Rock Chick Revolution(184)

I shrugged.

All eyes grew dubious.

I threw up my hands. “Seriously,” I snapped. “I don’t know.”

Luckily, at this juncture, Indy came out of the bathroom carrying a bubble envelope.

“I hope that isn’t a secret mission we all have to go on because I’m kind of liking this kidnapping-free, stun-gun-free, car-explosion-free lifestyle,” Jules said. “And for a while now, we’ve had a good roll going.”

“That’s because you don’t live in LA,” Stella muttered.

We all looked to Stella and nodded.

We got her.

Suffice it to say, Mace’s men in LA had much the same taste in women as the men in Denver.

But in LA, you could get up to all kinds of crazy.

“Um… just to say, I kinda miss stun gunning,” Jet admitted

That was when we all looked to her and nodded.

We got her.

Though, I didn’t share that I’d stun-gunned someone just last week.

“It’s not a mission,” Indy told Jules and handed the envelope to me, her eyes coming to mine. “It’s from Jane.” She looked through the girls. “She wanted us all together and she wanted Ally to open it.”

I had a feeling I knew what was coming.

Because after pink and through green, lilac, blue, peach, salmon and ice blue, Jane had asked us to do the same thing.

I didn’t know why Jane didn’t participate in the festivities, but I did know that was her way.

With all eyes again on me, I slit open the envelope and slid out what was inside.

It was a berry colored book with a film strip and a white title.

Rock Chick.

Up the side in black, there was a strip that said Revolution.

It was my turn.

Righteous.

One thing I knew.

That book was going to be interesting.

And another thing I knew.

An Italian hothead was not going to be very happy.

I wasn’t worried. He’d get over it.

Because by then, he was used to it.

But mostly because he’d do it like all the men did it.

In his case: for me.

(And he didn’t fool me. I’d seen him grinning when he was reading the other ones.)

I scanned the cover and saw on the bottom, stuck to the side, was a sticky note. On it was an arrow pointing to the name, “Kristen Ashley” that said under it, New York Times Bestselling Author.

And next to that was written:

See?

Told you.

Fairytales come true.

I couldn’t help it and didn’t try.

I burst into tears.

At the same time I burst out laughing.

Then I flipped the book around for all to see.

That meant all the Rock Chicks gathered around me did the exact same thing.

Through my laughter and tears I lifted my hand straight up in the air, index finger and pinkie extended in devil’s horns.

The Rock Chicks did the same as me.

And because we were Rock Chicks, at the same time, we shouted two words.

We did it loud.

And we did it proud.

“Rock on!”

Except Shirleen.

She shook her head, looked around and muttered, “White women.”

Which of course meant we quit crying.

But we kept laughing.





Stay tuned.

We’re gonna follow Mace and Stella to Los Angeles.

‘Cause you can get up to all kinds of crazy there.





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About the Author

Kristen Ashley grew up in Brownsburg, Indiana but has lived in Denver, Colorado and the West Country of England. Thus she has been blessed to have friends and family around the globe. Her posse is loopy (to say the least) but loopy is good when you want to write.

Kristen was raised in a house with a large and multi-generational family. They lived on a very small farm in a small town in the heartland and existed amongst the strains of Glenn Miller, The Everly Brothers, REO Speedwagon and Whitesnake (and the wardrobes that matched).

Needless to say, growing up in a house full of music, clothes and love was a good way to grow up.

And as she keeps growing up, it keeps getting better.