ROCK FEVER
By
Theresa Hodge
*************
COPYRIGHT
Copyright © 2018 Theresa Hodge
THERESA HODGE
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Any unauthorized reprint or use of the material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage without express permission by the author. This is an original work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental. Contains explicit language & adult themes suitable for ages 18+. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author/publisher.
Dedication
To my family and all of my readers.
Love,
Theresa Hodge
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CHAPTER ONE
KIRA
I woke up this morning feeling ecstatic. The shrill cry of my alarm had interrupted the beautiful dream I was having, I am a little upset that I woke up from such a great dream. I dreamt of having dinner with Queen Bey—that’s so freaking awesome. There was just something different about this Monday. By the way, I hated Mondays!
The gentle breeze strolled into my room unguarded, uninvited. I still welcome it, though. I watch as my saffron drapes dance to the rhythm of the whistling wind. A yellow streak of bright sunlight penetrates my windows and gives me a glimpse of what today would look like.
Phew! I’ve got a lot of work waiting for me at the office. That’s enough to kill my joy, but I refused to let work get into this special moment I was having with nature and its elements.
Whenever I wake up, I do as usual. I get my earpiece on and listen to some cool songs; then I drink a glass of water and cucumber juice to clean my system before hitting the streets in my jogging pants and sneakers.
I jogged every day, and I loved the results that I gained from working out. A lot of people told me I had a beautiful body; some were nice about it while some tried to suggest that I had gone under the knife.
Seriously? Not everyone loves to get knocked out!
I was comfortable with my body. Even now, as I stand fully nude under the dim light of my fluorescent bulb, I fall in love with it all over again. Imperfections and all.
“Kira Martin, get with the regimen. That cake you ate last night will go straight to your thighs if you don’t.”
I smiled as I stared at my reflection. I felt a little proud of myself as I realized two years had passed since I had started working at the Daybreak Journal, where I functioned as both reporter and writer. It had also been two years since I started exercising to take better care of myself.
I loved how my dark-brown eyes glowed; I loved how flawless and smooth my skin was, a mocha shade—like brown sugar. Okay, I wished I were taller sometimes, even though I am still okay with my height.
My phone beeped one time, and I rushed to the bed. That was my clock reminding me of my jogging time. I moved straight to my closet and opened it. I took out red sports pants and a dark-blue tee-shirt.
“Got to run, baby, to keep in shape.” I took a deep breath, grabbed my phone, and inserted the earpiece. I was ready for the run!
I lived in a two-bedroom apartment, which I could afford because I had just gotten a promotion from my boss. It was nothing fancy but it was mine. I stepped out of my bedroom and sauntered through the little living room until I reached the door.
My phone beeped once again.
“What now?” I decided to check it. The sound was not the alarm this time.
It was a message. I clicked open the message box and scanned through it; it was work related. Penny Crisp had just texted me to come to the office, ASAP.
I inhaled deeply and decided to focus on my run which would last approximately thirty minutes. I set my time and launched myself into the quiet street.
I reveled in the feeling of the wind caressing softly against my face. I liked the way my Nike-covered feet touched the ground. I smiled at some familiar faces who I had gotten used to after spending almost three years in Rainbow City, Florida.
“Hey, Kira! How’s it going?” One of my neighbors waved at me.
“Everything’s going fine, Jeff.” I waved back and continued running.
I thought of my boss, Penny Crisp. She was a stern woman who was very serious with her work. She wore horn-rimmed prescription glasses, which gave her oval face a nerdy and sophisticated look.
Penny believed in me. She trusted me to handle some critical projects at the office. I did a mental check to be sure I had not done anything to piss her off.
Nah, I am okay. I was clear. I guessed my boss had a new assignment for me, so I pushed worry from my mind and finished my run.
My early morning exercise came to an end the moment my phone alarm buzzed. I needed to get ready for work. A shower was first and then to get dressed.
“Mondays.” I gritted my teeth and raced back home.
***
An hour later
I was fully dressed. I wore a bright yellow dress which complemented my brown complexion and a pair of black heels. I carried my favorite handbag, which I had ordered from eBay, by the way. It was a nude color, and it matched with almost anything.
My hair was fully wrapped into a bun, which gave my face a girl-next-door kind of look. My full lips look soft with a mauve lipstick that I had ordered online. I felt confident in my choice of dress and the way the clothes draped against my body.
“Where are you off to, miss?” A young driver pulled over after I’d hailed the cab.
“I need to go to Daybreak Publishing, on Freya Street,” I said to the guy who I had a feeling was trying to flirt with me, but I ignored him anyway.
My attention was on my phone the whole time. As a journalist, I had to be aware of everything that was happening both on social media and the real world.
“This is bad,” I muttered then bit my lip. There was another bombing in Afghanistan, and a mother and her five children had just been murdered all at once.
