Current project:
​Billionaire Rockstar Romance

Here's a sneak peak of my soon-to-be-released Billionaire Rockstar Romance: A Buxton Peak Clean Romance.
​
“Ian, how does it feel to be the youngest billionaire rockstar?” Ian cringed away from the reporter’s microphone, wishing he could escape the spotlight for just one day of his life.
“I’d like to focus on the music and not on the money,” Ian said, knowing his effort was futile. Interview questions were inevitable as soon as they stepped onto the red carpet at the Billboard Music Awards. “Besides, it’s Buxton Peak that’s worth over a billion; not me personally.”
When his mentors and parents had prepared contracts for the foundation of the band, they gave him ultimate power and responsibility for all aspects of the business. From the age of sixteen the guys were making more money than their parents. By the time they were nineteen they were millionaires. Now, at the ripe old age of 23 he added another zero to his wealth.
“But you own the band and all its net worth,” the reporter said. “Therefore, Ian Taylor is the billionaire. Isn’t that true?” More flashing lights, more microphones shoved in his face.
They had him right where they wanted him. He couldn’t risk looking anything less than cool and collected with so many eyes on him. He shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced out to the crowd, trying to meet the gazes of as many people as possible. “I wouldn’t have gotten this far without my mates. Buxton Peak is a rock band, not a solo act.”
“We’re super stoked you’re here,” the reporter continued. “You sold out your world tour in less than a day, and your most recent album skyrocketed to number one, pulling your first two albums back to the top.”
Although the reporter addressed Ian and the band members, he angled his body to the camera, as if his real target was the viewers and the ratings. Ian fought the urge to roll his eyes.
“All that combined pushed you over the threshold and into the billionaire bracket. That has to mean something.” The camera was zoomed out far enough to capture the whole band but it was obviously aimed at Ian.
“Well, if that’s the case,” Ian cleared his throat, “I’ll only be rich for about two minutes until I pay all the venues and employees involved in launching that big of a production. We’re a team.”
“You just flew in from the UK and you’re starting your North American tour in Seattle on Saturday, right?” The reporter didn’t wait for Ian to answer. “So we’re just a stop on your layover, right?”
“I think it’s a little more than that,” Kai Burton piped in. As the lead guitar for the band, Kai wasn’t one to stay in Ian’s shadow for long. “Being nominated for Album of the Year is quite an honor, mate.”
Andy Smith, bassist for the band, stood to Kai’s left, grinning like a kid along for the ride. Buxton Peak’s drummer, Gary Owens, leaned closer to Ian, his usual sullen expression and dark sunglasses hiding his aversion to interviews and likely bloodshot eyes.
“That it is,” the reporter agreed. “So what can the fans expect with your tour? Will this be a playlist of the songs from all three albums? Or are you writing new music?”
“I’m always writing new music.” Ian stepped back a little so he was tucked in among the guys rather than out front. “The songs just come from inside of me, and these guys bring them to life.”
“Well, the fans sure love your music.” The reporter and cameraman shifted to accommodate Ian’s change in stance. “What advice can you give to up-and-coming rock stars who want to emulate your success?”
“Be born with as much natural talent as I have,” Ian mumbled, feeling cocky from all the praise.
“Like that would ever happen.” Kai reached over and gave Ian a fist bump.
Several nearby reporters chuckled at Ian’s tongue-in-cheek jest, probably realizing it wasn’t far from the truth. Ian’s talent was the reason Buxton Peak succeeded as much as it did, and he knew it.
“The best advice I can give young musicians is to work hard and play music every day, even if their audience consists of their mum and dad.” Ian smirked at the crowd. “Our audience tonight is a little larger than that, so we’re going to head inside and get ready for our performance. Let’s rock.”
Andy, Gary, and Kai echoed an emphatic, “Let’s rock.”
They held still for a few more flashing cameras, then waved to the crowd as they continued down the red carpet and into the building.
