Star Maker
Authors: J.M. Nevins
MAKER
J.M. Nevins
NIMBLE MINX PRESS
COPYRIGHT AND CREDITS
NIMBLE MINX PRESS
32158 Camino Capistrano,
Ste. A, PMB 370
San Juan Capistrano, CA 92675
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, or locales, or persons, living
or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2014 by J.M.
Nevins
All rights reserved,
including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form
whatsoever. For information address Nimble Minx Press at
www.nimbleminx.com/contact/
Library of Congress
Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Nevins, J.M.
Star Maker / J.M.
Nevins.—1
st
ed.
ISBN 13 978-1-63315-443-8
(Epub edition)
ISBN 10 1-63315-443-8
1. Recording Industry—California—Los
Angeles—Fiction 2.
Hollywood (Los Angeles, California)—Fiction. 3. Music—Fiction.
I. Title
2014910894
CREDITS:
Cover design courtesy of
pcmworks.com
Cover photograph: ©
Hemera/Thinkstock (girl with guitar)
DEDICATION
To the music and the muse that dwells inside all of us.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
To my entire family, especially my parents, Dennis
and Sylvia, who got me hooked on music from the start (with Dad being the first
musician I knew), my grandmother, Mary Helen, who bought me my first keyboard
and my first word processor, and to my amazing little brother, Dan, for your
creative spirit. Thank you all for your constant, unending support of and my
writing and me.
To my Woodstock songbird and rock star cousin,
the legendary Nancy Nevins. You’ve been a wonderful inspiration of true
musicianship and artistry to me.
To my two ultimate besties on the planet, Teri
McCarty and Jana Watkins. Thank you for your abundant love and support. You’ve
both been instrumental in helping me birth this labor of love all these years
with your complete allegiance to my work and constant laughs about our sordid,
highly colorful, musical past.
To my music industry friends, bands, artists,
and colleagues I’ve had the pleasure to know, work with, jam with, and gain
countless hours of inspiration. There are too many of you to name and if I
did, we’d be here all day, but I want to thank several of you directly for
being part of my process: Doug Allen, Brandi Alexander, Chris Baseford, Terry
Bozzio, Jeff Brooks, Christopher Cano, Roy Chen, Jonny Coffin, David Cooprider,
Sky Dangcil, Richard Danielson, Ray Davies, Sean E. Demott, Greg Gurniak,
Candice Han, Scott Humphrey, Dustin Jack, Kent Jacobs, Aetam Jakob, Chaz
Karanikis, John P. Kellogg, Don Kirkpatrick, Xen Lang, Dave Lombardo, John
Lowery, Randy Marshall, Xavier Marshall, Todd Moriarty, Amit Ofir, Finbar
O’Hanlon, Damon Ranger, Dan Rastorfer, Steve Rinkov, Karl “Lake” Sachtleben,
Rudy Sarzo, Aaron Silberman, Dan Sindel, Scott Stevens, Steve Stevens, and Meir
Yaniv.
To all that have helped along the way, pledged
your undying support to me, my work, or all the above. A huge thanks to:
Danielle Allen, Jeff Brooks, John C., Gretchen Cannon, Indigo Charles, Jennifer
Nitchman-Chong, Lorna Cook, Peyton Cook, Tasha Cook, Staci Cooper, Lynne
DuFresne, Kevin Equitz, Susanna Gaffney, Chanel Green, Cindy Hasko, Andrew
Grant Jackson, Don Kirkpatrick, Marc Lisheski, Joyce Pastor Lucas, Phil Martin,
Sarah Maxwell, Jeff McCarty, Karyn McIvor, Kelly Melanitis, Mitchy the cat
(RIP), Thembisa Mshaka, Cyndi Newcomer, Barbara Newman, Jake Dawson Pool, Doug
Sim, Wendy Smith, Audrey Shelton-Townson, Philip Von Wrede, Jana Watkins,
Joanna Winsborough, and Siri Shiva S. Yogiji.
