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All Fired Up
(Black Halo Unplugged #2)
Madelynne Ellis
Mischief
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers
77–85 Fulham Palace Road,
Hammersmith, London W6 8JB
An eBook Original 2014
Copyright © Madelynne Ellis 2014
Madelynne Ellis asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Ebook Edition © 2014 ISBN: 9780008123994
Version: 2014-12-13
Contents
Copyright
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
More from Mischief
Author’s Note
About the Publisher
Five years earlier …
‘I’ve done it, guys. That music exec has agreed to meet us. We’re playing for him tomorrow morning, nine-thirty sharp.’
The mumbled replies of ‘Yeah’ and ‘Cool’ were not the responses Iain had envisaged for all his hard work. He’d sweated his butt off to get them this break, and it was a big thing. If everything went well tomorrow, and there was no goddamned reason why it shouldn’t, then he and the rest of Love Rocket were made. The bigwig from the record label had already seen them perform live, so he knew that they could play and had star potential. Tomorrow would be about working out the details and selling them to the rest of his team. This was a small label, but it would get them out there in front of audiences, bigger audiences than they could muster playing the university scene, and in turn that would hopefully boost them into the spotlight.
Iain realised this wasn’t going to make them an overnight success, but it would give them a solid boost up the ladder of superstardom he had pinned to his wardrobe door.
‘Where’s Ash?’ he asked, noticing that his lead guitarist was absent. Ash would be totally stoked about this, and unlike the rest of the guys – who, Iain saw as he glanced around the room, were beginning to look expendable – he was essential to this deal. Iain might be the motivating force, but Ash was their primary selling point.
Ashley Ryan had been born to rock. He looked every inch the rock star he was so obviously destined to become: black hair that shrouded his face, a lean physique corded with muscles, and two baby-blue eyes that could magic the panties off chicks from a hundred paces. Their fan base had tripled overnight after the first time he joined them on stage. What made things more interesting was that Ash, beneath the grungy image, was about as clean-cut as you could get. His only stumbling block was his girlfriend, Connie, for whom he’d do anything. Correction, had been prepared to do anything, until she ceremoniously dumped him last week. Thank you, Jesus!
‘He’s not mooning over Connie’s departure again, is he?’
‘Whaa–?’ Tom remarked, his eyes never leaving the TV screen, into which his games machine was permanently wired. Guitar Hero he certainly wasn’t. ‘There’s a letter for you on the corkboard.’
Biting back an expression
