Star struck, p.1
Star Struck, page 1
STAR STRUCK
JOSIE AND THE SENTINELS: BOOK 1
NJ BOYER
Star Struck is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © Natalie Aked 2022
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher. For more information, contact:
Where Lore Meets Tomorrow Press at
www.njboyerwriter.com
First Paperback edition July 2022
First E-book edition July 2022
ISBN: 978-0-6450914-3-4 (paperback)
ISBN: 978-0-6450914-4-1 (ePub)
Cover design by GetCovers.com
Page design and typesetting, through Vellum,
by Natalie Aked, Where Lore Meets Tomorrow Press
CONTENTS
CONTENT WARNING
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Epilogue
38. Who’s Who in Star Struck
About the Author
A Sea of Trees
Twin Suns: Josie and the Sentinels Book 2
For J—
I said I would get your story out there. I hope it’s everything you hoped it would be.
CONTENT WARNING
NJ believes reading should be a safe place. However, the Josie and the Sentinels stories are not safe or comfortable for all readers. NJ has identified the following content warnings:
Moderate Themes, Drug Use, and Violence
* * *
For a more thorough breakdown please see:
Content Warning
One last warning: Magic is real. Spirits exist.
CHAPTER 1
Stage set, I slid down to the ground and wandered through the black-clothed roadies who were rummaging around, cooling their heels until the actual work started.
Blue Wind wouldn’t be on for another hour, and after a few calls of ‘Josie’ and a nod here and there, I roamed the narrow strip of green that cut the concrete-encased earth of the city from the ocean to Haight-Ashbury. In its space, ten stages. It was right for insiders to proclaim this gig the largest dance party in the surrounds for years. Everyone who was anyone on the music scene in San Francisco would be there. It was a chance for the band to rub elbows with other higher profile groups and, hopefully, make connections. As for me, it was a great time to listen to good music and chill. Blue Wind was up first. Not the best placement, but great for an up-and-coming band.
Jazz was deliriously happy. And given the high profile, Jazz didn’t want me around, which suited me fine. My day would see me wander from stage to stage, catching those bands of interest; partying as I wished. Anything was okay if I stayed out of his way. I would need to strike the band’s equipment after their set. That should take about twenty minutes, and then I had the rest of the day. Hey, with free entry and backstage passes, who could pass it up?
As I walked around, I overheard the various conversations. It was the usual twaddle that this type of event came up with. You know, who was doing what to whom, name-dropping, and the ever-present rumor that Cyvan—ooh, ah—was backing the event. I hated to break it to them, but this wasn’t a rave, so Cyvan backing it, was unlikely. Of course, I didn’t know Cyvan from a flea on a hellhound. Well, other than the hellhound being a fictitious, nasty, black-furred, glowing-eyed creature who breathed fire and a flea being a small dark blood-sucking insect... and I was fairly certain that Cyvan was just an entrepreneur (well, from what I had heard).
When the gates opened, people from every walk of life, every age and social group slipped in. I knew there were powerful people here, and picking out some of them was easy. For example, the tall, slender, beautiful people with their trendy clothing just reeked of powerful political and commercial positions. Others, like the golden eyed tanks, were more than likely the genetically manipulated children of the ultra-wealthy. They would hold jobs within the government and military. Top positions for sure, but still public servants.
Others of the powerful in our society were harder to find. My mind wondered. Was it possible that someone like a Sentinel was here? I knew I was being stupid; that Sentinels were only the imagination of the novelists who wrote stories about them. But I had spent many a sunny day dreaming of meeting one. Of going on an adventure with one. Not that I had anything to offer someone in that line of work, but the danger, the excitement ...
... the pain in my shin where this reprobate planted his boot heel.
“Thanks champ,” I said dryly as I rubbed the increasing lump on my leg and looked up at the perpetrator.
“Hey, watch where you’re going, young lady. You never know who you might run into.” Pristine white teeth glinted from within a smile that pulled his immaculately manicured mustache and goatee slightly lopsided. It only added to the charm of his face.
“Yeah, there are dreckheads like you all over.” In my defense, I was out of sorts and in pain.
“Come on, it was an accident. Let me have a look at it. Maybe I should walk you back to your parents?” then he pointed his index fingers up. Each finger was ringed by metal. “Or are you a modern woman? Perhaps I should take you to your boyfriend?” He outstretched his hand in an offer of help.
His bulk suggested that he took fantastic care of himself and would be well-muscled under his long cassock. I could have taken him for a young priest, but there was no insert in the mandarin collar and the glimpses of tight leather pants and polished black boots led me to believe he was more artistic than religious.
