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Feral Gaze
A New Adult Rock Star Ménage Romance
(Feral Silence Series Book One)
By Athena Wright
COPYRIGHT © 2015 Athena Wright
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
SUMMARY
WITH DEVOTED FANS and a panty-melting gaze, Jayce of Feral Silence is an untouchable rockstar god.
Amateur music critic Ailey is no different. Although she tries to be unbiased in her reviews, she can’t help swooning over Jayce’s musical genius.
That doesn’t escape the notice of Neil, the guy Ailey’s been flirting with online. Ailey reassures him: She would never chase after a rock star like some desperate groupie.
But when Ailey gets a summer internship at Jayce’s music label, her resolve is tested. Although she has strong feelings for Neil, she’s finding it impossible to resist her attraction to Jayce.
What happens when a rock star god meets the one girl who sees beyond his cocky facade?
Feral Gaze is a sexy MFM ménage rock star romance. It is the first novel in the Feral Silence series.
PROLOGUE
THE CONCERT VENUE was dark. The only light in the packed hall came from the light sticks in each fan’s hand. They chanted over and over, calling out for the men they adored from afar, waving their arms in time with the shouts.
“Fe-ral Si-lence! Fe-ral Si-lence!”
Interspersed, in the few quiet moments between chants, individual names could be heard in the screams.
“Jayce is my god!”
“I love you, Kell!”
“Ren, have my babies!”
“Marry me, Morris!”
Some fans had made glowing neon signs with light sticks on poster board.
Feral Silence Stole My Heart
I Would Sell My Soul For Feral Silence
I Love Feral Silence More Than Chocolate
A haze of dry ice rolled over the stage floor, spilling onto the first few rows. The thick fog brought with it an almost supernatural atmosphere, a combination of tension and excitement. Squeals sounded from dozens of throats. They knew something was happening soon.
A dim spotlight burst forth from the ceiling, falling onto the back of the stage. It light up Morris and his drum set, his face still hidden in shadow. His stocky body was still as a statue, drumsticks held loosely in his hands, hovering over the drums. The screams ignited even louder. The chanting started up again.
“Fe-ral Si-lence!! Fe-ral Si-lence!!”
The chanting went on for several long minutes until the fans could no longer keep in sync. The screaming slowly dissolved into low murmurs and random shouts.
Another light fell upon the stage, lighting up Ren to the right, his bass guitar hanging loosely from its strap across his shoulder. He kept his head down, long, glossy black hair falling over his face, hiding him from view.
The fans went crazy again, yelling out his name, stretching their hands as if they could reach out and touch him.
Ren’s fitted black suit made him look as lean and tall as ever, the shadow cast by his body almost eerily slender. The details of his suit were cloaked in shadow, but any true fan knew it would be adorned with intricate buttons, a brass pocket watch, and a skinny tie.
After screaming their hearts out, the noise from the fans died down a few notches. They had caught on quickly. They were shushing each other, telling their friends to stop yelling and chanting. Eventually, the audience was as quiet as an audience of that size could be. Even the one-off shouts had stopped. Low, quiet breaths were almost audible in the silent hall.
A third light appeared, trapping Jayce in a glowing halo. His face was half-turned away from the audience, keeping his side profile in the dark. His hands gripped his pure white guitar, dark, lithe fingers resting loosely on the strings. Jayce’s eyes glimmered, narrow and fierce, ready to ensnare the audience with his gaze. One corner of his mouth tilted slightly upwards, fighting back a smirk.
The fans went crazy. A few people started up a chant of “Jayce, Jayce, Jayce!” that seemed to go on forever. Girls sobbed in the front row, tears streaming down their pink cheeks. They covered their mouths with their hands as if they couldn’t believe their eyes.
The chanting slowed down, and the audience waited with baited breath. The whole room seemed to be awash with anticipation, the tension almost visible in the air. Every so often the crowd’s volume would rise in pitch, only to quiet down again, a roiling wave of voices.
At long last, the fourth and final spotlight hit center stage, lighting up Kell with his microphone stand, messy blond hair falling over his forehead. Kell’s usual ripped jeans and sneakers gave him a casual edge that belied the fire they knew burned inside him.
He stared out at the audience, flashing his manic grin. The fans went wild. He leaned forward into the microphone and the screaming got even louder. He brought a hand up to caress the stand. Voices reached a hysterical pitch. He huffed out a pleased laugh, blowing air into the microphone. He seemed to enjoy making them wait, making them beg. He surveyed the audience from left to right as they screamed and screamed until their throats and lungs gave out. He put a hand to his eyes, shielding them from the bright lights to get a better look at the fans gathered before him.
Finally, he spoke, “You guys ready?”
“Yes!!”
Morris crashed the cymbals and stomped on the bass drum pedal.
“I said, are you ready!?”
“Yes!!”
Ren rammed his hand across the bass guitar strings, sending a powerful thrum through the crowd, reverberating in every chest.
