way a celebrity like him would be attracted to someone like me. Was there? No! It was time to lay down the rules and set up some boundaries. I took a deep breath, swallowed then spat out the reason why I’m in this alien situation.

  “Truthfully, I’m only here because I lost a bet to my brother. I always keep my word so I will write your biography. That’s all I’m here to do. But I will do an incredible job just the same.”

  One eyebrow went up, almost touching the jet-black curls that tumbled above it. “Did I give you the impression that you were required to do anything else other than write my biography?”

  Now I felt like an ass. “Oh no! Not at all!” I quickly clarified lest I offend him. “You have been a total gentleman.”

  “A total gentleman? Do you mean me?” he quietly murmured, trying not to smile but failing miserably.

  “Yes,” I affirmed with a quick nod.

  There was a moment of silence that seemed like eons to me. I could almost hear the wheels in his gorgeous head turning. I was sure he could hear my heart beating frantically.

  Finally, he spoke. “I bet you would really like me when I’m not being a gentleman.”