Candy: Sex & Drugs & Rock 'n Roll, #1

By Caddy Rowland

Have you ever been haunted by a song?

In December of 2015, I watched the official video for the song, Candy, by Iggy Pop, once again. I found myself replaying it several times. Something about it triggered all kinds of disturbing, creepy ideas. A story began to take shape in my head.

Once it did, the story wouldn't leave me alone.

So here it is.

                                                                            -Caddy Rowland, Author

Lonely misfit Connor Reed has lots of liabilities. His mother is a religious fanatic. They live in a shack. Everyone in town thinks he's dirt.

But Connor also has advantages. A dream so urgent he can't let it go. A sexy girlfriend named Candy. And, man, can he play guitar.

He's also criminally insane.

• Language: English
• Publisher: CFR Publishing
• Release date: Jan 24, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386775607

Caddy Rowland

The drama of humanity. We live, die, love, hate, win and lose in a never-ending variety of ways. Often those ways are heart-wrenching. Other times they are not. Why do people make the choices they do? Why do some abuse power? How do the powerless learn to survive? Why do a few dare to be different, while others conform—and why are so many disturbed by those who don't? These are the questions that have always haunted author Caddy Rowland. Those questions keep her pounding away at her keyboard, creating novels showcasing the sublime joy and bitter tragedy of being human. Caddy has always been a nonconformist. She likes to push the proverbial envelope when it comes to characterization and world building. Heroes have warts; villains have soft spots. Main characters don't always learn their lessons because all too often we don't, either. There isn't always a happy ending, but sometimes there is. Otherwise she'd be predictable. She writes for readers who like to think and feel; who like their stories to be raw, graphic, unpredictable, "real" and sometimes brutal. For readers who like their boundaries challenged; to be shown how rarely life decisions are truly black and white, but instead shades of grey. Think of a carnival midway with books instead of rides. She asks you make sure you're the minimum height if you plan on riding alone. You must also leave prejudices and inhibitions behind the entry gate. If you can’t, Rowland's reads might be a tad much for you. Don't worry. There are plenty of safer reads out there. Just step out of the line and find a more appropriate book for your reading enjoyment. No, Caddy Rowland's novels aren't for everyone. But then again, they just might be for you. Sign up for new book release information by copying and pasting this in your browser: http://eepurl.com/rfjaX

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Candy

By Caddy Rowland

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This book is dedicated to James Osterberg, Jr/Iggy Pop. Thank you for the inspiration—not to mention all the great music.

Acknowledgments

I’d like to also formally thank the following people and companies who helped me make this book possible:

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Candy

Words and Music by Iggy Pop

Copyright © 1990 BMG Bumblebee

All rights administered by BMG Rights Management (US) LLC

All Rights Reserved Used by Permission

Reprinted by Permission of Hal Leonard LLC

Cover Design

Pholk Media

Editors, proofers, and Alpha/Beta readers. Especially Elayne, for going the extra mile, because you know how much this book means to me.

My husband, Dave, who has gone through crazy with me several times now, every time I get a novel ready for publishing. You’re more patient than a saint, and I’m extremely lucky to have you as a partner.

My readers. You are the reason I do this. Thank you.

Author’s Note and Disclaimer

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I watched the video of Iggy Pop’s song, Candy, once again back in late 2015. The lyrics and accompanying video made such an impact on me I had to replay it several times.

I began waking up in the night, thinking about the story I saw whenever I watched. Being a writer of psychological thrillers, you can imagine the disturbing imagery that woke me.

Those images ran through my head over and over for several days, until I finally decided I had to write it. There was really no choice.

The story I find in this song and video is only my interpretation. It’s drawn from my imagination, hammered into my brain from the words, voice, and video that seemed to demand I write this book.

I want to stress I mean no disrespect for whatever the song means to the artist. I have only the deepest love and respect for Iggy Pop aka Jim Osterberg, Jr.

But this need! It wouldn’t leave me alone. I hope he would understand the urgency I felt to tell my own interpretation.

I start the story with the lyrics from the song. I do hope you give the song a listen, check out the video, perhaps buy an Iggy Pop album or two, and give the man some love.

Here is the link to the official video for Candy, by Iggy Pop. Watching it will make the story have deeper impact. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6bLOjmY—TA

-Caddy Rowland, Author.

Prologue

I guess the proper thing to do would be to introduce myself. After all, we’ll be spending a good amount of time together.

Funny thing is, everyone has heard of me. A few of you know me.

All of you fear me.

I’m not a being, nor am I definable. I simply am.

Oh, people try to define me. The attempts always make me laugh. But, hey, I admire their efforts.