“I don’t need your help and I don’t hang with my parents. Haven’t in years. Are yours nearby? They may be looking for you.” My comeback was too fast. I had given too much about myself away and to a perfect stranger.
He smirked. “You know, you’re right. Maybe I’ll run into you later.” And with that, he departed, and it left me with a strange, unsettled feeling.
I hobbled back to Beta Stage and sat down, waiting for Blue Wind to start. My backstage passes hung down between my crossed legs. Spirits. They were out the whole time. No wonder I got the looks I did when walking around. Sometimes I am so unchill.
Blue Wind was astronomical. Jazz held the audience in his hand as he left the stage almost an hour later. Everyone wanted more; including me and I got to hear them every day.
Break down was easy, and the next band was ready to go. I closed the doors on our van and slid into the crowd to listen to Waves Crash, another minor band on the way up. Like Blue Wind, they had a unique sound. I enjoyed listening to the marriage of cultures with the strong Native under-beat. At the end of their set, I jumped up and down screaming ‘encore’ as a chant.
They placated me and the rest of the audience with “Remember”, their only commercially available song. It had a slow drawing musicality, and everyone paired off for some contact. Someone was pressing me from behind, and I swayed with them for the duration of the song. It was a guy, and he wrapped his arms firmly around my mid-section. My back was against his well-formed chest, and I could fill ID passes, crushed between us. He rested his head on mine and I enjoyed a moment of being calm and close to another human being. It was only when the song ended, and the audience erupted in loud chants for more I realized I had just allowed someone I didn’t know to touch me. It was as if Waves Crash had woven magic into the song. Brilliant.
I turned to see, smiling behind me, none other than the boot wearing man from before.
“Right, you again. Are you following me around or what?” I wasn’t even vaguely upset. I thought he was cute, and it was romantic having him dance with me after our last meeting. But my character was to be rebellious. So I spat the words with venom.
“No, do you want me to?” His nearly black eyes captured me and held me.
I wanted to say ‘yes’ but thought it would be best to find the others backstage and see if they needed me. And without so much as an acknowledgment, I turned on my heels and left.
Of course, I knew the others never needed or wanted me around. My hope for excitement was waning. This day was dragging.
Hours later, my phone rang. I was wrong about the band wanting me.
Before I could even speak, Jazz commanded, “Josie, get over here. I need you at Beta.” Actually, what was new there?
“On my way,” I said and hit the disconnect button. The phone rang again.
It was Jazz. His hair mussed and yet again, before I could speak, he jumped in. “Jos, I need you now. Come quick. We are doing a second set. And we will need you to be there.”
A second set? That wasn’t on the schedule. That meant that one of the bigger names backed out or couldn’t make it, and they had asked Blue Wind to take their place.
“I’m coming. I should be there in about two.” Wow.
Jazz handed me my headset mic as he started up the steps to the stage. “Josie, sing ‘Meadow Sun’. It’s your best, and I have sung all of mine.”
“And now here’s Blue Wind with special guest Josie Braveman.” The announcer pointed, Jazz did his 1, 2, 3, and the band started “Meadow Sun”.
For the first time in years, I had butterflies in my stomach. I felt like I would vomit, and my hands were shaking. Special guest? How had I become a special guest? It’s not like anyone knew me at all. Jazz was the up-and-coming star here. I was just his girlfriend’s little sister.
The mellow strains of my song filtered across me with the beat of soft wings behind it. My mouth was dry, but I had the feeling of intoxication.
“Meadow Sun” was like opening a vein and pouring out my soul before me. I had never performed it to such a large audience.
Before long, I was lost in my music and the three songs that followed. Jazz stepped forward, and we sang “Blind”, a song I wrote about people’s inhumanity. Then I stepped back and soon I was sitting behind the stage as a light shower passed over—just enough cool water to clear my mind, and then it was gone.
My clothing damp, I stood up and looked back on stage. Jazz was taking a final bow. I once again climbed the stairs to strike the equipment. I was feeling tired, but the afternoon was still young. It had to be the follow-on from my surprise gig, withdrawal from the adrenaline shock.
It was early enough that the backstage parties hadn’t started yet, but soon would, so the band drove home and changed. We were all looking forward to having a great time drinking and dancing. I was side-tracked with thoughts of running into my dark stranger.
I guess I had that day-dreamy thing going on, because soon my sister Genna, Mary, the groupie, and Gail, the keyboardist of the band, were side by side in front of me.
“Heya kid,” Genna smiled with tight eyes. “So, what’s his name?”
