by Emily Snow
The Stephanie Daniels’ Series
An Author’s Tale – Published
An Author’s Friend, An Author’s Conclusion - TBA
The Darkest Fairy Series
My Fairy Darkness – Published
My Fairy Reckoning, My Fairy Serenity - TBA
Touched by a God Series
Scarlett’s Letter, Hermes’ Boundary – Published
Hunt for Artemis - TBA
Secrets of the Night “Creatures” Series
Night Hunter, Queen Mother, Gran Matier – Published
Dahariel - TBA
The Craft Society of Divination Series
Mama Katerina, Vivienne, Evian (Book IIIa) - Published
Evian & the Family - TBA
Stand Alones:
Life in “E” motion (Poetry), A Dreamer’s Today (Short Stories), Forbidden: A Prince’s Coveted Possession, Redefining Me (Also in audio), A Mother’s Burden, Mr. Black & Mr. White and Reign Again
Lead Me Home – Amanda Lanclos
Lead Me Home Copyright © 2016 Amanda Lanclos
Published by Amanda Lanclos
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.
This book 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 person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
Published: Amanda Lanclos May 30, 2016
Editing: JoAnne Thompson
Cover Design: Silla Webb
Formatting by: Brenda Wright – Formatting Done Wright
This book is intended for a mature audience of eighteen and older.
Chapter One
Listening to the fans screaming, while I stand backstage, is something that never gets old for me. I’d always dreamed of singing in front of thousands of people but, like most people, I never expected to get to where I am today. So hearing the chants of Brant, Brant, Brant over and over, was something that I cherished.
I’d worked hard to get here. I still remember the day my dreams became a reality. I was in that coffee shop in Georgia singing at an open mic night. I’d never expected anything to come out of it, but as I sang the words to what would become my biggest hit to date, it happened. I hadn’t realized a major record producer sat in the same shop, taking in the local talent. Now, six years later here I was.
I’ve since won CMT’s Performer of the Year , Male Video of the Year, and Breakthrough Video of the Year awards. I was even on the cover of People magazine’s 100 sexiest men. I had many women who threw themselves at me, and I took advantage of it.
Peeking out of the wing backstage, I see the crowd. I am glad that I had a good opening act. I had been lucky enough to snag one of the winning contestants from Rising Star and man, did she have some pipes. She also brought in a lot of women to the show, with her mix of pop country and ballads. She was a spunky little thing and if we weren’t so close together on the business side, I’d try to get closer to her on a personal level.
Kassidy comes off the stage, her blonde hair in curls down her back and the dress she’s wearing is covered in sweat. She’s done her job, and everyone is screaming for the main attraction.
“Good luck out there, Brant.” She smiles as she grabs the water bottle I’m holding, gulping it down before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“So ladylike Kass,” I mumble as I slide my baseball cap on, making sure it’s facing the back like my stylist prefers. I shake my head as I grab my microphone. Sliding my earpiece in, I can’t help but smile. The adrenaline is pumping through my veins and I am ready to rock this place. Walking out on the stage and hearing all the screams from the crowd waiting to see my show, never gets old.
“Good evening, Cleveland! Y’all ready to party?” I work the crowd, and notice all the women with their scantily clothed bodies. I tend to lean toward the blondes, but I’m not that picky. If my mother knew how much I ran women, she’d probably beat my ass all the way to Timbuktu. “Well then, let’s go!”
Barrett hits the chords on the keyboard, as Gary kicks in with the bass drum. I grab my guitar after putting my mic on the stand. My first song is always the first one in our set and it seems to be one of the greatest crowd pleasers I’ve ever written. I don’t know what it is about getting dirty in some boots, but it drives the women crazy. Just tell a woman she looks better in a pair of boots and she will scream and holler for you.
For the next hour and a half, the guys and I put on a show that could rival some of the biggest performers. I wouldn’t trade my life for anything and I love having so many people here to listen to me sing. After I finish the last set, I walk off stage.
“Back For More! Back For More!” The crowd is overwhelmingly loud. They, of course, know we are coming back out because I haven’t sung our latest hit, which happens to be Back For More.
“Well fellas,” I turn, looking at the guys. I can see they are all looking back at me with huge smiles on their faces. We’ve been together since the beginning and we will always be. “Let’s give them what they came here for.”
Watching them all walk back on that stage with me is something I will always cherish. I may not be perfect and I may be hard to work with, but they have become the best things in my life. We are a family and it never gets old.
“So, seems like you guys haven’t had your fill of the Brant Marks Band!” I’m thankful for the in-ear monitor, which cancels out everything but my voice, because the screams radiating from this stage would make anyone deaf.
“Well, let’s get on with it, shall we?” I smile as the chords of our latest song come on. It’s a love song that they say will make it to the top. I don’t doubt it will. Women love to be serenaded and as my voice comes out, that’s exactly what happens.