Put it this way. You’ve heard of the great I Am?

Well, consider me another great I Am. Only this one is the relative no one wants to admit letting in their door. In fact, no one willingly grants me access.

Most times I sneak in through an open window in their mind. Once in a great while, I’m there before they hit the birth canal.

And, only rarely, I storm the door, send it flying off its hinges, taking the hostage so quickly others may not realize it’s happened—even when the result is standing right in front of ‘em.

But make no mistake. Once I’ve arrived, there just ain’t much you can do about it.

It’s nothing personal.

It can’t be.

I don’t have feelings.

How can I? I’m not a being, remember?

A shake of the dice. A contortion of genetics. A burp of fucked-up DNA. Some say brain chemistry gone renegade.

So.

Ding dong.

You know what’s calling.

Or maybe not.

But you will, soon enough.

Candy

I

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It's a rainy afternoon

In nineteen-ninety

The big city

Geez, it's been twenty years

Candy, you were so fine

Beautiful, beautiful girl from the north

You burned my heart with a flickering torch

I had a dream that no one else could see

You gave me love for free

Candy, Candy, Candy I can't let you go

All my life you're haunting me, I loved you so

Candy, Candy, Candy I can't let you go

Life is crazy

Candy, baby

Yeah, well it hurt me real bad when you left

Hey, I'm glad you got out, but I miss you

I've had a hole in my heart for so long

I've learned to fake it and just smile along

Down on the street

Those men are all the same

I need a love

Not games

Not games

Candy, Candy, Candy I can't let you go

All my life you're haunting me, I loved you so

Candy, Candy, Candy I can't let you go

Life is crazy

I know, baby

Candy, baby

You-you-you, Candy, Candy, Candy, I can't let you go

All my life you're haunting me, I loved you so

Candy, Candy, Candy, life is crazy

Candy, baby

-Iggy Pop

As he strummed his guitar, Connor breathed in the sweet scent of honeysuckle permeating the air. Life was good. He felt safe here, kept away from the noise and heartache of the city streets. It was a good thing he’d decided to check into this hotel. He’d desperately needed the rest.

This place, this manicured garden area, was his quiet spot. Here he could play his guitar, working on new songs for when he got back into the frantic pace of the real world. He’d written some damn fine songs, if he did say so himself.

This time, they’d have to notice him. There was no way they could turn their back on lyrics so poignant, music so pure.

His stomach tightened. He’d be leaving very soon.

Was he really ready?

He looked around the garden, suddenly unsure.

What if they laughed at him again?

He automatically began playing his next song. It was the song he knew would take him to the top. Other people had never understood his dream, but he always had. And someday, someday, the world would love Connor Reed.

When they did, he’d be the one laughing. They’d laughed at him a lot. Not anymore. Now he was ready. All he had to do was pack up and walk away.

Calmed, he continued to play his guitar and sing, his deep voice strong and sure.

Any day now.

Any day.

Shannon looked out the lead glass window from the second floor, frowning. This was her first day as a nurse at Sweetwater, a psychiatric hospital located about sixty miles from Atlanta. So far the patients she’d met hadn’t disturbed her. After all, she’d been trained for dealing with severe mental illness.

But what was that man doing in the garden?

Turning, she asked, The man sitting out there—is he having some kind of seizure? Her worried expression made Sara hurry over and glance out.

Oh. Him. No, he’s not having a seizure. He’s fine.

But his hands appear to be jerking, his head is shaking...are you sure he’s okay?

Sara made a face. Connor is doing the same thing he’s done every day since he arrived here twenty years ago. He’s singing, and he thinks he’s playing a guitar.

A guitar?

Yes. He was a wannabe who went over the edge. Never even had a band that went anywhere, I guess. From what I’ve been told, everyone always thought he was off. Now he sits in the garden and plays air guitar.

Wow. That’s really sad. Shannon continued to watch Connor, her eyes full of compassion.

Not really. Not if you knew his story. And you will, soon enough. Connor will be one of yours. Don’t you have a meeting to go over your patient’s backgrounds in five minutes?

I do. I better get down there.

Sara nodded. You don’t want to be late. Not on your first day. By the time you walk out of the meeting, something tells me you won’t feel so bad for Connor.

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∎∎

The dank, mildew smell of basement was something Connor never got used to. It sank into everything: his mattress, the sheets, even the pillow he rested his head on. His clothes reeked of it, too. Just one more thing people at school teased him about.

Even so, at least sleeping in the basement gave him privacy. Anything to get away from his mother and her judgmental, glaring eyes. Hopefully not even her precious Jesus could see him way down here in the dimly lit area he’d made his room.

