Date Published: February 7, 2017
Working for a cranky, old hermit in an isolated house sounds like Ruby’s idea of heaven – but her boss isn't quite what she expects.
Tex is a fugitive from the rock and roll world – a tragedy abruptly halted his career. No one knows why he quit, no one knows where he is.
The two of them live in the same house, avoiding each other, until Tex screws up, endangering their lives and forcing them to move into close quarters. Suddenly, the idea of human contact seems more appealing, if only with each other. The sanctuary they have built is enough for Ruby -- the man she grows to love is Tex the hermit, not Tex the rock star -- but the outside world encroaches.
She thinks their fledgling love can’t shine brighter than the rock dream but can Ruby bear to let Tex go?
I was curious to know what he was like on stage. Could the brooding man that had been thrown into my life actually capture a crowd? It sounded like that festival he’d been asked to headline was a huge deal. He wouldn’t be offered something like that without a reason.
The signal on the beach was a bit dodgy and I had to wait for an age for the video to load. I’d found a clip of him performing, not just a video clip with him lip syncing to a backing track. Finally, I had enough cached to play the thing without it jumping around like a mad woman.
It wasn’t like I had the experience to know what made a band good or not, so I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. That man who walked on stage at the beginning of the song was just a pimped-up version of the Tex I knew. He walked proud instead of slouching but he had the same sardonic smile.
As the lyrics belted out to be carried away by the wind, the man on stage took control of the thousands of people watching him. What he did wasn’t natural. It was some kind of witchery or voodoo. He became someone else. A powerhouse of thrusts and growls. Every move he made was larger than life.
Feelings welled up in me while I watched him. Strange, unfamiliar feelings. Sensations powered through my body, heating me up despite the winter chill. My skin flushed and tingled. As soon as the song finished, I replayed it, needing to hear it again. Needing to see him again.
I imagined what it would be like to have that man on stage sweep me up in his arms, pressing his lips against mine, stripping me naked.
Oh. My. God. I wanted to have sex with that man. But that man was Tex.
About the Author
Candy J. Starr used to be a band manager until she realised that the band she managed was so lacking in charisma that they actually sucked the charisma out of any room they played. “Screw you,” she said, leaving them to wallow in obscurity – totally forgetting that they owed her big bucks for video equipment hire.
Candy has filmed and interviewed some big names in the rock business, and a lot of small ones. She’s seen the dirty little secrets that go on in the back rooms of band venues. She’s seen the ugly side of rock and the very pretty one.
But, of course, everything she writes is fiction.