I felt nauseous as I stared at the graphic picture. I loved the column I wrote: Celebrity Gossip. I didn’t have the stomach to write about politics and the awful things that followed it.
An incoming call tore my focus from the article. Someone was calling now, but I became relaxed knowing it was not my boss this time.
“Hello?” I decided to take the call the moment we got into a traffic jam. Why not waste away time talking to a to a telemarketer, I suppose? I chuckled.
“Good morning, am I speaking with Miss Kira Martin from Rainbow City?”
Who is this? I stared at the strange number because I hardly took calls from numbers that had not been programmed into my phone. Well, today was a beautiful day, and on days like this, I threw caution to the wind.
I was hesitant to reply at first. “Yes, this is she. Who am I speaking with?”
“My name is Crow Master, and I am calling from ABC radio station. You participated in an online contest which you emerged the first-place winner. You have won two tickets and backstage passes to the next concert of the Trash Monkeys!”
My heart stopped. Was I hallucinating or someth
ing?
“Wait, are you Crow Master, like Crow Master the celebrity disc jockey host?”
There was only one Crow Master that I knew, and he was one of the best hosts from my favorite radio station. There was something about Crow Master; he exuded this confidence when talking to people. He had a deep, rolling voice which dripped like honey in my ears and had the faint hint of an Irish accent.
I bubbled with excitement and waited eagerly for his response.
“You are correct. I am the one and only,” Crow Master replied in a jovial tone.
My ears tingled, and my smile grew wide as my insides bubbled over with excitement. “You mean I am going to see the Trash Monkeys? Are you kidding me?”
I am more elated by the minute.
The Trash Monkeys were the latest rock band gone platinum as stated in the US Musical Journal. Though up-and-coming, they had produced a hit that had shaken the whole country. They were popular, and I was a big fan.
“Can you tune in now?” Crow Master asked politely.
“Sure. I would be happy to.” I nodded and quickly tuned in to the ABC radio station. I had the app already downloaded on my cell phone.
“Okay, I just finished speaking with Kira, our winner for the month. Do you have anything to say to us, Kira?”
I licked my lips nervously. “I don’t know what to say, Crow Master, I am just overwhelmed that this came through for me. Thank you, everyone, at ABC Radio!”
I was super excited about the Trash Monkeys. This was the first time I’d won a contest of this kind. I got to meet Blade Benefield live and in person. Oh my God, my mind cried out in delight.
Once I finished speaking, Crow Master said a few words and rounded off the show with Illicit, the hit song from the Trash Monkeys.
The harmonious mix of guitars, drums, and musical voices melted my heart. I couldn’t hold myself back from singing along.
“This feeling ain’t right. We’re fire and Ice. But I chose to cling…roses and thorns. Baby, I decided to cling…even when I know it’s fucking illicit!”
CHAPTER TWO
DAYBREAK JOURNAL
“Call for me, honey, if you need another ride. My name is—”
“You can keep the change!” I cut off the cab driver and waved before rushing into the enormous chrome glass structure, which was my workplace.
Winning the tickets was terrific! A thrilling rush coursed through my body as I hurried into the elevator. Usually, I had to stay quiet when there were a lot of people inside, but today I couldn’t stop humming to the tune of Illicit surfing through my head.
In the beginning, I was not a big fan of Rock ‘n’ Roll. I was a Rhythm and Blues girl, but listening to Illicit the first time at a party made me think twice. Trash Monkeys was the first rock band that I liked after The Fantasy Makers. Rick DuPoint, the five-member bandleader, was everything a girl’s wet dream was made of. Blade Benefield of the Trash Monkeys is still my seduction of choice, I mused to myself.
I rushed out of the elevator into the large office which was for the Celebrity Gossip and relationship writers. Offices were allocated to writers based on the genre they were working on.
I dropped my handbag on my desk and steadied a shaky hand over my chest. I gave myself a little pep talk. This job is a blessing, it is great to work in a friendly environment, and I need to remain positive and stay calm.
“Are you okay, Kira?”
Edel’s familiar jasmine scent wafted through my nostrils. She was my friend at work and outside work, and I valued her friendship. Edel Smith was from Germany, and she spoke with a thick accent. She had icy-blue eyes and painfully thin lips.
“And good morning to you. I’m fantastic!” I grinned.
She scoffed, “Come off it, you look—” she paused.
I could tell she was searching for the right words to say.
“Excited,” she supplied.
“Really? Is it that obvious?” I giggled.
“Yes. Are you?” Edel shook her head.
“What?” God knows what she was thinking.
“Are you getting married, Kira? Or did you have hot sex?”
“Hell no! I don’t even have a boyfriend! You know that already, Edel.” I cringed as all eyes in the office turned towards me. The only hot sex I had was with my trusty vibrator, but I kept that thought to myself. “Okay, I don’t have a man in my life. That’s not such a big deal people!” I clapped back at them.
