Pro quarterback, Ethan Christopher thought he had found his home when he met rock musician, Mia Devereux. She was the welcomed distraction in his football-focused life.
Things may not have been perfect. Their individual careers made being together difficult. Her touring. His away schedule. As her success grew, they spent more extended periods apart.
But at the end of the day, he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Only her.
When Mia met Ethan, she felt a connection unlike any she’d ever felt. She gave him more of herself than she thought was even possible.
But she knew it wasn’t enough. There was a lot she didn’t share, couldn’t give him.
An event two decades in her past made sure of that.
Those demons that she’d so carefully tucked away wanted out. As Mia struggled with the stress of touring and being apart from Ethan, her defenses weakened, allowing the demons to fight their way to the surface, leaving her in a vulnerable place. A place where bad choices were made.
Choices that both of them will regret.
Can Mia and Ethan's love survive her past? Or will if fall apart under the weight of her choices?
January 30, 2008 749 PM
Welcome back to the Northern Hemisphere!
Thank you! I missed it.
It missed you too.
I’ve missed you.
Same here, sweets. How are you doing?
Just chilling in my dressing room before the show.
Wish I could be there.
Where are you?
She shook her head in frustration. Luke could text her but her own fiancé couldn’t? Was he still upset over their Skype conversation?
Have you talked to Ethan?
Goddamn it! You and your fucking short answers. What was talked about?
I don’t want to go there.
Don’t be mad.
Too late. Could you tell the man I am supposed to marry that I am back in the Northern Hemisphere … just in case he was wondering?
Mia threw her phone in her bag and stormed off. She knew she needed to calm down; the show started in thirty minutes. So she stalked down to the green room in search of a drink. Throwing open the door, she purposely made her way to the beverage table and grabbed a plastic cup, pouring herself a rather large shot of vodka, then slamming it and immediately pouring another and did it all over again.
“Not a good choice, Mia.”
She whipped around at the voice and found Marty sitting on the sofa with his guitar resting on his lap. She didn’t want to deal with his lectures right now. “What? Do you think I should have gone with the tequila?”
“Are you okay?” he asked, concern evident in his tone. Mia was thankful for him, but didn’t want to hear it. She wanted the numbness that being drunk brought her.
“Of course!” she said sarcastically. “I always change my routine before a show.”
“You never drink before a show. Never,” he informed her. Mia knew this. He was right and that made her feel awful.
“I know. Bad day.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No. I just want it to go away,” she said hopelessly.
“How about you save the drinking until after the show? I’ll even join you.”
“When did you become so responsible?”
“When I saw that my friend was barely holding it together and needed my help,” he said, his light green-gray eyes full of understanding.
Mia nodded at him, the older brother she never had, but always dreamed about. Placing the drink on the table, she exhaled loudly, the disappointment in herself overwhelming. Marty was right. She needed his help because she had no idea how to bring herself out of this downward spiral. Right now, she was hanging on to a frayed rope and each time she tried to pull herself up, the rope fell apart even more.
“Go back to your dressing room. Breathe. Relax. Then when we get out on stage, kick ass. Let’s start this leg of the tour off on the right foot.”
With a nod, she walked over to the door. “Thanks, Marty.”
She returned to her dressing room. Once inside, Mia rested against the door and closed her eyes.
“Breathe,” she chanted to herself, pushing all the thoughts out of her mind with each breath until she was visualizing the stage, standing at the mike and performing in front of the fans. She heard the music; felt the beat. Mia took her body through some of her moves and was so focused on her thoughts that it took a few tries for Allie to grab her attention.
“It’s time,” came Allie’s voice from the other side of the door.
Normally Mia would give a big speech before the show but wasn’t in the mood for one tonight. What she needed was a big group hug. She let her three bandmates pull her into their fold and felt the support they tried to give her. Even though it hadn’t been discussed amongst them, they knew she was in trouble—that she was upset about something. And, right now, they were there for her, giving her that much-needed support.
The lights went off on stage. Mia put her ear piece in while the band made their way on stage. She listened mindlessly to the soundboard operator’s chatter while she impatiently waited for her signal—the beginning of the song.
The music started with Marty’s guitar. Then the lights came on, dimly at first, giving her an opportunity to get to the center of the stage and her microphone stand without being seen. Then Todd’s beat joined the guitar. The moment Mia opened her mouth to sing, all the lights burst on and then flashed for a few notes of Clark’s steady deep beat. The drums and guitar were electrifying. She felt the adrenaline flow through her blood. She had a good feeling already about this show.
Her first book. Bring Me You, to be released December 2014.
During the day, Ryleigh is an analyst, but even then, she’s writing, sneakily crafting scenes on post-it notes. She's been told she's a bit of a geek...some say nerd. She'll agree to it all. She loves music. It's been a force in her life for as long as she can remember. Her love of Star Wars and superheroes has probably been going on just as long...see, this is where the geek/nerd thing comes into play. But, most of all, Ryleigh loves the written word. She's been writing for a long time. Her first story came to her during one of her history classes. She wrote it in the margins of her notebook in teeny tiny letters so no one knew that she was writing a book instead of taking notes on 16th Century Europe. She currently lives in Chicago, Illinois, with her husband and son, along with her Siberian Husky, Mick Jagger, and her cat, Winston Churchill.