We are huge, huge, HUGE fans of T. Torrest here at Have Book Will Read. Not only is she a fab writer — if you haven’t read the Remember When trilogy yet then get on that right NOW! — but she is also a super nice person and one we are privileged to call a friend.
We wanted to do something special to celebrate Down the Shore, the soon to be released spin off from Remember When. Down the Shore is Jack and Livia’s story and if you’ve read Remember When then you’ll know Jack is Layla’s cousin.
So, as a special treat, we have an EXCLUSIVE sneak peek of the
ENTIRE FIRST CHAPTER of DOWN THE SHORE!!
You’re welcome, and enjoy 😉
LIVIA CHADWICK is a photographer by day and a self-proclaimed rock slut by night.
Her dating life is a lackluster parade of evasive jerks and her boss is an unrelenting nightmare of a human being.
What else can a girl do but rent a beach house with her girlfriends and blow off a little steam every weekend?
But hey, she’s from Jersey. Barhopping down the shore all season is sort of mandatory.
All is going according to plan… until she meets Jack.
JACK TANNER is a contractor-turned-musician in a small-town cover band suddenly thrust into the limelight.
He’s already had enough of the rock-and-roll lifestyle, and groupies have never been his thing.
Then again… there’s a gorgeous brunette in the audience tonight, checking him out with the most incredible green eyes he’s ever seen.
She’s looking for a fling.
He’s looking for forever.
It’s gonna be one helluva summer.
DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER
if you are easily offended by questionable language and sexual inferences!
(Technically) Friday, May 26, 1995
Brendan Byrne Arena (backstage)
East Rutherford, NJ
I rehooked my bra and pulled my micro-sized concert tee back over my torso as Rider MacLaine stuffed his dick back into his jeans.
Rider’s the lead singer of Dark Forest, the awesome alternative band that opened for Pearl Jam tonight. My friend Tess and I had front row seats, enabling Rider and me to do some serious eye-fucking all night. About midway through Pearl Jam’s set, we received The Message, like I figured we would. A security guy had come over to Tess and me with a couple of backstage passes, and I knew Rider was looking for a little more than just sight sex.
So I blew him. Sue me.
His band was phenomenal and it was the least I could do to say “thank you.” Except that I just happened to say it by taking off my shirt and wrapping my lips around his cock. And he said “you’re welcome” by pulling out and shooting his wad into his nearby sweat towel.
Kind of gentlemanly, right?
Rider’s pretty hot, but I wasn’t expecting to ever see him again. That’s the mistake most girls make: mooning over the posters on their walls, dreaming too hard about the rock star staring back at them. Pinning all their hopes on just that one chance to try and make the guy their own, envisioning a happily ever after with some guy who doesn’t even know they exist.
If you happen to be one of those girls, I’ll save you a lot of trouble right now and let you in on a little secret:
There’s no such thing as a happily ever after.
“So, listen,” he started in. “We’re leaving Jersey tonight. I’d get your number, but…”
“Rider,” I laughed out. “You think I’m expecting you to call me?” I crossed my arms against my stomach, trying to contain my laughter.
That brought a smile to Rider’s face. “I guess I just thought you’d expect me to at least ask.”
The guy is gorgeous, he’s an amazing musician, he’s got a great big beautiful cock, and now I come to find that he’s got a conscience. A girl could do worse. But I wasn’t delusional enough to think that that girl would ever be me. “Don’t sweat it, Rider. All I was expecting from you was a little fun and that’s what I got. Thanks.” My eyebrows raised and I was trying to contain my smile.
Rider was amused. He put his shirt back on and said, “You’re pretty cool, uh…”
“Livia,” I finished for him.
“I knew that.”
“Sure you did.”
I rolled my eyes and we both laughed.
“Hey, listen. Maybe I was just trying to be nice before, but I think you’re really cool. I actually want to call you next time I’m in town. How ‘bout that number?”
