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
Chapter 1
Goldy walked onstage to the
thunderous screaming of the Los
Angeles 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 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, 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 Hawaii
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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