After the song ends, we perform Back For More.: one that isn’t that popular, but I think will be. I end every show with it, because it reminds me of the life I left behind. I sit down on the barstool, and grab the microphone. My guitar is sitting against my back and the coolness of the wood helps center me.
“I remember all of those nights, we’d sit in front of that screen,” I smile as I sing the words to the song that holds several memories of a past that I never want to forget. “Loving every second of time we could sneak.” I continue with the song until the very last word leaves my lips. I’ve become a different person since then, but this song reminds me of who I used to be.
Getting up from the stool, listening to the screams behind me as I walk off the stage is amazing, but knowing that there’s going to be a girl waiting in my bus for me is better. I’m ready for a shower and a night of losing myself in hot sex.
“Hi, Lauren,” I mumble because when I said a hot woman, I surely wasn’t expecting my damn manager to be on my bus waiting for me. I sit down on the table, because it annoys her.
“You’re sweaty. People eat there, asshole.” She looks down on me, and if I hadn’t been assigned to her, I’d probably fire her. She’s got perfectly coiffed hair and not a piece of it is out of place. I wish she’d go jump on Barrett’s dick, because if she would, we’d all be a hell of a lot happier. These two have been playing games with one another for as long as we’ve been together.
“It’s my table. I didn’t say you had to eat at it,” I mumble. “So, what do I owe the pleasure of
your company?” I go a little further to piss her off, sitting in the chair and puting my boot clad feet on the table where my sweaty ass just resided.
“We need you on a plane, first thing in the morning.” She winces a little when my eyebrows rise.
“For?”
“You’re going to Kuwait, for a publicity stunt.”
“I am? Says who?” I grab a beer from the fridge and watch her.
“Roderick.”
“Of course he does. What about the Superfest in Baton Rouge?” I wouldn’t let anyone know this, but I had something up my sleeve and I was praying like hell it would work out.
“You’ll be back in time. They want you to do a concert for the troops over there first. A way to show your compassionate side, to make up for the trajectory with Ansliegh Granger.”
“I keep telling you nothing happened.” And it really didn’t. I wouldn’t touch that woman with a ten foot pole. But, by the way Lauren’s eyes raise, she doesn’t believe me.
“Next you’ll be in one of her songs, breaking her heart and all. You’re supposed to be America’s boy next door. You’re failing Marks.” She sighs as she runs her hand over her head. “Get it together or we both lose our jobs.”
“Lauren, neither of us is losing a damn thing. Except maybe you should talk to Barrett about losing your V card.”
“That is my business, and I’d like you to stay out of it.” She snaps, effectively cutting me off. Well, at least she didn’t deny it.
“Yes ma’am.”
“Seven o’clock sharp. Be ready. Don’t make me come in here and see your naked ass in the bed again.” The lifting of her right eyebrow makes me want to laugh. We may despise each other, but it’s really just a show.
“I’ll start making life easier on you, Lauren.”
“I doubt that. Night Brant,” she shuts the door behind her, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
“Now what am I supposed to do? I’m all wound up and no woman to help me unwind,” I mutter. So, I do the one thing I always do. I grab my laptop, log in and pray that she’s online. But she’s not. I’m beginning to think I’ll never see her again. Shutting the laptop, I do the only thing I know to do. Something I haven’t done in ages, I head to the shower to take matters into my own hand.
Chapter Two
Getting out of the luxury car that met us at the runway of the airport, and looking around this place, should have scared me. The conditions these men and women were living in was beyond anything I’d ever seen. These were men and women who were fighting for my freedom; for me to be able to live my life in the United States of America and not go to bed with fear that I might not have that liberty the next day.
As my agent takes me into the makeshift barracks of a Marine Corps serving here in Afghanistan I can’t help but be in awe. Seeing the dust everywhere, the cots neatly made and the people smiling and acting as if they aren’t affected by their living arrangements, makes me rethink everything.
“Hey! You’re Brant Marks!” My head jerks in the direction of the guy who has just yelled my name. I wave to him as he walks over. “I love your music, man.”
“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I’m here to put on a good show for your service.” Gripping his hand, I pull him into a half hug type thing. “I appreciate every sacrifice you’ve done for my freedom.”
“I’d do it over again. I don’t want my kids growing up in a place they have to worry about. I want them to grow up in the land of the free.” He runs his hand over his short hair. I take him in from his brown boots, his green pants and his khaki shirt open, proudly displaying his dog tags.
“What’s your name?”
“Staff Sergeant Mitchell Stephens,” he salutes as he stands before me. If we were under different circumstances, I could see myself actually being friends with the guy.
“Nice to meet you Staff Sergeant Mitchell Stephens. Tell me, where are you from stateside?”
“Chattanooga, Tennessee. My wife and whole family is there.”
“Your family like country music?”
“Yes sir. Best music there is.”
“Can’t say it isn’t when you sing it for a living,” I chuckle, snapping my fingers for Vince to come up behind me. “This here is Vince, my assistant. Get him your wife’s name and I’ll deliver front row tickets for a show when I’m in the area.”
