Monday, October 23, 2023

Musical Monday: Just four more days left until Damaged Saints Premiers



This weekend flew past. I swear I barely blinked and it was gone. What it does do is put us one day closer to the release of Damaged Saints, and wow, what a ride this book was for me. Let me give you a little backstory, in case you haven't been keeping up with the saga of Damaged Saints. 

When Rocktoberfest was announced for this year, I went into it with an immediate plan. I was going to write Damien and Kane's story. Damien, the drummer from Tattered Angel, is the only member of the band without a partner. Kane, from Bleeding Dawn, had gotten a bit overeager to spend time with him when the bands were on the road, leading to Damien dubbing him a 'bad puppy' and telling him that he needed to be good if he wanted any attention. 

Apparently, that tripped a major trigger with Kane, which meant that the new novel kicked off with a bang. The only problem was that at about 20k their voices got drowned out by another pair of rocker boys and man, did they have a story to tell, but first, here's a snippet from the original 20k of what will become a rocker boys story somewhere down the line, though perhaps it might make it out before next Rocktoberfest. 

                                            ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

His phone tweeted, announcing the presence of a text. Sure enough, he opened it to see a photo of Dez and Riley looking suntanned and happy, rolling waves and a brilliant blue ocean behind them. He still found it difficult to believe they were actually making it work. Between Riley’s habit of self-sabotaging relationships by being overly jealous, possessive and suspicious of everything his partner did, and Dez being, well, oblivious at times and tight-lipped at others, they’d had some hurtles to overcome.

Learning how to communicate with one another helped eliminate a good deal of them, and improve their ability to convey things to the other members of the band as well. It had made them a stronger unit on stage too, and those final performances before they’d finished their tour had been some of the most amazing moment of Damien’s life.

Which only added to the crash like feel of days like this one, when nothing had gone the way he wanted it to and he was sitting there alone.

He missed the chaos of multiple voices speaking all at once, ideas scrawled on scrap pieces of paper, the colorful flags stuck everywhere from the windows to the back of someone’s pants after they’d accidentally sat on one. There was an ebb and flow to touring that filled the nights with a magical hum of energy and emotion, and the days with creativity and the exhilaration of ideas clashing, swirling and melding together. Down time meant silences that even songs on the smart speaker couldn’t fill.

It didn’t help that there were a dozen different ideas ping-ponging around in his head, all jockeying for his attention with such intensity that it was difficult to narrow his focus down on just one. He needed a way of dialing back his thoughts and cooling off his temper if he was going to have any hope of accomplishing something.

Ice cream carton empty, he pitched it in the trash, then rolled a couple pre-shower blunts before heading to clean up. Even a cool shower didn’t relax him. If anything it left him shivering and restless by the time he stepped naked into his bedroom to light one of the blunts he’d left on the rolling tray. The spicy scent of shower gel clung to his skin, and he made a note in his phone to order some more since he was running out. Not smelling like ass anymore was an improvement, and as he lit the first blunt and let the smoke curl into his lungs, he felt some of the tension in his neck and shoulders finally easing.

Maybe what he needed was to relax and veg out for a little while, pull up a movie on the streaming service app, and stop thinking about all the things that weren’t going the way he wanted them to.

What was it going to be tonight?

His typical fare ranged from psychological thrillers and slow-paced dramas to murder mysteries with complicated twists. Of course, on the road he tended to watch whatever the majority chose, which meant three-headed sharks, animated adventures, and films where everything went boom. A small smile creased his face when he thought back to that final night alone in a motel room with Kane. He’d been skeptical when Kane had claimed the remote and promised that Damien would enjoy what he had planned. Reluctantly he’d acquiesced and sat back against the headboard, waiting to see what Kane had in store for him, and much to his surprise, he hadn’t been disappointed. In honor of that, he decided to choose something along those same lines, hoping it would be at least half as good as ???

Chirping bird song echoed from his phone again, signaling another text. Maybe it was a dick thing to do, but he ignored it, not in the mood to see whichever smiling couple had decided to grace him with a record of their adventures.

Tomorrow he’d look, maybe even text back and ask what they were up to, though he was sure it was more snorkeling, swimming, unearthing rocks, ziplining, and whatever the hell else caught there fancy during their travels.

Okay. His bitterness was beginning to show and it wasn’t a good look on him. He knew that but since he was still sprawled naked and alone with only his blunts for company, there was no one to point out how shitty it was that he was jealous of his friends. Tomorrow, after a long night of mellowing out, he’d maybe even enjoy what it was they had to share with him, but right now he couldn’t find it in himself to give a shit.

