With Vengeance Read online

  SHE MEANS BUSINESS

  Twenty-three year old Katana James can shred on the guitar. Not that anyone would know, as she’s spent most of her time working on a popular news and gossip website for heavy metal fans since her own band broke up. But her dreams are in reach when she gets an audition to play with her favorite band, Bleeding Vengeance. Kat won’t let her gender, her anxiety disorder, or even the pranks of a malicious stalker stand in her way. The only thing to threaten her focus? A growing fascination with the group’s brilliant, mysterious bass player.

  HE OFFERS PLEASURE

  Klement Burke has always been the heart, soul and brain of Bleeding Vengeance. He’s the kind of rock star who stays in the shadows, a perfectionist more interested in satisfying his brain than other parts of his body. Until he auditions Katana James. At first it seemed a perfect idea, as he’s been aware of her talent for some time. But meeting her in the flesh ignites thoughts far from professional. Despite the conflict of work, the odds against her falling for a geek like him, and a secret he’s been hiding, his heart, body and soul now belong to Kat.

  PRAISE FOR KISSING VICIOUS,

  THE FIRST BOOK IN THE HEARTS OF METAL SERIES

  “I really enjoyed this book. It’s one of those that hit all my happy buttons and allowed me to live out a fantasy through the words of the author.”

  —Smexy Books

  “KISSING VICIOUS is a sensual, rockin’ romance with a hero to die for.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “This is not your usual rocker romance. I thank the author for creating strong characters and taking a different course from usual. We really need more strong characters like Kinley and Quinn in the romance genre.”

  —The Romance Reviews

  “Romance is deftly blended with humour, fantasy is tinged with tragedy, and the whole thing rolls along, nicely underpinned by a solid soundtrack of metal. It’s sexy, it’s absorbing and whole-heartedly refreshing, and while at the heart of it ‘Kissing Viciöus’ might be a romance novel, there is much more to it than that. Consider me impressed and very pleasantly surprised.”

  —Jim Goforth, Author of Undead Flesh Crave

  “This book is amazing. Well-written with great character development. If you love heavy metal or stories about heavy metal bands, you are gonna love this one. Well worth reading and one I highly recommend to all.”

  —All Things Book Review

  OTHER PRAISE FOR BROOKLYN ANN

  “Following her promising debut (BITE ME, YOUR GRACE), Ann hits her stride with solid writing, a tasty dash of originality, and realistic relationships that zing with sexual energy. A strong sense of fun mixed with a little feminism keeps things lively and light, while the well-developed story keeps eyes on the page.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Ann’s delightful vampire world is a fun place to stop for a swift, lively evening’s enjoyment. Yes, it is a dark world, but with Ann’s propensity for subtle humor and eccentric characters, it’s an enchanting world as well. Four Stars.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “Brooklyn Ann’s series is a definitely must read.”

  —Romantic Reads and Such

  WITH VENGEANCE

  a HEARTS OF METAL novel

  Brooklyn Ann

  www.BOROUGHSPUBLISHINGGROUP.com

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, business establishments or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Boroughs Publishing Group does not have any control over and does not assume responsibility for author or third-party websites, blogs or critiques or their content.

  WITH VENGEANCE

  Copyright © 2016 Brooklyn Ann

  Smashwords Edition

  All rights reserved. Unless specifically noted, no part of this publication may be reproduced, scanned, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Boroughs Publishing Group. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or by any other means without the permission of Boroughs Publishing Group is illegal and punishable by law. Participation in the piracy of copyrighted materials violates the author’s rights.

  ISBN 978-1-944262-03-7

  Ebook formatting by Maureen Cutajar

  www.gopublished.com

  Dedicated to Karen Ann

  6-1-62 ~ 2-14-09

  You were the best mom ever. Thank you for imbuing me with a love of music.

  And to Kent Butler, my own personal rock star. Thank you so much for helping me with research, being my inspiration, and always being there for me.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thank you so much to all the people who made this book shine. First, to my agent, Nephele Tempest, and my editor, Chris Keeslar.

  Thank you to my fabulous crit partners, Bonnie R Paulson, Shelley Martin, Rissa Watkins, and Laurie Schneider!

  Thank you to the musicians who helped me with my research. Kent Butler for telling me what goes on in a recording studio, Dean Chamberlain for letting me know what chord does what, and Christian Brady for priceless info on album covers and other developments.

  A huge thanks to my friends and family for your encouragement and support.

  And thank you to my Street Team and Newsletter peeps for keeping up the hype.

  And thanks to Bad Movie club for bringing levity and helping me keep my sanity.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Brooklyn Ann

  WITH VENGEANCE

  Chapter One

  The door of the recording studio resembled a hungry mouth. Katana James set down her guitar case and wiped her sweating palms on her jeans. Waves of anxiety engulfed her, invoking a fine tremor in her hands. Her breath came in short, quick pants as her lungs threatened to quit taking in air. Casting quick glances around the parking lot and walkway, she grabbed her Xanax out of her purse. Unscrewing the bottle, she shook out a tiny oval orange pill. A half one or a whole? Her mouth twisted in an indecisive frown. She was definitely anxious enough to merit a whole pill, but she didn’t want to slow down and fuck up a riff.