He’d put up posters of rock stars to spruce things up. Every one of them held a guitar in their hands. Some were rocking out, some were looking off in the distance while their slender fingers strummed the guitar. Others were simply holding the instrument tenderly, their hands lovingly caressing the neck. They knew who their real lover was.

Connor stared at a poster, deep in thought. 1970. Only six more months before he’d graduate from high school. So far, the year had sucked about as bad as the 60’s.

The only bright light had been the release of The Stooge’s Fun House album. It was way different from their first album, The Stooges, released back in August of the previous year. It was even rawer, more brutally unchained. He loved it.

Earth to Connor.

Turning his head, Connor gave Candy a slow, easy smile. I’m here.

Now. You weren’t here a minute ago.

Sorry. I was just daydreaming.

About when you become a rock star? Her huge, innocent blue eyes peered into his, belief shining through.

That and the Stooges. He laughed. I’m almost always dreaming about being a rock star.

Candy stretched, her perky, young breasts straining against the thin fabric of her new black T-shirt. Connor had spray painted the name of the band MC5 on the front of it. She settled back against the mattress, seemingly ignorant of the musty smell. You’ll make it, you know. I’ve always thought so.

I know. He traced a finger along her fragile jawline. How had he gotten so lucky to have a girlfriend as fine as Candy? Sure, she was only fifteen, but she looked at least eighteen. Those breasts were perky, and quite large. Add her huge eyes, full lips, and flowing red hair and you were looking at a package of dynamite.

And the dynamite appeared to be all his.

He kissed her tenderly, almost afraid he might break her. Or make her disappear. After all, nothing much good had come his way so far. She might only be an apparition.

You’re the only one who’s ever believed in me. His lips pressed against her ear as his husky, deep whisper stated, The only one. Not even my mom believes in me.

Candy reached up and pulled Connor’s mouth back to hers. Doesn’t matter. You’ll make it regardless of what others say. In spite of everything. I—I love you, Connor.

His heart almost broke from the simple beauty of those words. I love you, Connor. Had he ever heard anyone say they loved him before? Thinking, he tried to remember if his mother ever had. Not that he could recall. Not as if she meant it at any rate, and only then if he asked.

He swallowed, trying to rid his throat of the lump which had suddenly appeared there. I love you, too, Candy. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m so glad you moved here from Michigan. I was alone until you showed up.

I’m glad, too, because you’re everything to me. She kissed his eyes, moving to his nose, which she gently nipped. "I can’t wait until you make it big. Just think. In a few years it’ll be your poster on the walls of others with dreams. She frowned. Probably on a lot of girl’s walls, too."

He laughed, deep and joyful. You think?

Yeah. I do.

Hmmm. Wonder how it’ll feel, knowing I’m in so many bedrooms.

You’ll probably get a big head and all.

Never. And I’ll come back for you, baby. When I make it, I’ll be back.

Promise?

The mattress sagged as he shifted to get closer. "I promise. You have school to finish. If I’m not making enough money to support us both by that time, well, then you can get a jump on your singing career by finding a jazz band to gig with in downtown Atlanta. I might need that extra year to build up a little cash for us.

If so, by that time I’ll be able to come visit a few times. It’s not perfect, but time will go fast. You’ll save what you can from singing, I’ll save, too. Before you know it, we’ll be living together in L.A. up in the hills, with our own pool and everything. You’ll not even be twenty yet, and already living like a queen. My queen, and I’ll worship you day and night.

Candy’s eyes grew distant as he watched her consider their future. Coming back to the present, she snuggled closer. Wow. Maybe we’ll even swim nude.

Maybe.

Moving gracefully, Candy pulled her T-shirt over her head, unclasping her black bra at the same time. Wanna touch them again?

Sure. Leaning on one elbow, Connor reached out, running his finger along her nipple.

Candy shivered.

Cold? Connor’s huge brown eyes had become intense, his pupils dilating.

No. Excited. Your finger rubbing my nipple feels good.

Connor leaned forward, putting his mouth on her right nipple. Sucking, he used his tongue to tease the bud, as his other hand played with the other breast. He just couldn’t get enough of those beautiful, firm tits.

Ohhhh.

Christ, but he was hard. Every time he was with Candy his dick ached so badly he thought he’d go insane. But he’d never had her. As much as he wanted to make her completely his, he was afraid if he tried to take her she’d run away.

He couldn’t imagine life without Candy. Not until he was graduated, paying his dues in L.A. Though he’d miss her, the band would keep him busy. Even then she’d be constantly on his mind. As soon as he could, he’d come back.

But for now, he had to deal with his yearning dick and blue balls. She was too young. He’d have to wait.

