His dead lover is coming back to rock his world all over again.
When rock star and recovering alcoholic Fisher Kelty is found dead, overdosed on booze and pills, the coroner rules it an unfortunate accident. But Fisher’s death leaves his partner, Casey, with more questions than answers as he tries to put his shattered world back together.
As the anniversary of his passing rolls around, and conspiracy theories rear their heads, Casey begins to dream of Fisher. Strange things start happening in the home they shared. Is Fisher trying to contact Casey, and if so, why?
Casey’s friend Will believes that’s the case. He encourages Casey to visit a psychic and find out whether Fisher has a message for him. Casey hopes this will finally put to rest all the doubts he has over why Fisher died. However, as Fisher becomes an all-too-real presence in Casey’s life once more, eager to pick up where they left off, Casey realizes nothing is as simple as it seems where a handsome, sexy ghost is involved.
Reader advisory: This book contains descriptions of death and references to suicide.
General Release Date: 20th October 2020
No one knew how to work a crowd like Fisher Kelty. He stood with one foot on a monitor at the front of the stage, holding out his microphone to the sea of eager, expectant faces.
“Come on, Los Angeles. Let me hear you scream!”
Sweat glistened on his lean, bare chest, and his leather pants clung enticingly to his taut ass. Seven thousand voices chanted the band’s name in unison.
“Jagged Blade! Jagged Blade!”
From my vantage point at the side of the stage, I was tempted to join in. I was no less immune to Fisher’s personal magnetism than any of those fans—hell, before Jagged Blade had made it big, I’d always watched him perform from among them. No ‘access all areas’ laminated pass for me in those days, back when the band had attracted no more than a couple of dozen paying customers to some little sweatbox on the Sunset Strip.
“Yeah, you know you scream real good!” Fisher said. His words were the cue for Eddie to pick out the bass riff to Scream Real Good, Jagged Blade’s biggest hit and their final encore of the night. Down in the mosh pit, teenage boys slammed their bodies into one another and yelled in a frenzy. They’d been waiting all night for this moment and it was as if a storm had broken.
Fisher strutted back and forth. He didn’t need to sing a word—the crowd did it for him. The smile on his face was so wide it seemed to envelop the rest of the band. I struggled to remember the last time I’d seen him enjoy himself so much. Maybe it was the knowledge this was the final night of the tour and he was coming home to me after four months on the road. Or maybe that was just my ego talking. I couldn’t deny I’d missed him, and much as I loved watching him, I was aching for the moment we’d be alone together—no bandmates, no hangers-on.
When the last chords of the song died away, the chants for more rang out. But already the house lights were coming up to signal the concert was over.
The band stumbled off stage, Eddie handing his precious bass to the guitar technician before he passed me. I slapped Eddie’s back and we exchanged greetings, words of congratulations. Then Fisher swept me into his arms and pressed a fierce kiss to my lips.
“Oh, Case. That was…nearly as good as sex.” He grinned and hugged me tight. He smelled of fresh sweat and patchouli cologne, and I could have breathed in his scent till the end of time. “Fuck, am I glad that’s over.”
“You looked like you were having a great time up there.”
“Yeah, adrenaline’s a hell of a drug.” As we walked to the dressing room, still wrapped up in each other, I couldn’t help noticing how he favored his right leg.
“Your knee giving you problems again?” I asked, trying to keep the worry out of my voice.
“It’s nothing. I popped a couple of Vicodin before the show. I guess they must be wearing off.”
“You know I don’t like you taking those things.”
“Hey, if the doc says they’re fine, they’re fine. And now the tour’s over I’m just gonna sit around the house and let you wait on me hand and foot all day…”
Though I knew he was joking, I still gave him an affectionate slap on the ass. “If that’s what you want, hire yourself a damn servant, Fisher.”
He paused on the threshold of the dressing room. “I’m just gonna pop my head in, say hi to everyone, but I don’t wanna stay long.” He nuzzled my ear, gently biting the lobe. “It’s been far too long since you and I had some quality alone time.”
With that, he pushed open the door. The rest of the band were already sprawled over the seats, clutching bottles of beer and coming down from the high of two hours spent blasting out Jagged Blade’s greatest hits. Kai, the guitarist, had his wife, Emma, sitting in his lap and he was twisting her long, red hair in his fingers. It seemed like I wasn’t the only one who’d been looking forward to the tour finally coming to an end.
“Fisher!” Before we’d taken two paces into the room, Fisher was surrounded by people wanting a piece of him. I recognized the band’s manager, Marty. The others could have been from the record label, journalists or simply fans who’d managed to sneak through the backstage security cordon. I didn’t know and I didn’t care. This wasn’t my world, and the sooner we got out of here, the better.
Someone tossed Fisher a can. He popped the tab and took a long swig. Automatically, I tensed up, relaxing only when I realized he was drinking a Diet Dr. Pepper. I couldn’t help myself. It had taken Fisher so long to get sober, and part of me never stopped worrying he might relapse. Maybe his going into rehab last year really had been the turning point.
I helped myself to a bottle of water and unscrewed the cap, needing to slake my own thirst. With Fisher back home, at least I could stop worrying about what he might be getting up to behind my back, if only for a little while. I hated not trusting him, but I knew all about the temptations of being on the road. The drink, the drugs, the easy sex. Fisher had sworn to me at the start of the tour I had nothing to worry about. Watching him now, I started to believe he’d been telling me the truth.
“You okay?” Fisher draped an arm around my shoulders.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Only you look like you’d rather be anywhere else than here right now.”
“Maybe. You know I don’t have much time for all this schmoozing and ass licking.”
Fisher bent close to my ear. “Hey, as I seem to recall, you didn’t complain the last time you got your ass licked.”
The memory sent a pleasurable shiver through me. “That feels like so long ago I’d forgotten all about it.”
“Well, let’s call it a night here and I can take you home and refresh your memory.” He looked round the room and caught Marty’s eye. “I hate to love you and leave you, guys, but it’s kinda been a long tour and I’m ready for bed. So Casey and I are gonna split. Marty, I’ll call you in the morning and we’ll talk more, okay?”
“Sure.” Marty waved a hand in Fisher’s direction and turned back to the blonde in killer heels he’d been talking to. I had the feeling she was the band’s publicist, but for the life of me I couldn’t recall her name. Not that it mattered. Fisher was done with all things Jagged Edge, at least for the next couple of weeks, and I intended to enjoy every minute of the time we had together to the full.
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