Read Lost Avalon: A Finding Nolan Novel Online
Authors: K.S. Thomas
Lost Avalon: A Finding Nolan Novel
Lost
Avalon
By K.S. Thomas
Copyright © 2014 - by Karina Gioertz.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the consent of the author, except where permitted by law.
Lost Avalo
n
is a work of fiction. All characters and subject matter are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, alive of dead, is entirely coincidental.
COVER BY SOLOUD!MEDIA ~
www.soloudmedia.de
EDITING BY WENDY SMITH
“Come Back To Me”
ORIGINAL SONG AND LYRICS BY BRANDON MARRS
https://soundcloud.com/brandon-marrs-1
http://www.reverbnation.com/brandonmarrs/song/21413058-come-back-to-me
First and foremost I have to say thanks to Clare and all the others over at RIAM. I decided on a whim to join the group and participate in the challenge of writing a romance in a month, and I’m so glad I did because I had a blast. Oh, and I wrote this book – BONUS!
Running a close second (and nearly tied for first) for my unwavering appreciation are Avalon’s awesome Betas ~ Alyssa, Stephanie, J.C., Debbie, Nancy and Tawnya! Thank you all!!
As always, I owe an ocean of gratitude to those I love and am lucky to be loved b
y
Your
support means more to me than you will ever know
Last, but certainly no least, I would like to thank YOU! Thank you for reading this book. I hope you enjoy Blaise and Ava’s journey as much as I have enjoyed writing it.
For Harry.
(Totally kidding.)
Somewhere in the
black abyss that surrounded me, I heard my phone ringing.
“Hello?”
Silence. I sat up and blinked several times trying to wake up and adjust my eyes to the darkness.
“Is anyone there?”
I heard someone swear under their breath.
Then, “Ava? I’m lost. I need you to come and find me.”
Automatically my eyes swept the room until they caught on the bright red numerals of the standard hotel alarm clock.
“Shit, Blaise. It’s fucking four o’clock in the morning.” I was already peeling back the warmth of my comforter and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. This was so typical. “What are you looking at right now?”
“Um, there’s a big green stripe on the wall. It’s really fucking ugly.” He was doing his wheezy drunk laugh, the one I hated. On the plus side, at least I knew he was in the building. The halls of the hotel were lined with a thick olive colored band over a shimmering champagne. It was tacky as hell and reeked of expensive, but then those were the types of places we were staying in these days.
“Are there any doors around? Any numbers on the walls?” I was busy pulling on a pair of sweats more suitable for roaming the hotel at night than the boxer shorts I was wearing.
“No, no numbers.” Then he groaned loudly and I heard the distinct sound of rushing liquids.
“Are you taking a piss right now?!” I slid out of my sweats again. I knew exactly where he was.
“No.” Then the undeniable sound of a zipper followed.
“Just don’t move. I’ll be right there.” I was already making my way through the penthouse suite we were staying in and headed straight for the doors. When I pulled them open, there was Blaise looking all kinds of busted and standing right beside one of the two extremely large flower pots placed on each side of the double doors.
I glanced up at the security cameras and gave an apologetic smile before turning my attention back onto Blaise.
“You’re pathetic,” I grumbled as I held the door open and stepped aside for him to stumble in.
“You’re amazing.” He grinned sheepishly as he went by.
“Too bad you won’t remember that in the morning.” I sighed. “Come on. You need a shower. You smell like a fucking whorehouse.”
I took Blaise’s hand and started to lead the way to the bathroom. Considering he’d been standing right outside of the suite and had been unable to find it, it was highly unlikely he’d be able to locate the shower if left to his own devices.
“Careful,” I hissed, snatching away the floor lamp he had randomly selected to use as a walking stick on his way through the living room. “Keep it up and you’ll wake the guys.” After all, the penthouse suite had been booked for the entire band. Not just the lead singer.
It had all started in my garage seven years ago. This was after nearly three years of my pushing Blaise to bring his crazy brilliant talent out of hiding. When he finally did, he found three guys to do it with. Derek Sills on the guitar, Royce Lemmi on Bass and Angel Hollis on Drums. Together they made up what was now known worldwide as Finding Nolan.
The name was laughable really since it was a running joke that Blaise was always missing. Back in high school he’d get lost in thought and wander off track somewhere and wind up sitting on some bus stop bench with no recollection of having walked there. These days it was mostly due to alcohol. Either way, it seemed that as long as I could remember, I had been stuck with the task of finding Nolan. Blaise Nolan that is. People had been finding
the band
all on their own ever since word of their music started making the rounds back in our junior year.
Nights like tonight I wondered if fame had really been a good thing for Blaise. Music, sure. Music was a part of him, the best part probably, but celebrity and success had proven more challenging than I’d expected. Maybe because I’d foolishly believed that a future worth looking toward would keep Blaise from always facing back. I’d been wrong. If anything, his past seemed to haunt him more the closer he got to getting everything he’d ever wanted.
“Stop that.” This time he was holding a glass candle holder up to his mouth like a trumpet. I caught him just before he was about to blow. “Hands in your pockets, now!”
“I’d rather put them in your pockets.” He leered at me, his eyes dropping down to my ass.
“You’re shit out of luck. I don’t have any.” I shook my head in disgust. Booze brought out the worst in him.
“No problem.” Before I knew what was happening, I could feel his cold clammy hands slide into the back of my pants.
“What the fuck, Blaise?” I spun around and shoved him hard in the chest. He lost his balance and went tumbling over the edge of the couch, over the cushions and then rolled onto the floor where his face made impact with the coffee table and brought him to a stop.
“Shit, Avalon. I think I’m bleeding.” He was cupping his left eyebrow with his hand.
Fucking fantastic
.
“Come on.” I reached for his free arm and started dragging him to his feet. It was a fucking miracle Royce hadn’t woken up yet. He slept about as soundly as a fireman on duty.
Then, finally, we were in the master bedroom with the door shut behind us. I gently moved his hand to check his eye. He automatically went to put it back and I slapped it out of the way. “Let me take a look at it, you big baby.”