Perplexed, I asked, “What do you mean?”
“The guy you’re dressing up for. What’s his name?” asked Gail.
“I don’t get it. What’s the joke?” I was getting suspicious. Had they set me up to run into the guy? How else could they know I was thinking about him? I wasn’t being paranoid. It was something any of them could do. Teasing the young is a favorite pastime for the mindless.
I looked at myself in the mirror. As always, I dressed in black leather pants, doc martens and tight Blue Wind t-shirt. That alone wouldn’t have made the girls think twice. After all, I went clubbing all the time. It was that my long, jet hair was down. I only did that when I was interested in someone.
I grabbed my jacket (a black leather, tribal number) and scoffed at the girls.
“Hey, just ‘cause I am going out to not come home tonight shouldn’t give you hope of marrying me off anytime soon.” I smiled sweetly and moved past them.
Unfortunately, I still had to get by the boys, and they were much worse than the girls. After the catcalls and whistles, Timmy, our drummer, piped up with, “Hey Gail, watch out. Josie may just take every eligible man at the party.”
“And several ineligible guys as well,” Jazz chimed in. Genna glared at him and his smile faded. Then she glared at me. It had the opposite effect.
“Great. Let’s go. I have to hunt for my bed tonight.” I walked to the door.
I rode my bike back instead of taking the van with everyone else. I was serious that I didn’t want to sleep at home tonight. That didn’t mean that I wanted to have sex with some guy I didn’t know. It just meant that I would sleep somewhere else. And I would need my bike to get back home in the morning. Public transport was not an option, ever.
CHAPTER 2
When we got back, the floodlights were on and the place was jumping to the incredible wail of several bands at once. I could feel the pounding in my body as my heart took on the party rhythm.
I stayed out in the audience for a while, even though the others ventured backstage. If I wanted, I could find them later, and several of my favorite bands were lined up to play. I danced on the grass with all means of men and women. Each seemed intent on getting their hands on me, but hey, I enjoy a good pawing now and again on my terms. This was my night to let it all go. I needed to release stress, and dancing and flirting were some of the best ways to de-stress in my book.
Disquiet was on stage. They had been doing a brilliant job; I hadn’t stopped dancing for the entire forty-five-minute set so far. The song ended and the guy in front of me leaned in to whisper, “Hey baby, want to come over to my pad?”
Oh, gods. A retro. I had an immense problem with retro speak. It’s like, hey if the 1970s and 1980s were so good, then why are we where we are now? Great-great-great-grandparent speech was dead. Or at least, should be.
I was just about to tell this guy to blow when a hand fell lightly on my shoulder. “Want to dance?” his breath caressed my neck. There was no mistaking his voice. My mystery man. There was something about it. Sure, he had an accent from Arabia, but there was something else too... something familiar. So, I would get to see him again. Brilliant.
I got rid of retro-boy by spinning around and wrapping a leg and both arms around my new friend. Giving him a kiss, I slowly turned to see that retro-boy had taken the hint. I let go of, wow, I really wished I knew his name, and stood in front of him, straightening my clothes.
“Thanks for that,” I said, looking up at his face. I expected to see surprise, but found none. Rather, he seemed bemused. So maybe there was something to this man who was taking over my thoughts. “And I would love to dance,” I said with a shy smile.
I stepped closer. Careful girl. Just like fishing, one must wait for the prey to take the bait.
Disquiet played another four songs. That gave me about fifteen minutes to observe this man. He was handsome, olive complexioned. His black eyes were bright and captivated me. His general coloring, along with his accent, led me to believe he was from the Arab Lands. I really wasn’t into geography, so any more than that, I would have to find out from him. He must have clubbed a lot because he could dance. And he seemed rather nice. What else did a girl need to know about a guy? Well, besides his name.
Disquiet left the stage. It was a good time to talk because the next band wouldn’t start for maybe twenty minutes. But just as I was about to ask him if he would like a drink, he said, “Do you ever tire? You danced the entire set.” He watched me? That I hadn’t expected. And I wondered if he had timed his appearance to help me out rather than being just a chance meeting.
“Um, sometimes. But it isn’t often.” My reply was softer than I had intended.
“You must be used to people leaving to take a break while you still dance, then.”
“Sure, it happens sometimes.” This had taken a turn south, but I was tongue-tied and couldn’t think of anything to keep him from going.
“I have to go. But I will find you again later. Yes?” So, this was how he would dump me. Sigh. Oh, well, there were other cuties at the concert and even some single guys from around Mom and Dad’s. Hmm, that could be an interesting group to hang with.