  “Please, God, don’t let me blow this,” she whispered.

  She had been given the once-in-a-lifetime chance to fulfill one of her deepest fantasies: to be the lead guitarist in her favorite band, Bleeding Vengeance. Although the chance was slim of them choosing a nobody, much less a girl, she was beyond thrilled at the opportunity.

  Even now she couldn’t believe she was here. Every mile of the fifteen hour drive she’d had to fight back the giddy flutter in her heart to concentrate on listening to the sample tracks they’d sent her to learn her parts, all the while praying her trusty old Subaru wouldn’t die on her. For the longest time it seemed that her best friend Kinley had all the luck, somehow snagging a job as a roadie for her favorit
e band, Viciӧus, and miraculously joining them as stand-in guitarist when their own went to rehab. But if Kat managed to impress Bleeding Vengeance, she’d be more than a stand-in. Because Lefty Swanson was dead.

  He’d been a legend and her biggest inspiration. Now she might be called on to take his place.

  Forcing herself to take deep breaths, Kat snapped the Xanax in half with her thumbnail and swallowed it with a swig of water. She grimaced at the acrid taste as she put the other half back in the bottle. Lifting her chin, she picked up her guitar case. It didn’t matter. She’d show everyone that she could shred with the best of ’em.

  When she entered the studio, the guy looked up from the counter and sneered. “Girlfriends aren’t allowed in here.”

  “I’m not anyone’s girlfriend.” Kat lifted her guitar case. “I have an appointment with Bleeding Vengeance.”

  The guy blinked. “You’re the studio musician they’re trying out?”

  Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Kat nodded. “And possibly their next guitarist.”

  The son of a bitch scoffed. “A chick in Bleeding Vengeance? No way, it’ll never happen. You couldn’t fill Lefty Swanson’s shoes.”

  “We’ll decide that ourselves, Frank,” a soft voice countered before Kat could retort. An extremely tall man had emerged from a recording room, just outside a shaft of sunlight from the window. “Katana James?” he inquired.

  She started forward and froze with a gasp. It was none other than Klement Burke, the bassist of Bleeding Vengeance. But he was more than just the bassist. He was the brains behind the whole band and composed almost half of their songs. Which meant that he’d be the one to decide her fate. He was the one who’d first called her for an interview.

  When she’d answered the phone, Kat had almost embarrassed herself, mistaking him for the IT guy who worked on Metalness.com, the fan website she and Kinley ran on the side while pursuing their music careers. Klement’s voice was eerily similar to IT Guy’s. Thankfully, he hadn’t seemed to notice Kat’s confusion as he questioned her intently about her musical background and abilities. He then sent her the MP3s of the songs she needed to learn and set an appointment for her to come down to the studio in Denver for a session. Now, here she stood, staring up at him like an idiot.

  He had to be near six and a half feet tall, way taller than he appeared in their album pictures or on stage. Long, sandy blond hair caressed his shoulders, curling slightly at the ends. His blue-green eyes danced with mischief and intelligence. Some strange, intense feeling tightened Kat’s stomach and chest, making it hard to breathe.

  She stared for what felt like an eternity, her heart pounding before she recovered herself and nodded. “Yes, I’m Katana.”

  Klement gave her an unreadable smile and gestured for her to follow him to where the rest of the band waited, including Cliff Tracey, the lead singer and her biggest crush. Kat didn’t know what would be worse: Klement rejecting her, or humiliating herself in front of Cliff. Sucking in a deep breath, she squeezed the handle of her guitar case in a death grip and followed.

  The bassist’s long strides led to small break room where three men lounged, men she’d only seen from a distance on stage at concerts and up close on posters on her wall. Roderick Powell eyed her up and down with a friendly smile.

  “’Ello, love. So you’re the one who’s going to help us make this album?”

  His British accent made her want to melt into a puddle. She nodded and shook his hand, hoping she didn’t look too star-struck. “I’m Katana James.”

  “Roderick Powell.” He continued to scrutinize her. “You look too little to be behind those blistering samples we heard.”

  Behind her, Klement laughed. “Yeah, she is pretty short.”

  “Five feet.” Kat managed a nervous smile before her gaze strayed to the front man of the band. Cliff Tracey stood only five feet away. Her breath halted as she took in the sight of his rich chestnut curls, chocolate eyes and sculpted jaw. The man was too beautiful for words.

  His gaze swept her from head to toe as he shook her hand, making heat rise to her cheeks. “So you’re ‘Metal-Kat’ from Metalness.com. You’re even better-looking than your partner. But you look too cute for this work.”

  A line from the Rudolph Christmas special rang in her head. He thinks I’m cute!

  She choked back a giggle. She could do that later when she called Kinley and told her how it went.