* * * * *
Ian straightened his tie and smoothed his crisp, white shirt. The mirror in the tiny bathroom finally cleared of condensation enough so he could fix his hair.
There was a knock at the door and Kai’s gruff voice interrupted Ian’s inner-contemplation. “You almost done in there, preacher-boy? This motorhome only has one loo, you know.”
Ian opened the door to find Kai leaning his head against the wall with hooded eyes and wearing yesterday’s rumpled clothes. Weeks of touring had taken their toll and the guys partied late into the night. “Feeling alright this fine, Sunday morning, Kai?”
“I’m fine,” Kai mumbled. “Get out.”
Ian bit his tongue to keep from laughing and slipped down the hall to the kitchenette. The management staff stocked all the guys’ favorite foods in the luxurious home-away-from-home. Unfortunately, half the snacks in the cupboards were lying around on countertops, half eaten next to empty beer bottles.
Ian wrinkled his nose and reached overhead to where he knew the staff hid his favorite English muffins. He popped two halves in the toaster and fumbled in the mini-fridge for some butter and jelly.
Kai stumbled out of the bathroom and flopped himself onto the sofa just as Ian’s bodyguard, Ed, opened the outside door and took the stairs into the motorhome with a spring in his step.
“Yum, you’re making some muffins for me, too, right?” Ed’s cheerful voice was a welcome addition to Ian’s morning. His white shirt and tie, and the suit coat draped over his arm meant Ian didn’t have to go to church by himself.
“I’ll put two more in the toaster when mine are done.” Ian smiled at his bodyguard and turned back to the counter.
“Ed, you're looking dapper this morning,” Kai said, barely lifting his head from where it rested against the back of the sofa.
“Kai, you're looking… hungover.”
“That’s exactly the look I was going for.”
Andy rolled off his bunk and laid there on the floor in the hallway, moaning.
“Did you have a few too many drinks last night Andy?” Ed shook his head and rolled his eyes.
“This bus didn’t stop moving all night long.” Andy’s voice was barely audible.
“Yeah, that’s how we got through the entire Upper Peninsula of Michigan after your show last night.”
“We’re not still in Wisconsin?” Andy raised his head, then moaned and rested it back on the plush carpet.
“I slept just fine,” Kai said.
“That’s because you get to sleep in the back with Ian,” Andy mumbled.
“Ian is very warm and snuggly.” Kai winked and Ian rolled his eyes as he turned back to the toaster.
“Judging from the number of dead soldiers on this countertop, I’m surprised you remember the drive from Green Bay.” Ed picked up one of the empty bottles and lined it up with the others.
“Quit picking on them, Ed.” Ian handed Ed the first plate of English muffins to distract him. “Go sit down and eat. We’re leaving in five minutes.”
“Just think, Andy.” Ed got in one more jeer. “While we’re at church you’ll have several hours of a still motorhome.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s not going to stop me from hurling,” Andy said.
“I’m pretty sure you’re right.” Ian finished buttering his muffin, grabbed a napkin and a juice and nodded his head toward his bodyguard. “Let’s take our breakfast on the road, shall we?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” Ed gathered his food and they hurried down the stairs before anything else ruined their appetites.
* * * * *
“I don't understand why you are still best mates with those guys.” Ed pulled out of the rest area where he and Ian had left the tour busses full of band members and entourage to fend for themselves for a few hours. “Why aren’t you disgusted by their behavior?”
“Who says I’m not?” Ian lowered the vanity mirror and fussed with his hair again. “I love them like brothers and I’ve hung out with them for so long I’m just used to dealing with their antics.”
“I’ve been your bodyguard for over a year now and your relationships still creep me out a little bit.”
“What about our relationships creep you out?” Ian turned in his seat and grinned.
“You and Kai have this weird connection,” Ed said. “I mean I heard about it ahead of time, but now I understand why the guys tease you about being in love with each other.”