And
thank you to God for
continually guiding my steps and making all of this possible.
CHAPTER 1
Summer 1984
Kit
awoke from her nap with a start. It wasn’t the sound of Van Halen screaming
loudly from the speakers in the black, 1980 Camaro Z28 rocking down the highway
at high speeds, or the fairly uncomfortable bucket seat that roused her. It
was the shrill sound of sirens too close for comfort that strained to blare
over the music.
Her
vibrant, green eyes immediately darted to the passenger side mirror and became
wide with horror as she noticed a convoy of Nevada State Troopers in hot
pursuit tailing the car, lights ablaze, while a thundering helicopter above
paced them. She looked over at Joe, immediately frightened, as she raised her
voice. “William Joseph Arden Valois, what the hell is going on?”
He
laughed loudly as they flew through a small dust cloud on Highway 15 just
outside of Las Vegas. “High speed chase, baby.” His caramel brown eyes danced
with excitement. “Isn’t this awesome?” He laughed again more maniacally.
Kit
heard the loudspeaker on the lead squad car demanding they pull over. She
shook her head slowly with calculated disdain, growing more annoyed by the
second with his spontaneous exploit. “Jesus Joe, would you please pull over.”
She leaned over and noticed he was clocking close to one hundred ten miles per
hour. Her eyes widened, she turned down the music, and yelled at the top of
her lungs. “Pull over, now!”
He
giggled and glanced over at her. “Kitty-Kat, don’t be such a buzz kill. I was
bored and had to find something to do while you were snoozing. I had no idea
this would be so much fun!”
She
rolled her eyes and shot him a look. “Now, Joe! C’mon. I start law school in
like a month. This isn’t going to look too good.”
Always
the eternal optimist, Joe smiled and his eyes lit up. “I can be your first
client then, ‘cuz surely they’re gonna throw me in jail, hot stuff!”
She
folded her arms in front of her chest and huffed, but was relieved when she
noticed the speed decreasing. She looked over at him. “You realize when they
do throw you in jail you will be separated from your guitar. Put that in your
pipe and smoke it.”
He
glanced over at her as he slowed down and moved over to the side of the highway,
creeping along. He suddenly looked panic stricken. “Shit! I didn’t think
about that.”
She
gave him a smug grin and nodded her head. “Yep, didn’t think so.”
Their
car came to a stop and the loud speaker from one of the trooper’s cars behind
them yelled out telling them to slowly get out of the car with their hands up.
Kit glanced over at him and chided, “And so the fun begins. Thanks for the
memories, Joe. Never a dull moment with you, honey.” She sighed and got out
of the car with her hands in the air, her back to the state troopers who had
their guns drawn and trained on them.
After a
solid twenty minutes of questions asked and answered, they left Kit alone. She
watched unfazed as they handcuffed Joe. He smiled and then opened his mouth
wide, trying hard not to burst into laughter as they led him to the squad car.
As much as she wanted to hate him in that moment, her face melted into a wicked
grin as a quiet giggle escaped. She nodded in his direction and looked at one
of the officers. “I’ll follow in his car.”
Kit
parked at the station and walked in, instantly commanding the attention of all
the male officers in the room. She used this to her favor and flashed a
charming grin. Being a tall, pretty redhead with legs for days had its
advantages. She sweetly asked the officer behind the desk where she could find
her friend. He was mesmerized by her emerald green eyes and could barely
manage a sentence before another uniformed officer led her to the holding cell.
As she sauntered toward the cell occupied by Joe, she pressed her lips
together to keep from laughing. The image before her proved entirely humorous.
It was such a humbling sight for someone like him. There he sat on a cot, head
hanging low as he leaned his elbows forward on his knees. Mr. Larger Than Life
had fallen from grace.
His
long, straggly, layered, wavy, blond hair stood out like a sore thumb in the
holding tank of that small Nevada town. The way he was dressed didn’t help
matters either. Black, leather boots graced his feet and teamed up with the
tight, red pants that clung to his spindly legs. A cut-up, sleeveless, rock
‘n’ roll concert T-shirt completed the look that made him appear like a freak
by local standards, but clearly an aspiring rock god by Hollywood Sunset Strip
standards.