I was flattered by the offer. But this scenario was nothing new; I’ve been here before. These rockers must get so sick of girls trying to tame them, trying to lay some sort of claim just because the guy dropped a load in their presence. When a girl like me comes along, a girl who isn’t looking for some lifetime commitment, it’s a breath of fresh air.
“How ‘bout we just plan on maybe seeing each other next time you’re playing here. If I’m around, I’ll find you.”
He gave me a nod, then held out his fist to me. “Rock on, Livia.”
I fistbumped him back. “Rock on, MacLaine.”
Rider reclaimed his hand and started to walk off. “Well, I guess I’ll see ya. Thanks for the head.”
Ugh. The guy’s an amazing lyricist, and that’s his parting line?
I brushed off my tights, straightened my miniskirt, and headed back into the VIP room to check on Tess. She was sitting on a green couch talking up the drummer, Sal, and I knew that there was no way she’d already taken care of business. Tess has always been a love ‘em and leave ‘em type of gal, so it’s a rare occasion when I see her still making small talk with her latest conquest. She’s so flipping gorgeous that most guys come pretty quickly, and she finds she doesn’t have much use for them after that. I swear, the girl’s life is a constant searchfor the guy who can hold out long enough to get her off.
So, either Sal was the magic stud who had somehow breeched that wall, or she hadn’t closed the deal with him just yet. Based on their current body language, I guessed the former scenario was bloody unlikely. Damn. Now I had to wait on her to get the deed done, and that means we might be here for a while. I’m no slouch, but nine times out of ten, she’s the one waiting for me to finish up, based on that whole Quick Draw McGraw situation I just mentioned. It was already late and I was tired, but there was no getting around it: I knew it was my turn to play backup for my girl.
Payback’s a bitch.
I grabbed a beer from the bar and joined them on the couch.
“So, you went to med school?” Tess asked Sal. “That’s incredible. Hey Liv, check it out. Not only is he an amazing drummer, but Sal here is also a doctor.”
Sal laughed. “No, no, no. I never graduated. I said I went to med school. I didn’t say I got my degree.”
Those two were yukking it up as my eyes scanned the room for Rider. I expected to see him back in here, trolling for his next object of prey. Not that the chase would’ve been a problem for him. Trust me, I wasn’t the only girl in that audience who wanted to get him backstage.
In my experience, I’ve found that there are two types of rockstars;
- Those that nail some random groupie before calling it a night and
- Those that nail numerous random groupies before calling it a night.
I was only mildly surprised to find that Rider fell into the first category. Good for him. I really did like the guy, and I don’t want my favorable impression of him tarnished.
In any case, that was neither here nor there. I was more focused on the fact that I now had to rally for the endless evening still ahead of me, and shit. I’ve got work tomorrow.
“Hey Liv. I’m beat. Ya wanna get out of here?”
Tess’s words surprised me, but I wasn’t about to argue. Sal looked a bit taken aback, but I didn’t doubt that he’d be able to find a second-string tight end with which to spend his evening. That he’d already made his way over to the bar to talk to another girl showed me that he didn’t doubt it either.
Now that it was just the two of us here on this scratchy couch, I asked Tess, “What’s going on? You and Sal not getting along?”
Tess played with the strap of her Coach wristlet. “No, he was really nice. But I’m just not up for it tonight. We can stay and just hang out though, if you want.”
No, thank you. I already made my kill for the evening. There was really no reason to hang around. “No. I’m actually tired, too. Let’s bolt.”
Tess and I are normally partners-in-crime for this sort of thing. She’s a music lover like me, so we normally spend our weekends checking out the local bands at the nearby clubs. So, when an actual band like Pearl Jam comes to town? Tess and me are all over that shit.
Tess is a bit of a rock slut like me.
That circumstance is only due to the fact thatI’m a born-and-bred, unapologetic lover of all things musical. Always have been, always will be.