“ARE YOU FUCKING READY??”
“YESSS!!!”
Jayce’s fingers flew up the fret board as he looked out at the audience with a hungry, heated gaze.
“THEN LET’S DO THIS!!”
The concert was on.
CHAPTER 1
JAYCE JUST RELEASED an acoustic version of Crossroads Rage. BRB, gracing my ears with musical ambrosia.
Posted by @AudioAiley 2 minutes ago
I paused for a minute after I hit send. Was I fawning too much? No, I decided. It was a fact that Jayce’s acoustic solos were magical. I tapped again to download the song and added it to my playlist. I slipped my headphones on over my ears, not wanting the librarians to come over and shush me. I never got much of my music review work done at home. My comfy, inviting bed was visible from the computer desk in my tiny apartment and I lacked the willpower to resist afternoon naps. The library was the one place I could concentrate to get work done.
My phone pinged, and I glanced at it quickly. A notification on CHATTR, the hottest new social network.
@PointShootNeil: Is there something I should know?
@AudioAiley: About what?
You’ve been posting about that Jayce guy an awful lot lately. Are there wedding bells in your future?
You know it’s not like that. He’s untouchable. An icon. A god. My love for him is a fangirl love. It’s not real.
Just because he’s a rock star doesn’t mean he’s untouchable.
You think I’m gonna hang backstage at his concerts and try to get his attention like a groupie? You know me better than that.
As much as he liked to tease me about my obsession with the guitarist of Feral Silence, Neil did know me better. We’d never met in person and had only been exchanging messages online for six months, but it felt like I’d known him for years. I hoped he felt the same.
Doesn’t your boyfriend get jealous when you
wax poetic about your fantasy husband?
You know I’m single. Thanks for rubbing it in.
I was pretty active on a few social media sites and had a bit of a following in the music scene. A user named PointShootNeil had messaged me one day, complimenting one of my album reviews. It was hard to be thorough and concise, but he seemed to enjoy my pithy commentary. I’d checked out his profile and learned he was into films and cinematography. We continued messaging back and forth, getting to know one another. I didn’t know much about him aside from what he shared online. We didn’t even know what each other looked like. His avatar was a headshot, but it was blurred and distorted. Mine was a full body shot, but my face was in shadow. Each of us guarded our private lives religiously, not wanting to open ourselves up to internet trolls. Despite that, I considered him a friend. Maybe it was because he didn’t know me in real life that I felt like I could open up to him.
Do you want to change that?
I blinked, re-reading the message. I scrolled back up, and realization dawned on me.
Are you asking me out?
Yes.
A smile crept onto my face. Neil and I shared the same bluntness. It was refreshing to find someone like that.
My phone buzzed with an email message. I was going to ignore it—this conversion was more important—until I saw who it was from.
[email protected]
RE: job application, social media intern
My stomach leapt into my throat and I let out a small squeak. I looked around quickly, embarrassed, but no one on the 3rd floor of the library had noticed.
My thumb hovered over the screen, debating whether or not to open the email. This moment, this one moment, had the potential to change my life forever. I squeezed my eyelids shut, held my breath and tapped. There. It was done. Decision made.
My heart thumped loudly in my chest, my pulse racing. I was getting dizzy, my lungs burned, and I realized I had stopped breathing. I forced myself to wheeze in and out, wishing I had a paper bag to blow into.
I opened my eyes.
Dear Aimee Lee,
Thank you for your interest Dark Sound Studios. After reviewing your application, we are pleased to offer you the summer position of social media intern for…
I didn’t get any further than that before I squealed out loud, a continuous noise rising in pitch with every second. The sound only died down when I ran out of breath. I didn’t even care if I was loud enough to be heard from several floors above and below—let them try to shush me.
After what felt like hundreds of internship applications, I’d finally done it. I’d spent days on my application, thinking over every sentence, every word. I wrote and re-wrote a sample social media plan more times than I could count. I debated which examples of my work to showcase in my portfolio for hours.
And it had worked. I’d gotten the job. I silently thanked my CHATTR follower who sent me the link to the job post. I never would have thought to apply to Dark Sound Studios if I hadn’t seen it. My phone buzzed again, and a message popped up over the email.
…Did I come on too strong?
Neil. He was still waiting for my answer. He would have to wait a little while longer. This news had to be shared.
I got a summer internship!!
I restrained myself from using more than two exclamation marks.
Oh wow! Congrats!
Thanks!
So I guess this means you’ll be busy all summer?
I bit my lip, debating. Neil had asked me out, and I wanted to say yes, but this could be my big break into the music industry. It was my last summer before starting my senior year of college. I’d been planning on taking summer courses to graduate early if I hadn’t gotten the internship. The job description said travel was required. I had no idea where I’d be for the next three or four months.
I like you, Neil. I’d like to give us a try. I really would. But I think I need to focus all my attention on this opportunity. For now.
I understand.
Maybe when summer’s over we could get together and you could buy me a drink. See if there’s any chemistry?