She
walked up to the cell and grabbed a bar with each of her hands, sticking her
head in between. “Aww, don’t look so sad. I thought you wanted to get caught,
outlaw.”
He
lifted his head and his eyes lit up seeing her standing on the other side of
the cell. He grinned and then sighed. “Sorry, Kit-Kat.” He shook his head. “I
guess you’re right. I should grow up. I’ve only been sitting in here a few minutes
and I miss my guitar already. Stupid stunt. It’s that whole thrills thing.
Gets me every time.”
She
nodded and grinned. “Uh-huh, adrenaline junkie. Save that thought for
dinner.”
He
chuckled. “Does that mean you’re actually getting me out of here?”
“Yep.
Give me some time. I’ll work a deal and post your bail. I have a feeling I
know what you’re in for. Did they say anything to you?”
He
shook his head. “Not really. They said I was driving too fast. Something
about being way too far over the legal speed limit.”
She
grinned. “Obviously. I’ll be back.”
Kit
made her way to find the officer in charge and pose a few strategic questions.
She used all her knowledge from her undergraduate law classes to her advantage.
Once again, the officers were captivated and willing to give her anything she
wanted, including lessening the level of Joe’s reckless driving charges and
putting in a good word with the judge. Satisfied, she returned fifteen minutes
later and watched as the officer unlocked the cell door and freed Joe.
He
hugged Kit tightly and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.” He pulled
back and gazed into her eyes. “That wasn’t as much fun as I thought in the
end. Let’s get outta here. We can probably get to Cali by midnight if we punch
it.”
She
chuckled and her voice drawled with sarcasm. “Oh, I see you really learned
your lesson. Easy there, turbo. We’re stuck here until tomorrow. We’re gonna
back track a little and stay in Vegas tonight. Cali will have to wait.”
He
frowned as he followed her out of the precinct. “Huh? Why?”
She
smirked. “You have a court appearance in the morning and I’m representing you.
That’s the only way we’re going to get your charge lessened to a minor speeding
infraction and it’s the only way they’ll let you leave the state. Nevada
doesn’t like reckless driving pranksters much, especially a longhaired rocker
from out of state joyriding on their highways. I made a deal for you and it
was a good one. Fairly easy because you have no criminal record and the car
was clean—no drugs, current registration in your name.”
She
gave him a stern look and pointed. “Don’t balk. If all goes like I think it
will tomorrow morning, you’ll just have to pay a hefty fine and we’ll walk away
from this. We’ll be in Hollywood by tomorrow night and it will be a distant
memory, yet not at all a pleasant one.” She grinned.
He
laughed. “Ok, unless I can turn it into one. I think I’ll let you drive for
the rest of the day. Let’s find a nice hotel in Vegas and get a penthouse
suite. We’ll wash up and find a great restaurant. I’ll take you to dinner.
Seems you deserve it. I’ve put you through enough. Especially considering I
hid my drugs in the makeup bag in your suitcase. Good thing they didn’t find
it.” He winked at her and smiled.
Her
eyes widened. “You did what?”
He
threw his head back and laughed. “Classic! I totally had you. There’s
nothing in your suitcase. The car’s clean and so are we. I was yanking your
chain. Nothing to worry about, babe. Sorry, got your heart rate racing with
that one.”
She
chuckled and shook her head. “That’s just you being you. After all this time
I should be used to these kinds of stunts. Yet somehow you still manage to
surprise me.” She rolled her eyes. “Get in the car, fool.”
Later
that night, they sat across the table from each other at dinner. Joe grinned
at her. “Y’know, you really are the best.”
She
took a sip of her beer and her eyes twinkled. “I don’t think I’ll ever tire of
hearing you say that to me. You’ve been saying it since we were seven years
old. But I must ask, do you ever plan on growing up, Joe?”