On the screen, (share what is unfolding) So far it showed promise, so he inhaled another lungful of smoke and settled in to enjoy it.

Slowly, over the course of the next hour, his phone went off three more times, until finally, he shoved it beneath a couple pillows in an effort to ignore it.

He should have just turned it off.

Twice more it notified him of a message, the second time coming right in the middle of a climatic scene. Groaning, he retrieved the phone, unlocked it and started to turn off the notifications, when it pinged again, he caught sight of a familiar name at the top of the screen.

Bad Puppy.

In an instant he went from annoyed to curious, pressing on the message to see that all the times his phone had dinged had been from Kane. As he scrolled through them, he got the sense that Kane’s mood wasn’t any better than his at the moment.

Hey, you busy?

Guess you must be. Hit me back when you have a chance.

Tried that cheese steak place you told me about. How the hell did I never know about it, it and I’ve lived here all my life. Holy shit were they could. Finished off with a slick of cookies and cream cheesecake and I think its spoiled ever other flavor for me.

You been working on new music? I keep trying but the interruptions are almost non-stop these days. I really need to find my own place, coming back to my nan’s place was a bad idea. I love seeing her but the rest of the family is getting on my nerves. Everyone wants something and my time hasn’t been my own since I stepped through the door. Only way I got to slip away tonight was with a promise to bring home hoagies for everyone.

Have you guys started talking about the trip out to Rocktoberfest yet? Was wondering if you wanted to crash in our RV since Tripp will be in yours? I promise I won’t pester you too much.

Or at all, if you don’t want me to. I know I can get on people’s nerves.

Shit, the way I’m blowing up your phone tonight that’s prolly what I’m doing now. Sorry. I’ll stop.

Kane stopping was the last thing Damien wanted. As the end of the movie unfolded on the screen, Damien realized that he didn’t give a shit how things turned out. Kane has been on his mind all day now and the fact that the man had text, not just once, but multiple times, was deserving of more than just a couple words response. Besides, it seemed like he could use a friendly ear, and if nothing else, Damien could be that for him if he needed to vent. Mind made up, he hit the phone icon to call him, his stomach doing a funny little flip flop in anticipation of hearing his voice. 



So, with Hawk and Aaron, Kelly and Seger effectively drowning out Damien and Kane with all their noise, I switched gears and started working on their story. 97k later, I realized I had a problem. I had two stories in one, with two characters getting all the focus, each one a part of a different relationship. There was so much material that trying to pick and choose what to pull out left my head spinning. On the plus side, I had a novel, but on the negative side, it wasn't a well-rounded one. After two weeks of trying to revise things, I realized that I was going to have to rework too many aspects and add in too many bits to make it work as a rocktoberfest story, so it was back to the drawing board. 

Now, the only plus side to that little story is that I'll have the makings of two more rocker boys novels by the time I get through reshaping that story, currently titled Letters to the Sky Gods, and I think, in the end, readers will truly enjoy Hawk, Aaron, Kelly, Seger, Declan, Cade and Micha, once I get all of the pieces to their stories told the way they need to be. For now though, here is a snippet from early in that novel, as we start to see the dynamic between Hawk and Aaron unfold. 

                                           ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Time melted with each lap he swam. It seemed like the stars were getting closer, or maybe it was just that he’d stared at them so long his concept of space had narrowed. Was almost like sliding into a kaleidoscope, only nothing was splitting and refracting against the glass.

It was the shrilly screaming of his phone that jarred him out of his blissful nothingness and left him floundering in the pool, treading water and swiping at his face as water dripped down it. He didn’t have to reach the phone to know who it was, he had special ringtones for each of his bandmates and Ozzy’s voice announcing All Abord before the intro to Crazy Train was reserved purely for Hawk.

Heaving himself out of the pool into the cool night air, Kelly shivered all the way to the phone, dripping on the screen as his fingers slipped several times before he got it open.

“Hawk…what…” Aaron began before he was abruptly cut off.

“How the fuck could you just walk out on the band like that!” Hawk snapped, voice so loud he might as well have been standing poolside with him.

“I didn’t walk out on nuthin’! Kelly kicked me out.”

“For being a dick, I’m sure.”

“For being honest! For fuck’s sake, Hawk…”

“Are you forgetting I was listening in on the audition tapes too?” Hawk interrupted. “There’s no fuckin’ comparison. Hands down, Micah and Declan outplayed everyone, especially Kazzy. So if you’re on a Kazzy kick ‘cause he’s somehow talked you back into his bed, again, then you can forget what we talked about the other night. It won’t be happening, not when you come visit or ever again.”