  “That’s right.” Roderick leaned forward. “I love that site. You give us good promo, and your memorial post for Lefty did him justice.”

  “Thanks,” she murmured. “Kinley wrote most of it, since…uh, she was there with you guys when it happened. I just filled in the background.” Kat looked down at her feet, feeling depressed and awkward at bringing up that tragic day when Lefty had been found dead from a cocaine overdose in his hotel room during the band’s tour with Viciӧus. Kin had called her both right after it happened and then at the memorial service, knowing Kat wished she was there herself to honor the memory of her idol.

  The fact that she was here to replace their fallen comrade and her idol struck Kat again full-force. She didn’t want to usurp Lefty. She wanted to honor his legacy. She prayed they would see that.

  Cliff stepped closer to her. “The part you wrote was the most beautiful.”

  Kat shivered at his proximity and husky voice. “Thank you.”

  Klement made an impatient sound behind her. “Let’s get rolling.”

  She snapped to attention, ashamed of her giddy distraction. She was here to work, not flirt with a potential colleague.

  Cliff grinned. “Open up that case, sweetie. Let’s see what you got.”

  Kat smiled back, hoping she wasn’t blushing, and opened her case to reveal her vintage Gibson Flying V.

  Cliff nodded in approval. “Good choice.”

  “Lefty played a Gibson V.”

  Klement’s soft voice washed over Kat, tremulous with sorrow. The grief in his eyes gave her an unreasonable urge to hug him.

  “I know,” she whispered. “He was my hero.”

  They exchanged a long look, and Kat was struck by the sincere respect in the bassist’s eyes. In all her twenty-three years, no one had ever taken her so seriously before. Even Kinley often rolled her eyes at her, accusing her of being too girly. Kat wanted more than anything to be worthy of this respect.

  She was led into the recording room.

  “So, where do I plug in?”

  He handed her a giant set of headphones and gestured to the center of the room, where speaker cabinets were arranged along with a set of whammy pedals. “Right here.”

  Kat hooked up her guitar, and Klement showed her where to plug the headphones so she could hear the music and instructions from the console station behind the glass. “We’ll be back there keeping an eye on things, but try to pretend you’re alone.”

  Easy for you to say, she thought.

  Roderick and Cliff were already in there. They waved at her from the window. Klement nodded and strode off, leaving her alone in the chamber feeling like a zoo exhibit. Kat swallowed, mouth dry.

  The bassist’s voice echoed in her headphones, alarmingly intimate in her ears and somehow familiar. “We’re going to start with ‘Sorrow’s Harvest.’ Are you ready?”

  She nodded with a confidence she didn’t feel.

  “Remember, just like you’re at home practicing….”

  Klement’s voice faded out. Something about the echo made Kat think of her IT guy again. But he couldn’t be—

  The thought broke as music began to play through her headphones.

  The song sounded almost the same as it had on the MP3 sent her to practice with, only the scratch guitar section was gone and Cliff’s voice sounded more pure. Closing her eyes, Kat struck the first chord just in time. The faces of her audience faded from her awareness as fierce concentration overtook her being, focus on touching each string at the right time, adding the correct pressure, making her instrume
nt sing. Like an auditory engineer, she focused on one note and then the next until the song finished and triumph straightened her spine. She hadn’t messed up. In fact, she’d sounded pretty good.

  Clapping echoed in the headphones, jolting her back to reality.

  “Bloody well done, love!” Roderick said.

  Cliff stared at her through the window with increased interest. “Where’d you learn to play like that?”

  “I…uh…” Kat shrugged. “I just keep trying until I get it right.”

  Klement shook his head. “It’s not where she learned it, it’s why.” He looked at her long and intently. “Why do you play?”

  She gave him a direct stare through the glass. “I love music.”

  He smiled with such understanding and satisfaction that her body warmed. “That’s right. Now let’s see how well you learned the new songs.”

  Those penetrating blue eyes left hers and turned to the others. “Let’s do ‘Forsaken.’ It’s the one that’ll probably get the most airplay.”

  Kat sucked in a breath. The song began with a complicated lead guitar riff.

  I can do this, she told herself as she positioned her fingers. Klement gestured for her to start. Kat breathed out slowly and executed the riff. Was it right? It sounded right.

  As the bass, drums, and rhythm guitar played in her headphones, her pulse settled and she was able to continue. Her usual joyous abandon was diminished in the face of her concentration upon playing the song perfectly. However, there was another sort of bliss in tapping her feet and focusing on the beat as her fingers moved with precision across the fret board and the right sounds were birthed.

  When the song finished, Klement and the others gave her quick, satisfied nods before moving on to another.

  So far, so good.

  They had her do two more songs. On the last, just as she was beginning to relax, she fucked up and hit a G instead of a C. Her hands lifted from the guitar as if it had suddenly turned molten hot. After she halted, the music stopped with a sharp click in her ears and everyone turned to stare at her. The silence rang like a death knell.