He
chuckled and smiled wide. “Hell no. I thought you figured that out by now,
beautiful. C’mon, you’re awfully smart.” He winked.
She
laughed. “I’m glad we’re doing this. I’m moving to one of the biggest rock
cities in the nation with one of my best friends ever.”
He
knocked back the last of his cocktail. “Yep. We’re gonna make it there, baby.
You and me, we’re going places. We are.” He leaned forward on the table and
gazed into her eyes. “I’m glad we’re doing this too. New York wasn’t where we
were meant to be. It’s L.A. Are you sure you really want to be an attorney,
Kit? Or is that your daddy talking? You’re such a brilliant musician and
songwriter…”
He was
about to continue when she held up her hand to stop him and chugged the last of
her beer. She flagged the server for another round and looked at Joe, shaking
her head vehemently. “Uh-uh, no way. We don’t need to have this conversation
again. That part of my life is over, Joe. I’ve made my decision and I’m
sticking to it. I have two bands that I manage waiting for me in L.A. I
promised I would manage you when you find a band out there. Getting a law
degree specializing in entertainment will land me in a great record company if
I play my cards right. Besides, I’ve been on the road and I didn’t like it.
Too many boys in a smelly, sticky, stuffy tour bus ain’t my scene, babe. It’s
over, Joe. There’s no turning back.”
His
caramel brown eyes bore into her as he stared purposely to put her on the spot.
He wasn’t convinced. “Are you sure it isn’t because of him? Don’t let him
win. Remember, he can’t find you anymore Kit. You’ve cleaned up your trail.
You’re safe now. And I’ll make sure of that too.”
She
swallowed hard. Memories of her violent, possessive, ex-boyfriend were never
comforting, more like disturbing. She was desperate to change the subject.
She snorted and decided to make a joke to deflect the serious tone of their
discussion. “Are you going to give up music in L.A. and be my new bodyguard,
sweetie?”
He
laughed. “No, but I will definitely look out for you. And if you get sick of
living with Lex, you can crash at my place.”
Her
eyes widened. “You got a place already and didn’t tell me?”
He
shook his head and frowned. “No, of course not. But I’ll find a cool one.
All I have to do is throw money at someone and it will happen.”
She
sipped her new beer and then shook her head. “There are those rich boy antics
of yours again.”
He
raised an eyebrow. “Watch yourself, princess. Isn’t that the pot calling the
kettle black, my childhood Lake Forest neighbor who grew up in a mansion? A
mansion, Kit. Really.”
She
sighed. “That mansion belongs to my grandmother and you know it. I only lived
there part-time.”
He
laughed and shook his head. “Uh, ok. Whatever. Like your dad’s place was a
shack. C’mon, you could easily land a Cessna in the foyer of his house, Kit.”
She
rolled her eyes. “My dad’s house isn’t half as big as my grandmother’s and you
know it. Besides, I left that all behind when I moved to Philly. You know
that.”
He
chuckled and shook his head, refuting her statement. “You lie like a rug.”
She
stared at him. “Ok, so my dad did put me through college at Penn. He did pay
for everything, but he’s not doing it anymore. He’s pissed about my choices,
so I have to float on my own dime until I turn twenty-five and then I’ll get my
trust fund.”
Joe
grinned. “Oh, bummer. Have to wait that long, huh? Don’t worry, Daddy still
loves you Kit-Kat, otherwise he wouldn’t have bought you that beautiful, cherry
red, convertible Porsche 911 for graduation that’s probably made its way safely
to L.A. on the semi truck transport by now.”
She
shook her head. “No, Joe. I’m serious. My dad and I aren’t even speaking. I
only have that car left and it was given to me as a present from my very
generous grandmother.”
He
laughed and joked. “Nana’s got style! Hot damn!”
She
giggled and sipped her beer. “Nana didn’t pick it out, my brother did. He
knew what I would like. My dad told her not to do it.” She flashed a devilish
smile. “She did it anyway.”