The Letters (Carnage #4)(37)
Holding her hand and looking a lot less nervous than he should, is a bloke of about twenty-five. He’s wearing board shorts, a Led Zeppelin T-shirt, and a pair of flip-flops. Sunglasses cover his eyes.
“Hey, everyone. This is my boyfriend RJ. RJ, this is my family.”
RJ lifts his sunglasses up to his head and rests them there.
“Hey, all, thanks for having me over.” He smiles and they start to make their way towards the table. I watch them approach with a strange sense of unease creeping over me, the closer they get. There’s something about this boy’s face that looks vaguely familiar, and I’m not sure if it’s that or the wine that is making me feel both sick and a little uncomfortable.
Marley stands abruptly, pushing his chair back noisily in the process.
He looks at me, his eyes wide with panic.
“What’s the RJ stand for mate?” My dad, who is now wide awake and sizing up his next victim, asks.
“Oh, um, Rocco Junior. My dad was Rocco Taylor, it just saved on confusion.”
Marley almost staggers over as he backs away from the table. I drop the empty wine bottle I was holding.
THE
END …
FOR NOW!
PLAYLIST
“The Trouble with Us” Chet Faker & Marcus Marr “History” One Direction.
“You Get What You Give” The New Radicals “Demons” Imagine Dragons “Can’t Feel My Face” The Weeknd “Do or Die” Thirty Seconds to Mars “Where Love Lives” Alison Limerick “Unbreak My Heart” Toni Braxton “I Will Survive” Gloria Gaynor “Second Chance” Shinedown “Never Forget You” Zara Larsson “7 years” Lukas Graham “Stay With Me” Sam Smith
AUTHOR BIO
Lesley Jones was born and raised in Essex England but moved to Australia nine years ago with her family.
The Letters is her seventh book.
She has quickly gained a reputation as a writer of gritty, down to earth characters, involved in angsty and emotional plot lines. Carnage having won a number of awards for ‘Best Ugly Cry’
Her readers love the fact that she can switch her stories from hot and steamy, to snot bubble crying, followed by laugh out loud moments, in the space of a few sentences.
She has described the very best part of her job is meeting her readers and already has plans to travel to the U.S for several events during 2016, a list of which can be found on her web site.
When not writing, she has admitted to being a prolific reader, getting through around four or five books a week.
She is a fan of reality TV, listening to music and watching her son play football.
Connect With Lesley @
http://lesleyjonesauthor.com/
https://www.facebook.com/LesleyJonesAuthor/
https://twitter.com/LesleyKJones
https://instagram.com/authorlesleyjones/
Find all of Lesley’s books, here
lesleyjonesauthor.com
ALSO BY LESLEY JONES
CONVICTION
CHAPTER
1
I stand on the edge of the stage, eyes closed, arms raised, caught in the draft of the giant fans sitting in the wings, my hair lifts off my neck and it feels good, so f*cking good. I count the beats to the final drum roll of our last song for the night... for the tour in fact and wait for the roar of the crowd as I pull my earpiece out. I open my eyes and look out across the sea of faces, arms waving in the air as Jet throws his arm over my shoulder and kisses my cheek. He’s wearing a white feather boa around his neck, black leather jeans and he’s shirtless and barefoot. Gunner Vance and Dom Trip, our drummer and bass guitarist join us front and centre of the stage and we all take a bow.
We’re done. Eighteen months on the road is finally over. I’m going straight back to England tomorrow and I won’t have to look at the ugly f*cking faces of my other three bandmates until sometime next year. Well, I’ll probably see Gunner at some stage as we live not far from each other, but the other two are crazy Americans and unless we have any public appearances scheduled, then naaa, I’m done travelling for a while. I’m heading home, home to England, my house, my dogs, brothers, nieces and nephews and I can’t f*cking wait.
A pair of knickers land at my feet as a girl screams, “Reed, take me home, take me home and f*ck me.” I bend my knees and shield my eyes from the house lights that are starting to come on so I can get a better look at her.
Jet leans down and says in my ear, “Get her up here, just in case the rest don’t show, man.”
I look up at him. “Can you see her? What’s she look like?”
He shakes his head and winks at me. “I don’t give a f*ck. She has holes, at least three that are of interest to me, get her up here and let’s get back to the room to play.”
I tap the security bloke on the shoulder and point to the girl that screamed out to be f*cked. I’m not sure if they’re her knickers Dom now has on his head or not, but I’m sure it’s not gonna be long till we find out. The giant security guard lifts the girl up over the barriers and onto the stage. She turns around to the crowd and punches the air, earning herself a massive cheer and a few boos. Jet hooks his arm over her shoulder and steers her off stage while we all follow.