Pulse: BBW Contemporary Rock Star Romance

Contents

Copyright Page

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

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PULSE: BBW CONTEMPORARY ROCK STAR ROMANCE

 

Blair Aaron

 

Copyright 2015 Blair Aaron

All rights reserved.

Blair Aaron

Pulse:

(BBW Contmeporary Rock Star Romance)

First Edition

Book design by Blair Aaron

Cover Image Copyright 2016, used under a Creative Commons Attribution License

 

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

 

CHECK OUT AN EXCERPT

 

 

 

CHAPTER 1

 

The crowd pulsed and groaned like some sort of post-gothic hive mind, dressed in an abundance of black with the occasional head of bright pink or green hair. A monolithic stage covered by heavy curtains rose far above the ocean of expectant fans. Scaffolding around the edges held the lights and pyrotechnics that lingered in the crowd's imagination, faintly warning them the explosions would burst into violent action.

Alyssa, dressed also in black and having recently dyed her hair the same, stood at the back of the crowd on a small rise from which the whole amphitheater was visible. Her skin was powdered white and her lips a deep shade of red. A black top was tucked into a short red plaid skirt that exhibited her long legs. She pulled on her cigarette and waited in heady anticipation for the moment the curtains would pull apart.

“Hey,” a voice said from behind. A woman of roughly the same age with dusty blonde hair and an assortment of rings and studs on her lips and eyebrows stood behind Alyssa, who smiled when she saw her familiar face.

“Jane, oh my god!” The two embraced and smiled at one another. Behind Jane, a tall man with a stone-faced expression stood waiting for her to introduce her. He wore a band t-shirt with the type of logo that was so damned metal that the text was illegible.

“This is my boyfriend Ron,” Jane said, waving him over. Alyssa waved at him. He raised his chin slightly in reply.

“I didn't know you were coming!” said Alyssa.

“Neither did I, till this morning.”

“Well, I'm glad you're here. I thought I'd be watching the show alone.”

Jane chuckled. She looked behind her at the various food vendors, sizing up the line. “Show's about to start, shall we grab a drink?”

Alyssa bit her lip. “You go,” she said, “I'll meet you back here.”

“Don't be stupid, it's on me,” Jane said.

Alyssa sighed, then looked to the stage where a ball of furious potential energy was forming, then to the long queue leading away from the bar. “Alright,” Alyssa said, shrugging, “Are you sure?”

“Of course!”

 

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Our publishing company offers short stories and novels in various genres. As a courtesy, we have included several bonus works from various genres, which you might be interested in. Please take the time, if you’re so inclined, to check out our
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CHAPTER 1

 

The crowd pulsed and groaned like some sort of post-gothic hive mind, dressed in an abundance of black with the occasional head of bright pink or green hair. A monolithic stage covered by heavy curtains rose far above the ocean of expectant fans. Scaffolding around the edges held the lights and pyrotechnics that lingered in the crowd's imagination, faintly warning them the explosions would burst into violent action.

Alyssa, dressed also in black and having recently dyed her hair the same, stood at the back of the crowd on a small rise from which the whole amphitheater was visible. Her skin was powdered white and her lips a deep shade of red. A black top was tucked into a short red plaid skirt that exhibited her long legs. She pulled on her cigarette and waited in heady anticipation for the moment the curtains would pull apart.

“Hey,” a voice said from behind. A woman of roughly the same age with dusty blonde hair and an assortment of rings and studs on her lips and eyebrows stood behind Alyssa, who smiled when she saw her familiar face.

“Jane, oh my god!” The two embraced and smiled at one another. Behind Jane, a tall man with a stone-faced expression stood waiting for her to introduce her. He wore a band t-shirt with the type of logo that was so damned metal that the text was illegible.

“This is my boyfriend Ron,” Jane said, waving him over. Alyssa waved at him. He raised his chin slightly in reply.

“I didn't know you were coming!” said Alyssa.

“Neither did I, till this morning.”

“Well, I'm glad you're here. I thought I'd be watching the show alone.”

