Stricken Unveiled
Book Two
S.K Logsdon
Copyright © 2013 by S.K Logsdon
All rights reserved. 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 and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.
Editor: Heather Sowalla, Windy Hills Editing
Cover art by: Marika Kraukle
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Acknowledgements
I wanted to give a special shout out to authors Samantha Towle and Michelle A. Valentine. Who inspired me to write this series.
And thank my friend Goldie who has been full of inspiration and encouragement throughout my writing endeavors.
If it wasn’t for her “The Raunchier the better” theory I might not have written these stories as colorful as they have become.
I also want to give an Extra shout out to my fans for enjoying this series and hope they love this as much as the first
This book is a work of fiction created by the author S.K Logsdon and is not associated with any real band, lives or stories.
Other works by Author
Stricken Desire - Book One - Stricken Rock Series
Of Delicate Mind – Book One - The Circle of blood series
Coming Soon
Stricken Trust – Book Three- Stricken Rock Series
Artful Attractions - Book One - Attraction Series
You can find me on Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/sklogsdon
My website: http://sklogsdon.weebly.com
And
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/sklogsdon
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five.
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty One
Chapter Thirty Two
Stricken Trust Sample
Chapter One
Today is September Friday the thirteenth and I’m exactly one day out from entering my second trimester. Stacy and I are also on our way to my first baby doctor’s appointment here in LA. The past six weeks have been crazy. A high-flying ninety mile an hour roller coaster ride with no stops, breaks or detours. After Stacy and I said our goodbyes to Johnathan at the rehab clinic. Or what I like to call it; a five-star resort with doctors and a twenty four hour suicide watch. We’ve been running full throttle since.
Two days after we were back in LA and I got a couple good night’s rest. I put in a call to Joe my roommate in New York to inform him I was backing out of our lease and moving to LA permanently. After a three-hour conversation with Stacy on the ins and outs of what is going to happen with my career and my personal life and the two twins that have taken up residency in my womb for the next twenty eight weeks or less. We’ve both come to the conclusion that LA is the best place for me and surprisingly enough my mom is thrilled and excited to visit soon. She’s never flown before so that’ll be a first for her.
I hired an expensive yet efficient packing crew to box up my apartment in New York and ship my personal belongings out to me. I couldn’t fit the time in my schedule to fly to New York to pack and move, take care of the Johnathan business, help Stacy run a company and clean up the tour mess. All on top of being pregnant which means, I want to basically eat all the time, pee constantly, sleep ten hours a day or more and masturbate like my life depended on it. I’ve literally had to invest in a B.O.B for the first time in my life, he’s petite and pink and ribbed for my pleasure. Plus in the past six weeks I’ve had to replace his batteries twice. If that gives you any indication on how insatiable being knocked up makes you. Or at least me that is.
Stacy god love him has been supportive through it all. He even made this appointment with the best female obstetrician in Malibu, Dr. Golds. After the huge mishaps with Dr. Shells back home, you know the whole I have a five-percent chance of pregnancy thing. I figured googling my new doctor would probably be the best choice. She comes highly recommended and Stacy had to pull a lot of strings to get me into see her. Of course without breaking the news that the babies in my belly are the product of me and a rock star by the name of Johnathan Striker. Who just so happens to be the lead singer of Stricken, the hottest band around and worth about three hundred and fifty million. Give or take a few.
The little buns in my oven are now just about the size of a passion fruit each. And I am already starting to gain weight and resort to baggy clothes. Not that my belly is huge but you can tell that I’m either gaining too much weight in my belly region or I’m having a child or two. Mine just happens to be the latter and my jeans only fit if they are super low or I leave them unbuttoned, which is some backwoods hillbilly bullshit. So me and yoga pants have become acquainted rather well the past few weeks. Until I finally break down and go to Motherhood or some other maternity dress shop to pick out pants with panels and shirts that will make me look like a hot air balloon. I’ve resorted to dresses and yoga pants and only one pair of jeans that I don’t feel like I’m squishing my babies in.
I’ve also taken up residency for the time being in one of Stacy’s guest bedrooms. He lives in a cute house. Nothing over the top or fancy. It’s a modern single story with three beds, two baths; a one-car garage and a fabulous eat in kitchen with all the latest and greatest gadgets. It’s like my own personal kind of heaven, when I get to use all the shiny stainless steel appliances and trash compactor. His range is separate from his double oven and the temperatures are right on the money. I’ve insisted I pay some rent but he refuses to take my cash so I just pitch in with the essentials and cook for him a lot. I want to get my own apartment but with my salary at what it is I can’t afford much in LA unless I want to be slumming it. Which I don’t. So until I find another job or get a promotion, which I don’t see happening anytime soon, I’m stuck bunking with the best man in my life. My bestie Stacy. Who I am sure would love to keep me living with him for the next thirty years. Or so he’s told me on an occasion or two or ten or twenty. I can’t be sure which.
