So after doing The Wretched, I decided to carry on with their story. Somewhat. And instead of writing short story serials again, I decided on 3 books to talk about the new guitarist of The Wretched. Hirah appears in the The Wretched Tales series towards the end, but her books are more romance. She’s kicking ass and taking names, trying to be the best metal guitarist in the world. However, some things might stand in the way of her quest. Find out what and you can read both books Free on Kindle Unlimited or $0.99 if you buy them.

Hirah 1

Hirah 2

Here is the blurb for book one and an excerpt

Blurb: If you want somethin’ real bad, you gotta work harder than everyone else.
My grandma was right about that. I did want to be the best damn guitarist. Not the best female guitarist or the best black female guitarist. The best fucking guitarist on the planet. Although Sarge and Diabolical Plan had given me the initial opportunity to show off my chops, I couldn’t be what I wanted to be with my ex-boyfriend steering the ship. I had to be the captain of my destiny. I had to be the one taking the lead.

Five months into it and I’m still pinching myself over this. Me, the little black goth girl from Milwaukee, along with Corey, Bryan Taylor, Nicolai Zander and the new guy on bass named Chad Stephenson.

Have I mentioned that Chad is hot as hell?

More about that later.

This is a spinoff of The Wretched Tales with new guitarist Hirah Blaze. She’s kicking ass and taking names, looking to become the metal world’s newest guitar goddess, but will she get sidetracked by The Wretched’s gorgeous new bass player?

* * * *

EXCERPT

With Jimi Hendrix blasting in my ears, I peered out the window of the black Mercedes limousine, watching the tall buildings go by. For a small-town girl like me, these things were a rarity. Sure, Milwaukee had a few skyscrapers, but nothing like downtown Los Angeles, where the smog was thick and the hot bodies were aplenty. Truthfully, I liked the latter a lot better. That was one thing I missed about living in the Midwest. There was no heavy smog unless I went to Chicago. Clean air is good for the lungs and the soul.

Despite this, I was happy as hell to be here in Los Angeles to further my new career with The Wretched. I had just rented a new apartment, not too far from Corey and his boyfriend, Spescha.

When I told my grandma, she was proud I’d achieved so much in a short amount of time, doing what I loved. I reminded her of what she’d told me, and then added that there was some luck involved. Of course, I didn’t get here just based on my looks or even my stellar axe work. If I hadn’t met Renee, Nicolai and Corey, it might’ve taken me a lot longer to achieve some success. There was much more to do, but this chance was a huge stepping stone.

“Hirah, hey, we’re almost there.”

Chad’s country twang disturbed me from my thoughts and I shook my head to get me out of the fog. Chad and I were on our way to a radio interview, another rare thing to do these days. It was a dream to talk with a top personality about the band. Nicolai and Corey agreed that since we were the newbies, we needed to learn how to handle the press.

In all honesty, I believed it was their feeble attempt to push us together. Why those two decided to play metal matchmaker was anyone’s guess. Okay, so maybe a quick-and-dirty roll in a limo wouldn’t be a bad thing, but I really needed to stay focused. And even though we knew a little about each other, I wasn’t sure if Chad would be cool with me liking men and women.

Sometimes together.

For all I knew, he might turn out like my ex-boyfriend Sarge, who wasn’t into bisexuality. I never quite got that, since he liked to wear pantyhose and makeup every so often. Another reason why they say you can’t tell a book by its cover. Outside of that little peccadillo, Sarge was so damn hetero, he didn’t even want other chicks in bed with us. Go figure. I thought that was every red-blooded straight guy’s ultimate fantasy. Unfortunately, he also wanted that “C” thing and I loved my freedom too much. As I’ve said, relationships in bands do not work.

Okay, Fleetwood Mac notwithstanding.

I mean, there were so many hot people out there, especially in L.A. Fanboys and girls had been throwing game my way, and I couldn’t help but take notice. When I let the world know I was bi in an interview with Kick Ass e-zine, most of my fan emails included phone numbers and pictures, as well as offers to join them and their significant others. I relished all of the attention and at some point I might partake, but for now I still had so much to process and having anything more than little flings in my life would be a distraction.

Preparing to go, I turned off my iPod and pulled the plugs out of my ears. I glanced at my fellow bandmate and flashed him a wide smile. “You know you’re doing most of the talking, right?”

Chad swiped his pierced tongue over his top lip and grinned in response. His nose ring gleamed from sunlight shining through the roof of the car. Chad removed his Ray-Bans, revealing his beautiful light blue eyes. He raked his fingers through long blondish brown locks with a hint of purple on the ends. “I am? Why, when you got such a beautiful voice that everyone wants to hear.”

Jesus Christ, that voice!

What did I say about not getting involved with a bandmate?