“Jesus, fuck, where did that come from!”

“Hearing that you seriously want to have Kazzy of all people, out on the road with you! It’s hard enough for you to keep your shit together as it is, having him around on the daily will be like tossing a hand grenade in a firework factory.”

“I wasn’t thinking about fucking Kazzy when I said we should have him play.”

“Then what were you thinking about?”

“That he knows us, man, and we’re already chill with one another. Wouldn’t be an issue getting used to having him around ‘cause he’s around anyway, whenever I pop down to Shananagins.

“Which should be as infrequently as possible considering your supposed to be staying sober, not storming through a place where it’s as easy for you to get shitfaced as it is to breathe!”

“If Ray told you….”

“All Ray said was that you’d been in there several times a week shooting pool and hitting the stage with Kazzy and his cover band, which he appreciates, ‘cause people show up there hoping to see you, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t notice you eyeing those bottles like a starving man, even if all you’ve asked for was root beer.”

“And let me guess, even if I asked for something harder, he wouldn’t give it to me.” Aaron spat.

“No, he’d give you whatever you wanted, but I can guarantee he’d tell me about it too, which, like the Kazzy thing, would also be a dealbreaker.”

“You keep talking like we’ve worked out something in the first place. All you’ve given me is a whole lot of maybes and we’ll sees. When are you gonna give me a straight fuckin’ answer! Will you give us another shot or not?”

“I’ve given you the only answer I can right now. What you do with it is on you. I didn’t call you to talk about us. I called to talk about the band and you giving up before you even got started.”

“There is no band! Our band is gone. Dead. Buried. The earth has been salted, there is no room for resurrection, you know this. What Kelly’s wanting to do, that has nothing to do with what we created. I don’t see how he expects to play any of the old songs without you. No one can sing them like you do.”

“Bullshit. You can, so stop lying to yourself, me and Kelly! I’ve fucking heard you. I know what your voice sounds like when you’re not trying to hide it, so cut the shit and tell me what the real issue is here so we can solve it and get on with the business of making music like we’ve always done.”

“Only it won’t be like we’ve always done it, ‘cause you’re gone, Ethan’s gone, and Justin fucked right the hell off and told us all to go screw ourselves, remember?”

“How could I forget,” Hawk grumbled, the harshness in his tone bleeding to something melancholy and lost.

“Look, that was on him, not you. You’re doing the right thing.”

“Then how come I feel like I’ve ruined my best friends lives in the process?”

“Because Justin was a dick and said that shit to you.”

“Can you honestly tell me you haven’t been thinking it too?”

Sighing, Aaron wished he could reach through the phone and hug him, ‘cause it sure as hell sounded like Hawk needed one right now. “Not once, okay. Not one single time. I support you completely. The kids need you way more than we do. Your brother entrusted them to you for a reason. He knew you’d do right by them and give them all the joy and love they deserved, so quit thinking we’ve all turned against you, especially me. I wouldn’t have offered to help you with them if I was against you doing it.”

“Both of us didn’t need to quit making music. They’re my family. My responsibility.”

“Funny, I thought I was your family too, only the first time something came along to truly test that, you threw up a wall and cut me loose. Thanks for that, by the way, it feels fuckin’ shitty.”

“Tell me that isn’t what’s going on out there,” Hawk growled, the weariness giving way to pissed off again.

“You’ll have to be more specific, since there are a lot of things going on out here, most of all me missing the hell out of you! So which one are you referring to?”

“You did not fuck things up with the new band hoping that would miraculously change things between us.”

“Told you once already, I didn’t do anything. Kelly was the one who told me to leave, which in hindsight, was the best thing he could have done since I never should have been involved in the project in the first place,” Aaron said. “If all you called to do was threaten to hold our nonexistent relationship over my head, then fuck you. I don’t need it and I don’t need you!”



Talk about a journey. The Road to Rocktoberfest has certainly been filled with twists and turns for me so far. After determining that I would not be able to make Letters to the Sky Gods work in the time left before I needed to have my book ready for release, I did a truly scary thing. I opened a blank document and I started working on a brand-new story...again. Fortunately. Jagger, Kayden, Robbie, Draven, Mickey and Johnny were loud, proud, and unabashed about their rockstar lifestyles. One of the truly lowest angst pieces I've ever written, this book focuses on the bonding as a band, seeing how fast folks can strip one another naked, and of course, Rocktoberfest. The book that became Damaged Saints is one I am so very proud of for a variety of different reasons, the biggest being how freeing it was to just go with the flow of these characters without having to worry about redeeming any of them or working through a bunch of drama. It's fun, flirty, and filled with some seriously steamy bits, including what other uses one can find for a pair of drumsticks. 