“I do love him. Like a brother. He’s my best mate.”
“Except when you tried to beat the crap out of each other…”
“Hey, he had it coming. And I almost landed a punch or two.”
“That’s not what I heard.” Ed smirked. “Kai didn’t have a scratch on him.”
“He’s bigger than I am.” Ian bit his lips to keep from smiling.
“You didn’t have a scratch on you, either. Did you?”
“No,” Ian mumbled as he turned away and watched the pine forest glide past the window. “He didn’t even try to fight back.”
“Because he knows he was wrong.”
“Because he loves me,” Ian challenged.
“If he truly cared about you he’d respect your values and not bring girls up to your hotel suite. I don’t care if you did have separate rooms. That crossed a line.”
“I’m learning to be less judgemental, okay?”
“He’s not a good influence on you.”
“Can we not argue about this? Let’s just go to church and enjoy each other’s company for a couple of hours without the perceived negative influence of my mates.”
“Hmpf.” Ed slowed down as they approached the exit ramp for the city of Houghton Lake, Michigan where they were attending church that week.
The management team did a great job of organizing their concert tours around Ian’s insistence to attend a sacrament meeting somewhere in the world each Sunday. Most of the time they found some obscure location where he and Ed could slip in and out without too much attention. Two young men in suit coats and ties looked more like missionaries than rockstars.
“Aren’t you glad you hired a bodyguard who likes to go to church?” Ed lightened his tone.
“I’d be miserable without you.” Ian appreciated the olive branch and chuckled. “In all seriousness, though. I am really glad I met you when I did.”
“I’m just glad we have more than one tour bus so I don't have to sleep in the same space as your mates.”
“They’re not that bad.”
“What are you going to do when you get married?”
“That would require me to have a girlfriend first,” Ian said. “My girlfriend dumped me a few months ago, remember?”
“She wasn’t right for you anyway.”
“I thought you liked Sasha.”
“When she was a missionary, I liked her.” Ed put on the turn signal when his GPS told him they were a quarter mile from their destination. “Once she got home, she flirted with you too much. It’s my job to protect you from girls like her.”
“At least she wasn’t after me for my money.” Ian sighed. “Girls who are just after my money and fame are the ones you should protect me from.”
“I’m honored to serve at the pleasure of the Crown.”
“Are you coronating me king?”
“If the shoe fits, Mr. Billionaire Rock Star.”
“That’s getting old.” Ian grumbled and looked out the window at the waters of Houghton Lake sparkling in the late-morning sun. “I’m just Ian. I just wanna be loved for who I am on the inside and not because I’m rich, or famous, or a rock star.”
“Good luck with that. You’re going to have to meet a girl who has no idea who you are.”
“I’ll keep my eyes out for her.”
“You’ll know her when you see her.” Ed pulled the small car into the church parking lot and they glanced over at one another.
“This is the meetinghouse?” Ian asked “It’s so old and rundown.”
“This is the correct address.” Ed looked down at the GPS on his phone. “I’m sure someday the church will build a nice big meeting house here, but for right now this is all we’ve got, so we’re going in.”
“It doesn’t look big enough to have a full church in it.”
“Maybe it’s just a really small congregation.”
They slipped in the back door to find about 30 people in the room altogether. There were a few teenagers, one baby squirming in his mum’s lap, a couple of kids in cute little dresses, and one girl with long brown hair who was turned away so they couldn't tell how old she was. Almost everyone else was old enough to be his mum or his nanna.
No one paid them much attention as they slid into the back pew.
Until the girl with the long brown hair turned and caught Ian’s eye.
“Ed,” Ian whispered. “That’s her.”

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ABOUT ME

I’ve written and published seven fiction books, countless newsletters, newspaper articles, book reviews, and a master’s thesis. I mostly write New Adult Clean Contemporary fiction. In the words of Ian Taylor, Let’s rock! -Julie L. Spencer