I’m sitting next to Stacy in his SUV and we
’re about fifteen minutes out from my docs. Or that’s what his built in GPS keeps reiterating, making me want to stab it with a knife to keep its damn trap shut. Stace drives a black Range Rover and since I’ve been in New York for so long I don’t have a car except for the Suburban back home and that thing would never pass a smog check. In order to register and drive any vehicle in the state of California it has to pass a smog test, it doesn’t cost much but if your car or truck doesn’t pass you’re up shit creek without a paddle my friend.
To be honest I don’t know what I would do without this man. Between my new life changes like moving, babies and whatnot, he’s been so supportive and loving and I feel truly blessed to have him in my life. We’ve spent countless hours hashing over workloads of crap together with the rest of the Magic Records team who only consists of six other individuals not including Johnathan who owns the damn label.
Jasmine, whom I’ve come to hate, does the financials and records and she’s a snooty blonde bitch who’s in her early thirties. But thinks because she happens to work for Johnathan and what I’ve gathered fucked him a few times, she has this holier-than-thou persona. And whenever I talk to her or see her I want to smack her around a bit and tell her to wake the fuck up and smell the goddamn coffee. But I don’t, I bite my tongue and I force Stacy to deal with her because I’d rather gouge my eyes out then hear her talk for more than five minutes at a time. Then we have Rita a short little Spanish woman who does scouting and works the sound booths, mixes music and a whole lot more. She’s talented and a true asset to Johnathan’s record label. Plus I like her. She’s not my favorite person but she’s sweet and sassy kind of like me. Except she’s forty, sleeved in tattoos, has more piercings than I care to count and three beautiful kids all grown and out of the house, or nearly out I should say. Her youngest is sixteen.
Since Johnathan’s been in rehab we’ve extended his stay an extra two weeks and he’ll be out on Monday and we have our first gig on the last part of this tour on Wednesday next week in San Fran and on that next Saturday we’ll be in Bakersfield, then LA and down to San Diego for the final show. Stacy booked it that way because the final gig is taking place in Coronado on the beach. There’s enough space to hold thirty thousand fans and ten thousand of them are all military members Navy and Marines alike who we’ve donated tickets to. A tribute to the service they provide for our country. I thought the sentiment was fantastic. I’m so glad I thought of it four weeks ago.
Originally we were going to be playing in the Charger Stadium down in San Diego but after a long talk with Stacy and a bunch of finagling on my part with the zoning laws. We got the go ahead and proper permits to throw a huge bash on the sands in So-cal. There are fifteen different high profile venders that are coming to cater the event to provide beer, wine, food and souvenirs thanks to Claire’s masterful skills. My thought is if you’re going to go out, you might as well go out with a bang. This is going to be the hottest fucking bash San Diego’s ever seen. Ending with a fantastic fireworks display over the ocean. We’ve had to hire four hundred security guards and a bunch of barricades, port-a-pots and other things you’d never have to purchase if you used a venue. But we can write it all off tax wise because most of the money earned for this show is being put back into it, so we can put on the best show ever for the men and women in uniform. Something near and dear to my bodyguard James’s heart, being a former marine himself.
Overall the past six weeks has kicked my ass in ways I didn’t think possible. But at the same time I’ve loved it. Kicking ass and taking names gives you a real buzz, of the legal variety. Being Johnathan’s power of attorney for his short stint in rehab has taken up hours upon hours of my time because not only do I get to receive his thirty minute phone call once a week which consists me mainly doing a business run down with him and two medical updates from his docs. They say he’s right on track and that by the time his six weeks is up he’ll be good to go.
I also have to manage his personal assets. James has helped out a lot with those and so has Stacy. But since Johnathan decided it was his job to pay his bills personally and not have bitch head Jasmine or Stacy do it. I’ve taken over and learned a lot along the way. For instance he has a dog. Who knew that? Not me. And when he’s on tour Molly his blue pit bull spends her time in an upscale doggy hotel. Which he pays two thousand dollars a week to board her in. For two grand a week that dog better be getting massages and fed caviar by the spoonful. I’ve also had to pay his maid that comes to his house once a week when he’s gone and three times a week when he’s home. And his gardener, his pool cleaning crew and James. Who by the way gets paid six times more than I do a year, plus a car and a house to live in for free. I’m seriously working in the wrong profession.