“Thank you! She’d love that, she’s a huge fan.”
“Well, I’m a fan of her husband’s for the things he does.” I clap his back, making my way further into the tent as I take in my surroundings. I may be here to sing for these people as a way to escape their reality, but for me I want to see what they go through day to day.
At eighteen, I’d planned on joining some branch of the service, but my mother had the biggest meltdown. So instead, I moved to Nashville after a local agent caught my act in a local bar. Now at twenty-seven I had a damn good career and an even better bank account. The only thing I didn’t have was a woman who wasn’t all in it for the money.
Speaking of women, there was a brunette chick sitting at the bar of the makeshift USO they just led me to here on base. After sitting down next to Mitchell, my eye catches the woman again. I can tell by the way her eyes shift that she knows exactly who I am and as much as I something to happen, it can’t. I came here today to show the people who are fighting for my country that I am thankful for the sacrifices that they make for me.
“Brant, this is Sanchez. Sanchez, meet Brant Marks,” Mitchell says as he gestures to the girl at the bar. “She’s one of our snipers.”
“A sniper?” Well, maybe I read her wrong.
“Nice to meet you, Brant. My kid is a big fan of your music back home. His Dad constantly sends me videos of him with a toy guitar, dancing around singing your songs.” She extends a hand to me, which I take instantly and shake. I feel horrible for judging her so quickly.
“Well, if you’ll get me your address back home, I’ll make sure he gets a signed Brant Marks guitar.”
“Really?” The look of shock on her face lets me know that they aren’t used to this kind of treatment from other people. “That would be amazing. His birthday is coming up soon.”
“Of course, why are you so shocked by it?”
“Well, most people that come over here aren’t like you. They do a photo op, put on a small concert and get back on their planes and leave. They don’t stick around to mingle with the lower people.” She gives me a sad smile as she shrugs her shoulders.
“Well, I happen to think of myself as a lower person compared to you all. I wanted to be a Marine, but my mother cried for a week. So, I pursued music instead. Now, I just don’t have a personal life.” She laughs at my statement, but she really doesn’t know what I mean.
“We don’t either,” Mitchell says after chugging his beer. “Why don’t we show you around the barracks and you can see what you’d have experienced had you picked our life instead of the one you’re living.”
“Sounds good to me,” I mutter as I look at the people in the room. There are women sitting at a table with their eyes undressing me. I’ve seen that look several times, but I can’t tell if it’s because my Wranglers are practically painted on my body or if it’s because they want the fantasy of being with me. Either way, neither is really great, but being that I’ve been known to give Luke Bryan a run for his money in those damn jeans of his, I’d say my ass is their focal point.
“Over here is where we shower,” Mitchell points to a building that doesn’t look like it would survive a strong storm. “It isn’t much, but at least we don’t smell like ass every day.” He chuckles at his own joke, before he points at something off in the distance. “That is where the ‘bad guys’ stay. About 100 klicks that way.”
“Klicks?” Now I really feel like an idiot.
“Yeah, sorry. Military talk. It’s about sixty miles away.” Mitchell shrugs, a smile on his face.
“That isn’t that far away from you,” I mutter because well to me
that is intimidating.
“Not really, but it is what it is. You do what you have to do and pray to the good Lord that He will bring you home safe.”
“You really are heroes. Thank you for showing me around the camp. I’m excited to see more of it tomorrow.” I clap him on the back as Gary, my drummer, comes over.
“Hey man, Neal is on the phone wanting to discuss the tour. I told him you were busy but he is throwing a fit.” He looks over at Mitchell with an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Mitchell and I were just saying goodbye. Thanks again,” I grasp his hand before walking off with Gary. Seems like it’s just another day in paradise.
“Dude, did you see all the hot girls around here? Who knew hot chicks joined the Military.”
“We have a job, Gary. Besides, most of these women could put you on your back in a second.”
“Kinda the point, Brant,” he waggles his eyebrows as we walk past a redhead wearing a tank top and shorts, running along the dirt. “She could for sure.”
“Not what I meant,” I say with a laugh. Here he is looking to get laid, while I’m thinking about what all they give up to make sure I have everything I need and want back home.
“Dude, maybe you should get laid. I mean, you’re kind of uptight right now.” He claps my back as we walk back to the car that brought us here. “Maybe those tight ass jeans are cutting your balls off,” he laughs as he opens the door.
“Yeah, or maybe I just realize there is more to life than banging women any time you can,” I mutter as I slide into the vehicle.
“Dude, what’s up with you?”
“Gary, look around you. These people are giving up everything, their homes, time with their family so that we can have freedom to do anything, have everything we want.” I don’t know what I’m doing right now. I’d come here with the intention of doing a show and going back home, but seeing the life they have, has affected me.
“I get it, Brant. But, we can’t change it. They knew what they were getting into when they signed up.” His face morphs into something I can’t really explain, but it’s enough for me to try hard to not punch his mug.