Ever wonder what it feels like to be a celebrity rock star?
With 151 reviews at 4.6*****, this Romantic Suspense #1 Bestseller is a great bargain.
"Necessary Detour thrills with a rush of page-turning suspense and sexy twists!"
~ Ann Charles, USA Today Bestselling Author of the Deadwood Mystery Series
Here's the first few lines of the book to see if you connect with my writing style:
Click Here to Find the Novel on AMAZON www.bit.ly/NecDet
Goldy walked onstage to the thunderous screaming of the
crowd. The explosion of applause inside the Los
was the tangible evidence of their love for her; love that had fueled her drive
over the years to get to this point. Soon she would desert them. Staple Center
“Necessary Detour,” she mouthed off microphone, not waiting for Burn’s reaction. They hadn’t played the hit song since she and Burn vowed to never give it credit again. But tonight, it was the only appropriate song for their final encore. If someone was going to kill her, she’d damn well have the last word.
Grabbing the downstage microphone, she scanned the front row of the Staple Center Arena. “You are insatiable!” she shouted to the 60,000 people who were on their feet, shouting for their beloved rock star to do one more song.
“Necessary Detour!” Burn yelled to the band. “1,2,1,2,3.” The opening chords filled the cavernous arena and the crowd roared.
Goldy wasn’t smiling as she strutted along the cat walk, spotlight in her eyes, staring out at the sea of pumping fists. “If you’re out there Shakespeare, this one is for you.”
The intro played twice before Goldy jumped into the lyrics she’d written about her stalker who’d become known as ‘Yellow’ by the band – named from a fan’s feeble attempt to emulate Goldy’s platinum hair, kohled eyes, thigh high gold boots and signature arm cuffs. It was pitiful to watch Yellow let her fan worship overtake her and jeopardize her Goldy’s life.
“You think you got me.
You think we’re done.
I’ve only started
And it’s not fun.
You make me see,
The other side
It’s not pretty
But I’m not one to hide”
At first it was amusing to see Yellow in the front row of Goldy concerts around the LA area. The band commented on how she must blow every paycheck on tickets. Then everything changed.
After a show in
Goldy was signing autographs for a group of fans when Yellow pushed her way to
the front and flicked out a pen knife. In gushing adoration, she asked Goldy for an autograph
in cuts on her scarred forearm. Two body guards reached to grab her but Goldy
held them back with a single look, then took the penknife from Yellow’s hand
and closed it. She girl was obviously high on something, rambling about how
she’d never be complete without something permanent from Goldy. Pasadena
“I’ll sign your arm but with a marker.” Goldy’s voice was audible only to Yellow.
“No. Cut me!” Tears streamed down the young girl’s pitiful face. Her eyes were as big as poker chips, her hair teased and wild.
A bodyguard moved in to take the knife, lurking just between the two women, as if ready to spring.
“What’s your name?” Goldy asked.
“My name is Goldy.”
“No, my name is Goldy. What’s your name?”
Just as the bodyguard moved in to take the fan’s arm, her face changed frighteningly fast, as though rejection had arrived to take her under. Her gaze measured Dwayne, the towering guard, as if planning how to take him on. She spit a huge gob of saliva in Goldy’s face and made a record breaking exit, disappearing into the mass of fans. Dwayne radioed security but she was gone.
“You say you love me
But do you know
That all you bring
Is the need to have control
I’m done with looking
For your face
You can stay down
In your hiding place”
A warrant went out for Yellow’s arrest when she planted a bomb under Goldy’s tour bus. ‘Necessary Detour’ hit number one on the charts and shortly after, Yellow quietly slit her wrists in the front row of a Goldy concert and bled to death.
The next few bookings were cancelled while Goldy questioned her own sense of morality. After a week of soul searching,
’s beloved rock icon dropped
the song from her repertoire. America
One way or another, this would be the last time anyone would hear her sing these words.
“I’m giving back
The fear you want
We’re ending this now,”
Goldy’s voice rose with intensity as she jumped an octave.
“It won’t be long….”
Burn’s guitar screamed as he poured himself into a frenetic guitar solo.
Prancing across the massive space that she’d owned for two decades, Goldy had to believe that Shakespeare wouldn’t take her out with a bullet. Shooting wasn’t his style. What had he meant in the last letter, saying he’d take her out at the end? Maybe it was written only to create false confidence.
Goldy gestured to the crowd, not knowing if she was staring into the face of the demon. Tonight she dared any one of them to take her on.
“It’s a necessary detour,
No more spinning round,
It’s a necessary detour
Now you’re going down
You shouldn’t have started this,
I’m fighting back,
Shouldn’t have taken on
The qualities you lack,
I’m here to warn you,
You better give,
If you don’t walk away
You’re not gonna live
To tell the tale of me,
Because this detour’s…necessary”
A dozen FBI agents peppered the audience, looking for anyone suspicious; anyone who looked like they might have written six months’ worth of heinous letters that threatened to torture Goldy with unimaginable creativity. Trickling acid along her face, then watching her melt was Shakespeare’s style--capture, torture, then relish in the hours, possibly days, that it took him to claim her life. That was his “fondest wish.”
Burn’s ripping guitar wrapped up the instrumental, once again proving he was one of the world’s best guitarists. He’d been an unintentionally horrible husband – negligent and unfaithful. Everything they’d been through as a couple had been necessary to achieve this end result, though, and being Goldy had been a sweet ride for a very long time. Too long, in some ways.
She moved to stage left where a stray bullet wouldn’t hit anyone else. If Shakespeare chose to break character she sure as hell didn’t want an innocent to suffer. With one verse left, Goldy pulled the microphone away from her lips to make a powerful run to the end and, as she did, a shot of electricity domino’ed from her hand, along her arm and hit her torso like a jack hammer. The pain was formidable. Goldy’s brain got the message and her hand flew open to drop the microphone on the stage floor. Her first thought was to finish the song. Get the last line beyond her lips. Pretend nothing is wrong.
As she ran to Burn’s microphone, she was acutely aware of the other one lying behind her on the stage like the pariah it now was. Soon the FBI would be all over the stage, if they weren’t already running toward her. Goldy noticed Agent Gateman waving frantically from his post offstage, two seconds from shutting everything down.
She shook her head and him, her steely gaze telling him to wait. Her left arm hung limp as she picked Burn’s microphone off the stand with her right hand. The band continued on like the pros they were and, hearing the approaching notes, she took a deep breath.
“It’s a Necessary Detour,
You gotta know
It’s a Necessary Detour
This detour’s ……..Necessary!”
Goldy’s punched the air with her good arm, positioned her legs wide apart with her head tilted back. This had always been her trademark pose. It punctuated the final moment of any concert. The band laid their instruments on the stage and came out from behind, clapping with the audience in their adoration of Goldy.
With the emotion of the moment and the pain in her arm, she fought tears. Moving upstage to the edge, she held her arms out to receive their love, then brought the microphone in to her words. Her arm still worked, it just felt strange, weakened. “Goodnight everyone!” she shouted above the din. “I – HAVE – LOVED – YOU!” Gold confetti rained over the masses and as always in the final moments of her concert, Goldy reached to get something from a security man and spun a gold Frisbee into the crowd. A disc that contained a voucher for a family vacation in
Applause filled the arena’s rafters. “Goldy! Goldy! Goldy!”
The rock star waved one last time to the people who’d been her reason for almost everything in the last twenty years and then turned to leave the party while she was still having fun. Cradling her arm, Goldy ran offstage and was immediately flanked by two paramedics who caught her just before her multi-million dollar backside hit the floor in a faint.
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