I’m a bit obsessed with rock and roll, but that doesn’t stop me from digging all music, even the bad stuff. Rap. Country. Pop. There’s a time and place for everything. I truly get that.
And regarding the good stuff, how can I possibly dig rock without tossing a nod to the masterminds who were responsible for it?Jazzy greats like Django Reinhardt. Louis Armstrong. Miles Davis. Bluesy tunes like “The Thrill is Gone” or “Georgia on My Mind” always make me melt, and a voice like Billie Holiday’s goes down like warm maple syrup on a piping hot pancake. It’s comfort food for my ears.
Going back even further, you’ve got your masters, the guys who started the whole music revolution in the first place. Bach and Beethoven. Tchaikovsky and Chopin. And the big daddy of them all, the guy who was so cool, Eddie Van Halen named his kid after him: Wolfgang Amadeus Motherfucking Mozart. The dude kicked some serious ass.
So, truly, I can appreciate all of it.
Even with that said, Tess and I are pretty much rock-and-roll chicks above all else. And when we find ourselves confronted with a band full of hot guys who just happen to be super-talented to boot? Well, it doesn’t take much more than that to get us wrapped around their little fingers.
Or other body parts.
Just to be clear— If the band sucks… we don’t.
Normally, we’ll call dibs early on during the show, and most times, we manage to weasel our way backstage to meet our prospective partners for the evening. Tess is hot and she’s always been the type of girl to get noticed, so having her in my camp makes that possibility a little easier to invoke.
Once we get backstage, the story is always the same. We get invited into the VIP room where our sweaty, exhausted rock stars are already whooping it up and drinking their faces off with all the other hopeful girls like us.
The key is to get their attention early, separate yourself from the crowd.
While the rest of the girls are hanging all over the guys and trying to get them to leave the room, Tess and I tend to use a different tact. We’ll normally grab a bottle of champagne and make a big production of opening it, laughing our heads off as we try to get it uncorked, bending and twisting and “fighting” over which one of us is going to get the honors. It’s a performance we’ve played out a million times. With all the commotion, we’ll manage to draw a bit of attention, and by the time the cork pops, all eyes are on us. Works every time.
I mean, if we actually went through the trouble to get our asses backstage, the guys have just presumably played an amazing show. They’re not looking to leave the room yet; they’re looking to celebrate. So, Tess and I try to make it pretty clear that we’re there to just hang out and party, toast their success, help them blow off a little steam.
They appreciate that.
After a little while, once I’ve got my target winnowed out and he’s got a few drinks in him, it doesn’t take long for him to make his move. That’s when I know he’s ready to leave for a more, ah… private party.
And I never disappoint. I’m not one of those cock-teases, crushing on some rock star from afar, pouting when our first kiss doesn’t have him falling madly in love and proposing to me right there on the spot. Hell, sometimes we don’t even have a first kiss before the guy is unbuttoning his fly.
And I am totally cool with that.
I already have a boyfriend anyway.
Well, sort of. I’ve been dating this guy Mitch for a while. Only like three months or so, and he’s made it pretty well-established that we’re not exclusive.
“So, how’d it go with Rider?” Tess asked once we were outside.
“Okay, I guess. He was really nice.”
“Was his dick nice?”
That made me laugh. “Yeah. We became pretty close friends almost immediately.”
And that’s really all I needed to tell her about the encounter. I could’ve gone into the whole story, but it’s not like Tess needed to live vicariously through me. She’s had plenty of encounters of her own.
Just not tonight. Oh well.
We got into the car and Tess immediately blasted the radio. We’d listened to Pearl Jam the whole way here, but since we’re new fans of Dark Forest, we changed out the CD for the one we bought at the concession stand at the arena.
It really was a good night.
As I heard the rumbling strains of “Turning Point” blaring out of the speakers, I held up my palm to my friend. She smacked it for a high five and then we headed home.
If you haven’t read Remember When yet then now is your chance!
Between 3rd – 14th July you can grab it for just 99c on Amazon and Barnes & Noble