Damaged Saints will be out on Friday, but here's a little steamy bit to tide you over until then. 

                                      ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“We’re pretty open to anything that doesn’t involve blood, scat, or someone getting arrested,” Robbie said.

“Damn, and here I was hoping for a quicky in the back of a squad car tonight.”

Smoke erupted from Kayden’s mouth, propelled by a coughing fit that prompted Jagger to pluck the bong from his hand and hit it, letting the smoke coil deep in his lungs and settle there. In the back of his head he recalled Draven’s words about never having smoked until after the accident, to preserve his instrument. Jagger understood the importance of not overindulging, but he’d been longing for the mellow tranquility of good bud all afternoon.

Today’s session had been the best one yet and the first time he’d made it through the entire day without mimicking anything.

“Have you ever actually had a quicky in the back of a squad car?” Kayden asked, sounding skeptical.

“Would you believe me if I said yes?”

“Depends. I’m going to need more details before I make up my mind as to whether you’re bullshitting me or not.”

“You know what they say about the offspring of preachers, teachers, and cops; it really is a bit of a religious experience, getting a blow job in front of a stained-glass window. As for the cop’s son, he just wanted to piss off his old man in as many ways as possible. Leaving a dirty condom in the backseat took the least effort of anything else he came up with and let me tick off a box on my bucket list too.”

“Wait, you mean you actually had fuck in the backseat of a patrol car as a bucket list item?” Kayden asked.

“That you sayin’ you don’t?” Jagger asked just to see the look of skepticism morph into one of shock and admiration.

“What else is on that bucket list you no counting bastard. Stoners everywhere will tell you it’s puff, puff, pass. Not puff, puff, puff, wait until someone snatches it away from you. Why you gotta fuck with tradition?” Robbie asked, reaching for the bong after Jagger had taken his third hit.

“Hey, I was just making sure Kayden’s second hit didn’t go to waste. He only took one before coughing up a lung all over the place, so while the rule is technically puff, puff, pass, there is a little known but still perfectly acceptable practice of carry over at play here.”

When Robbie laughed, it made his eyes look brighter and pulled some of the burned skin tight along the side of his face. It didn’t take anything away from how attractive he was though, or how badly Jagger wanted to get up close and personal with his naked flesh.

“No way in hell you didn’t just make that up,” Robbie said.

“Call Johnny, he’ll tell ya.”

“Oh hell no!” Kayden cut in. “That fucker could sell a quart of sand in the desert and have you thanking him for the privilege of taking your cash.”

Before Jagger could site several other examples of Johnny’s chicanery, he was spun around, Robbie’s hand gripping the front of his t-shirt as he yanked Jagger towards him. The moment Robbie mashed their lips together, Jagger opened his mouth, eagerly receiving the smoke Robbie shotgunned him and Robbie’s tongue chasing after it.

“In case it wasn’t made clear enough to you, this is me saying game on.” Robbie growled before kissing him again.

Jagger’s head was reeling both from the weed and the intensity with which Robbie kissed like he was trying to climb inside Jagger’s body and curl up deep inside him. He barely had time to process just how good those sensations were, when he felt the press of Kayden’s body against his back. Kayden’s fingers swept Jagger’s hair back from the nape of his neck, and his teeth, fuck, it was even better this time than when they’d been sitting on the back of his bike.

A shiver tore down his spine. His breath escaping in a hiss devoured by Robbie’s lips when Kayden bit him again, then soothed the sting with his tongue. He kept finding all the sensitive spots along Jagger’s neck and shoulders that reduced him to a whining mess.

“Now it’s my turn for questions,” Robbie growled as he grabbed the hem of Jagger’s shirt and pulled it up over his head.

“Anything!” Jagger gasped.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Long as I can still sing for tomorrow’s session it’s all good.”



While you wait for Damaged Saints, I have not one, not two, but three of my rocker boys books on sale, including the Rocktoberfest books from the previous two editions. 2020's Tattered Angel and 2022's Bleeding Dawn. You can get them for $1.99 each until Friday, along with my first Rocker Romance, released in 2017. Desolation Angel is about a band who hasn't made it big yet. They're best friends who share almost everything, only a few of them have been holding on to a secret, one that just might destroy their hopes for the future before their rise to stardom has even begun. Look for Damaged Saints to take the stage at next year's Rocktoberfest...but you just might want to read their story first to see how it was they got there.

Available on Amazon

Damaged Saints    *Preorder*

 

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