Edel laughed at the way our coworkers kept throwing us curious looks around the newsroom.
“I never knew you were single, Kira. I could introduce you to one of my homies.” Tom, another coworker, and friend joined the conversation.
“Seriously, Tom?” I rolled my eyes.
Thomas Banks was his real name, but we preferred calling him Tom. He was kind of on the chubby side, a comic book addict, and he reminded me of a cartoon character. He wore maroon sweaters most of the time. He had curly blond hair and a beaky nose.
He wasn’t much of a cutie, but I loved talking to him. He was mature and tolerant of other people.
Tom, Edel, and I had formed a clique of our own in the office.
“So, tell us why you look so happy?” Edel drummed her fingers on my desk.
“She must have had sex last night or this morning.” Tom grunted. “Because I get that same look when I score with a lucky lady.” He chuckled.
“Tom! Come on. That’s too much info.” I threw my hands in the air, snorting in the process.
I loved being with these two people. They always made me laugh.
“Okay, guys, I won two tickets to see the Trash Monkeys in New York City. I am thinking of going with someone…” I winked.
Then the argument started.
Tom was the first to speak. “I love the Trash Monkeys. I adore them, especially Blade,” he said in a sarcastic tone. “You should take me,” Tom added.
“No, you don’t, Tom. You have a thing against Blade Benefield. He is so handsome and sexy, but you feel he is a terrible singer. He is the lead singer, for crap sake!” Edel bashed Tom.
My ears tingled as I watched these two. They always argued about everything.
“You know what, guys? We are going to play a little game.”
“What game is that?” Edel asked.
“I’ll ask you both some questions about the Trash Monkeys. Whoever gets the highest score can come with me to New York.” This little game was the only way to stop them from arguing.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Tom grinned.
I knew he wasn’t so deep into the rock band, and he’d only been pulling Edel’s leg.
My friend, Edel, and I burst out laughing realizing Tom was not comfortable with the questions I planned to ask.
I was about to say something when I felt the landline on my desk vibrate.
“Penny,” I muttered, my heart pounding fast.
“Are you in the office, Kira?”
“Yes. Good morning,” I replied.
“Morning. Come into my office now. Thanks,” she responded and disconnected the call.
“I wonder what Penny wants this early in the morning?” Edel asked.
“Your guess is as good as my own,” I responded and dropped the telephone into its cradle and jumped to my feet. “I better go see what the boss wants. I’ll meet you two later.” I walked out and took the elevator up to office Penny’s office.
I had great admiration for the woman. She was the owner of Daybreak Journal, one of the most informative reads in the state. She was ambitious and serious-minded—I admired that part of her personality.
“You needed to see me, Penny?” I treaded nervously into her office.
“Geez, can you just relax for once, Kira?” Penny snapped at me.
I wondered if she could tell I was tense.
“You can’t blame me for being nervous,” I replied and settled into a chair across from her big mahogany desk.
“Take a chill pill, honey.” She laughed.
“I need you to work your magic. We’ve been out in the cold for some months, and a new journal is rising. Ever heard of Pickets Daily?”
I had come across the name. “Yes, why?”
“It’s the newest journal in town. People are buying into their stories, their point of views, and that’s not good for Daybreak. We’ve worked too hard. We’ve dominated the writing scene for ten years now. I need you to bring me a hit story, something like the Britneyvolt.”
I swallowed as I remembered the article that had brought my writing into the limelight and ushered in my promotion.
I had written something on Britney Spears and how difficult it was for her to adjust to her divorce and weakening career. I made it clear to the media that she had shaved her hair out of frustration and not because she wanted to trend. Hence, they needed to respect that, and respect her.
I had titled the article Britneyvolt. It had gone viral in a few hours.
“It’s not that easy…” I stuttered. What she was asking was not that simple. Writers had their moments; maybe that was all that I would ever be.
“I don’t care. Just get me a big cover story. Something with a pop and crack.” Penny chuckled.
From her tone, I knew our conversation was over.
“Wow,” I murmured.
“What is it?” Penny asked, giving me a curious look.
I just had a great idea! What if I turned my upcoming concert trip into a business trip? Okay, I could find a way to get a big story out of the Trash Monkeys rock band, something that would go viral.
This assignment would also give me a good chance at getting me extra traveling money plus get compensated for my work. Maybe even a bonus! My mind was running a zillion miles a minute.
CHAPTER THREE
A DAY AFTER…
Penny thought my idea was great after I’d pitched it to her. Well, most of it, but I didn’t gripe. I was already packed for my trip, but a little something came up. Penny had said no to comping the money for new clothes because it was a work trip, and I was not able to make use of the second ticket. So I had sold it on eBay for a bit of extra money which I would use for incidentals. Penny did pay for my round-trip flight to New York, but she said the company couldn’t afford for me to fly first-class.
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