I’d like that.
I grinned and clutched my phone to my chest. An amazing social media job working with rock stars this summer and a chance to date the guy I’d been messaging online when it was over.
It looked like being an internet-addicted fangirl was starting to pay off.
OFFICIALLY, MY TITLE was Social Media Coordinator. Unofficially, I was the Internet Girl. I’d been hired to work at Dark Sound Studios, posting all the interesting things going on at the fledgling music label on various social media sites. They were just starting out, but one of their biggest acts, Feral Silence, was setting the music scene ablaze. Lead singer and backup guitarist Kell, drummer Morris, bassist Ren, and their guitarist and backup vocalist Jayce.
My fantasy husband.
Jayce wasn’t the only reason I applied for the position. I was serious about getting my foot in the door, serious about making a name for myself in the industry. This opportunity was once in a lifetime.
But I won’t lie. The fact that my idol was one of Dark Sound Studios’ major acts definitely helped.
I doubted I would ever meet him. The band was busy working on their sophomore album. Rumor had it they were sequestered away for the summer to hammer it out. That was probably a good thing. I’d been lucky enough to see Feral Silence live more than a dozen times. One glimpse of Jayce on stage was always enough to send me into a fangirl tizzy for months. I didn’t know how I’d react if I actually met him in person.
The email told me to show up for my first day at one of the medium-sized concert venues in the city. Dark Sound sure was throwing me right into it. I wondered if I’d get any training at all, or if I’d be expected to fend for myself.
I’d been to this concert venue many times before, usually to see acts I liked, but sometimes to see acts I’d never heard so I could review them online. That was how I’d discovered some of my favorite music.
It wasn’t, however, how I’d heard of Feral Silence. It seemed like one day everyone on the internet was talking about them and I just had to check them out for myself. One music video was all it took. I went out and bought a physical copy of their debut album immediately. I attended every concert I could. I followed their every move online.
I’d never seen Feral Silence at this venue, though. It was a two-story converted Victorian-style house. It was a novelty being able to walk straight up to the front door without having to wait in line behind a hundred fans.
“Name?”
The intimidating security guard at the front door held a clipboard and wore a headset over his ears. He made me nervous even though I had every right to be there.
“Ailey. No, sorry, Aimee Lee. A-I-M-E-E,” I spelled it out. They’d be using my real name on their list, not my nickname.
“Sign here.”
I scribbled my signature and got a staff badge in return. The beefy security guard moved aside so I could walk around him, but ignored me after that. Music was already blasting through the front doors when I opened them. A band must have been practicing for a show that night.
I had no idea what I was doing, and there was no one to greet me. Was this some sort of test? I already knew my way around, so I walked through the front foyer, passed coat check, and took the side stairs down toward the pit.
There were two spots I might have been able to find a member of staff: either backstage or right in front of the stage. Hopefully I’d find someone who could introduce me to Deena Malik, the band’s manager and my soon-to-be-boss.
The stage was closer, so I headed down. At least this way I could get a glimpse of which band was practicing. I couldn’t think of any Dark Sound Studios’ bands scheduled for a show that night. I’d done research on all their acts, from the newest and smallest to the most established and popular. Maybe I’d be able to impress my new boss if I could show her I’d come prepared.
I opened another set of doors and came out on the ground floor, in the general admission standing area, right in front of the stage.
My heart stopped in my chest.
CHAPTER 2
MY HEART DIDN’T literally stop, but if I was ever going to die from a heart attack, that moment was it.
There was a four-member band on stage. The lead singer was clad in ripped blue jeans and a black t-shirt with cartoon wolves on it. It stretched tightly over his broad shoulders, but fell loosely over the rest of his sinewy frame. His messy blond hair flopped over his handsome face, the strands falling just barely into his eyes, dark blue and glittering. He growled his lyrics into the microphone, his expressive face radiating a bevy of emotions, from anguished to furious to wistful, all within moments of each other. There was no real audience, but he still gave it everything he had.
The tall bassist looked down at his feet as he played, long, stick-straight dark hair falling over both shoulders. His lean body was made even leaner by his perfectly tailored suit. The stark white of his collared shirt made his pale skin look tanned in comparison. His body jerked violently to the beat, skinny tie trying desperately to fly free of the silver tie clip holding it down. His high cheekbones and angular jaw would have been called pretty on a girl, but his furrowed eyebrows and thin lips transformed his face into an aggressive sort of elegance.
The drummer was mostly hidden behind his large drum set, but I could see his thick eyebrows were drawn together in concentration as he beat the drums, the motion fluid yet manic at the same time. His plain white t-shirt molded to his burly frame, the short sleeves showing off his massively muscled upper arms. With his strong physique combined with a military-short hairstyle and square jaw, he seemed more suited to being a Navy SEAL or an MMA fighter instead of a drummer in a rock band.
Bad & Bold - A 7 Book Bad Boy Romance Collection! Page 27