Jane chuckled. She looked behind her at the various food vendors, sizing up the line. “Show's about to start, shall we grab a drink?”

Alyssa bit her lip. “You go,” she said, “I'll meet you back here.”

“Don't be stupid, it's on me,” Jane said.

Alyssa sighed, then looked to the stage where a ball of furious potential energy was forming, then to the long queue leading away from the bar. “Alright,” Alyssa said, shrugging, “Are you sure?”

“Of course!”

CHAPTER 2

 

After a decent time spent waiting in line, the three of them left the drinks stand each with two red solo cups in hand. Alyssa resumed her spot on the hill, but Jane ushered them further down into the crowd. The tangle of bodies created a wall of heat, of unbreathable air. Alyssa hated being elbow-to-elbow with sweaty strangers, but loved Crucible of Lucifer that much more and would walk through hell to see them live. So she decided to grin and bear it.

Jane directed them deeper and deeper into the fray, pushing people aside with a confidence and gusto that Alyssa would not have managed on her own. Before long they were two or three heads from the front.

“This is better!” said Jane, lighting a cigarette and holding it at an awkward angle so as to not singe the gentleman’s afro in front of her.

Alyssa nodded, taking a swill from one of her cups. “Thanks for the drinks, by the way.”

Jane gave a care-free shrug. “I know you're kinda hard-up at the moment, I gotcha.” Her friend's concern warmed Alyssa's heart. Just as she was standing there feeling happy for a night no longer lonely but now in the company of friends, the sound of a deep and penetrating bass drum surged through the crowd. It was so loud and so thick that it vibrated every muscle in her body and stirred the butterflies in her gut. The sound of the drums came slowly at first; dum-dum, silence, dum-dum, silence, dum-DUM-dum, like some tribal chant calling the crowd to a foreign place it knew was home.

When the curtains began their swift glide apart, the crowd roared. Jane shot Alyssa an excited grin and Ron put his arm around her. At first, the stage was dark, but the silhouettes outlined the five band members against the artificial smoke pouring from machines on either side. The bass rhythm continued as teenage stand hands wearing the band's infamous logo pulled the curtains aside. And then, complete silence fell over the stage, then spreading throughout the crowd.

There were gasps in the crowd, but all else was quiet. Then the drummer made a metronome of his cymbal and timed the others in. Suddenly guitars wailed, drums crashed and an explosion of orange light washed over the stage and illuminated the band members. The screams from the crowd split Alyssa's ears.

“I love you Ian!” came not one but six voices, directed at the lead singer who sidled slowly up to the mic with a relaxed smile.

“Good evening you crazy fuckers,” he said with a charming slur over the rhythmic crashing of the band, “How are you tonight?”

A stupendous exclamation sounded from the crowd. The collective yells were piercing, sharp. Jane leaned into Alyssa to whisper, “God he's so fuckin' hot.”

Alyssa laughed, shrugged. Her eyes were on Callum, the lead guitarist, whose shoulder-length grey-brown hair hung free and framed his face against a tight beard.

“This song's called Oxytocin.” said Ian, immediately spinning around to face his band members and nod his head in time as the opening riff began.

The music was fast and cutting, giving off a quality of adrenaline and senseless violence. Towards the front, the crowd parted to create a pit in which thirty or forty revelers thrashed about, throwing their limbs around like weapons. They crashed into each other and away from each other, tossing their weight around in a mindless trance. For the most part, they were skinheads, peppered with a few less strikingly rough-types, all in a fugue-state as they launched about in a blur.

Jane and Alyssa jumped up and down where they stood, partly to the music and partly to avoid being trampled by the pulsating crowd that heaved in all around them. At the apex of every jump, Alyssa caught a breath of fresh air away from the conglomeration of body heat. Her hair fell over her face and launched up again, only to fall back down. She watched Callum with wild fixation through her hair-covered field of view. He stood three paces to the left of front-man Ian, tall and lanky but with strongly defined arms boasted out of a long black singlet. His guitar, a cherry-red Gibson SG, hung low by his crotch and swung from side to side as his body moved with the amphetamine energy of the music.

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