Chapter Two
“You ready?” Stace asks, lovingly squeezing my thigh.
We’ve finally arrived at the Clairemount women’s center. It’s about thirty miles from Stacy’s house. I’m about to see a new Obgyn for the first time since I started going to a lady parts doctor eight years ago. I’m kind of nervous but I know I’ll be okay mainly because I have Stacy by my side. The last time I went to the docs I found out I was pregnant with the twins and I’m excited to see them again today. They might have legs and I might be able to hear a heartbeat. I can only hope. Fingers crossed.
“Yeah I guess I need to get this over with.” I sigh.
We get out of the car and Stacy grabs my hand folding his fingers into mine. He’s so sweet!
An elevator and two glass doors later we are sitting in my new doctor’s office. This one is so much nicer than the one back home. A receptionist handed us both glasses of fresh spring water with a mint leaf when we signed in. Now this is what I call living the high life. I know lots of celebrities go to this center. I can now see why.
“Miss Bronwyn. The doctor will see you now.” A nurse in all white scrubs says, both Stacy and I get up and make our way back to an examine room.
Holy cow! This place is nice. Mable floors are in this damn examining room. Not plastic or linoleum. Real marble. The walls are a soothing pale mint green. Gender neutral, I wonder if that’s on purpose. Stacy is sitting across from me on a leather arm chair and I’ve got my butt fully clothed propped up on this table. The nurse who introduced herself as Shelby just took my vitals and weighed me on the in room scale before she left. How cool is that?
A knock. “Can I come in?” I hear an elegant voice inquire from outside the door.
“Yes.”
In strolls a delicate woman with high cheek bones, tall lean frame almost like a stick figure, long slender fingers perfectly manicured, her hair is a pale blonde and up in a chignon off her neck. She’s beautiful and classy in a Victorian kind of way.
“Hello Miss Bronwyn I’m Doctor Gold. But please call me Trisha.” She says sweetly extending her bony hand. I can’t imagine those fingers delivering babies, they look like they’d break if she lifted anything over ten pounds.
“Hello doctor and please call me Emily.” I reply eloquently, taking her hand into mine and providing her with a quick shake. She respectfully turns to Stacy and repeats the gesture.
Peering down at the tablet in her hand she says, “It looks like a Dr. Shells out of Indiana has sent all of your records already so I won’t need to do much updating to your patient file.”
“I guess that means I don’t have to do a long run down with you on my condition or the fact that I am nearly twelve weeks pregnant with twins.”
“No, but how has that been going for you? Are you experiencing any discomfort other than normal pregnancy woes?”
“I’m been feeling good. Not much vomiting and little nausea. I’m hungry all the time and I pee about twelve times a day.” I say it all with a motherly smile. It’s better than a frown I suppose.
But what I really want to say is: Why in the hell do women get pregnant? If all they are is a walking hormone that cries all the damn time, eats a horse a day, pees gallons and wants to hump every man t
hat walks by. But I’m sure I’d freak her out and that’s not what I’m going for. I do want to keep her as my baby doctor. Subtlety isn’t always my strong suit.
She gives me a throaty laugh as her grey steel eyes crinkle at the edges. “That’s normal. I’m glad this pregnancy is going so smoothly. Most women would love to be as lucky as you in that department, especially women with your condition. You’ve been blessed to have conceived so quickly. I’ve spent years with some patients who have Endometriosis like you, doing IVF treatment one after the other and only thirty percent of the time they conceive. And according to the scans and documents in your charts your body is even worse off than theirs are. It a miracle you’re even pregnant to begin with.” She smiles warmly, her voice soft and soothing, very Zen like.
“I realize that, that’s why I’m doing as much as I can to take care of these two.” I rub my hand over my tiny bump. “I’ve been taking my vitamins and fish oil and I’ve cut out all caffeine except the occasional chocolate bar. I want to give them the best chance to grow and be healthy.”
“That’s good. I’m pleased to hear that. So why don’t I bring in the ultrasound machine? And we get a look at those two little babies and see if we can’t get lucky enough to pick up some heartbeats.”
“Sounds great.” I smile and she ducks out leaving us to wait.
I’m so excited. I get to see my babies and Stacy is here with me! I could almost do a little dance. But I won’t.
“She seems really nice Stace I’m so glad you picked her to be my new doctor.”
Stricken Unveiled (Stricken Rock #2) Page 1