Candy’s hands slipped under Connor’s Stooges T-shirt, peeling it off once he disconnected his pouty lips from her breasts. He had painted Iggy and his band on the shirt, along with ‘The Stooges’. The likeness of each guy was impressive. He practically lived in the shirt since painting it. Pulling him to her, she rubbed her tits against his chest, purring.

God, Cons, you’re so strong. I love the muscles in your chest and arms.

You do, huh? Glad I do pull-ups and push-ups down here then. Wouldn’t want you disappointed.

You’ll never disappoint me. Running her hands over his biceps, she asked, How many do you do every day?

Three hundred and thirty-six of each. I divide it up into three times during the day.

Why that number? I mean, I’d think it would be one hundred, one-fifty, or something.

Connor stiffened. I just happen to like the number three hundred and thirty-six. That’s all.

Does it mean something special?

Anger flashed in his eyes, but it was gone before she noticed.  Nope. Means nothing at all.

She hesitated, then began to unzip his jeans.

Connor’s breath hitched. Was she really undoing his pants? God, if she touched it he might explode right then and there. Plus, his cock was pretty big. He knew that from seeing the other guys in gym class. Even soft, his was longer. What if she was grossed out by it, or bolted?

He put out a hand, stopping her. Don’t.

Candy raised her brow. Don’t? Why not? I want to touch it.

I-well, you’re only fifteen.

And so? I love you, Connor.

Still. We should wait.

Laughing, Candy reached to her own jeans, tugging them down, along with her black silk thong. She’d bought the thing for this occasion, but now she wasn’t interested in teasing. She wanted the real thing. She wanted Connor, all of him, inside her, making her his.

Touch it, she whispered.

Connor’s eyes were really intense now. He stared at her dark red pubic hair, watching in amazement as she slid her legs apart. As she bent her knees, Candy’s most private parts were exposed to his fascinated eyes. She looked wet, pink, and fragile.

Touch it, she repeated.

I—are you sure? Did this glorious girl really want him to touch her there? Didn’t she know everyone else found him laughable?

Of course I’m sure. I wouldn’t have peeled my jeans off if I wasn’t sure.

Connor reached out and slid his finger along the wetness. She felt like satin. When she didn’t move away, he became braver. Getting onto his stomach between her legs, he got up close and personal. Spreading her lips he saw for the first time what a female looked like in detail. He stuck his tongue out, gingerly going for a taste.

When his tongue made the connection, Candy gasped. Oh, God! Cons, lick on it. I think that would make me crazy.

He flicked his tongue against her, increasing the speed as Candy’s breathing became faster. Connor slid his finger inside her, instinctively moving it in and out. God, she was so tight! Would he even fit in there when it was time?

I want you to make love to me.

Connor’s body tensed. Don’t tease me, he growled, looking up.

I’m not. I want you. I want to really be yours.

I don’t have a condom.

I’m on the pill. I have been for a month.

He looked at her in astonishment. How did you get your parents to be okay with you going on the pill?

She shrugged. My parents were beatniks back when they were young. They’re about as open-minded as they come. The hippies had nothing on them.

Still, as young as you are, I’m surprised.

They just said they didn’t want me getting pregnant and ruining my future.

Okay, but what about diseases like syphilis and stuff? You don’t know what I might have.

Candy laughed. Seriously? You worry about syphilis, when I’m offering sex? She rolled her eyes. How many girls have you been with?

Flushing dark red, Connor admitted, None. You know what everyone thinks of me. Not exactly the kind of thoughts that turn most girls on.

"Well, you turn me on. And I’ve never done it, either. So we don’t have to worry about syphilis."

I know. I just don’t want you to think I’m using you. You know, the senior in high school shagging the young freshman. They already talk.

Yes, they do. Since we’re convicted, let’s do the crime, you know?

His dick was now pounding at his zipper. How could he have gotten so lucky as to have a girlfriend like Candy? Not only someone beautiful, but someone who believed in him.

Hands shaking, Connor unzipped and pushed his pants down around his knees. His erection stuck out brazenly, daring Candy to take a good look.

Holy shit, she breathed.

It’s big, isn’t it? He was proud of his cock, and wanted her to know she should be, too.

It’s huge.

Changing your mind?

Candy swallowed hard. No. Just—will you kiss me a little while first? And go slow when you, you know, do it?

Sure. Moving on top of her, he kept his weight on his arms as he leaned down and captured her mouth with his own.

As he kissed her, he moved so his cock was running along her wetness, letting her get used to the idea of him being so close and intimate. A few minutes later, he broke off the kiss, preparing to take her.

Here we go, he