Her Second Chance Wolf by Ariana Hawkes EPUB & PDF – eBook Details
- Author: Ariana Hawkes
- Language: English
- Formats: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Available for Download
- Series: None
- Price: Free
- File Size: 1 MB
Come see Umbilicus play at the Lowdown Bar!” I thrust a flyer at a
guy with a long, yellowish beard and a biker gang vest.
“What?” He snatches it up and examines it, before shoving it back at me
in disgust. “I’d rather tongue-kiss your grandma, Skinny Minnie.”
“Heh, heh, heh,” he cackles, swaggering into the venue.
Prick. I roll my eyes. I’ve been dealing with similar bullshit all night
long. My boss has tasked me with dropping flyers outside what looks like an
old school biker bar, while the band I’m promo-ing is pure emo. I tried to tell
him, but he didn’t listen, like always. And the best part is, these flyers contain
discount codes, and if at least twenty percent of them don’t get returned, then
it’s my fault and I’m out of a job.
This really sucks. I’m good at promo. I might even humbly say I’m the
best promo chick in the county. For reasons:
Number one—I’m lightning-fast and scrappy as hell. Shrug. I’m a crow.
Two—I love music. Live gigs especially. The buzz, the energy. The
tortured daydreams that I could be the one onstage instead.
And three—I’m ambitious. I need to make money right now. A ton of it.
Which is why I can’t just tell my boss to go screw himself.
Someone I care about a lot is sick, and I need to help pay for her to see
specialists. Carolyn runs the kitchen at my main job—tending bar at Sinner’s
Refuge—and she and her sister Meredith are like family to me. A while back,
Carolyn came down with some mysterious neurological disorder. Shifters
don’t often get sick, and no one can figure out what’s wrong with her. We’re
real worried. Meredith keeps taking her to see different doctors around the
country, and I figure the best thing I can do is earn as much money as I can.
So, here I am, trying to sell emo music to bikers.
The door of the venue swings open, and—whoa, what is that noise?
A ton of awful wailing and screeching guitars assaults my ears.
It’s literally the worst band I’ve heard in my life. Are they tone deaf? It
sounds like a banshee being tortured at the bottom of a well, while someone
steps on a cat’s tail—in slow motion.
Don’t get me wrong, I love experimental music, unusual vocals, but this
is just bad.
I give a shudder as the door closes again. Even I can sing better than that
Well, I could if no one had to see me. If I could sing from backstage, or
the restroom or something, while they put a pretty chick on the stage to lipsynch the vocals for me.
I snicker to myself. Right, Elinor. I’m sure there’s plenty of call for that.
Record companies will be falling over themselves to sign the weird-looking
chick and her socially-acceptable stand-in—
And who on earth is in such a rush to get in there?
I watch as a guy hurtles out of the darkness, heading right at me. He’s
tall, dark, and he looks as mad as hell.
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