Crimson Melodies

By Grace Harper

Donovan Dreamboat Carter's ambition in life wasn't to become the lead singer of the band Maverick. His plan to move to Brighton to assist his aunt run a halfway house was to get away from his past. He'd finished his degree, had the skills to help his aunt. Life for him would be settled.
When he saw Alex Devlin, lead singer of the globally successful rock band, Fragile, peeling carrots at his aunt’s kitchen sink, he faltered on the threshold.
His knew with certainty that his life would change forever.
Leia Bryant, the internationally famous supermodel, has the world at her feet. However, her agent thinks otherwise and systematically drops her from all her campaigns, citing Leia is too old to model.
Devastated that she is now unable to walk down the best Milan runways, Leia is surprised when Red & Black record label want to meet her. After a single meeting, Leia is cosseted into the family of the record label. But, it’s her passionate encounter with Donovan Carter that changes her life forever.
Leia resists Donovan's crazy idea of dating, telling him she is too old for him. A decade younger than Leia, Donovan doesn't see what the problem could be.
She sets the rules and is only prepared to have a fling, keep it quiet from the public, just a bit of fooling around. The plan is going well until one of them falls in love.
Then both their lives change forever.
Maverick quickly reach stardom, but at what cost? Especially as Donovan replaced the previous lead singer of Maverick, Casey Lowe, much to Casey's aggravation. They knew each other a long time ago.
Old wounds split open. There is more than one man out for revenge. Whose lives are about to change again?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Grace Harper
• Release date: Oct 1, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463634400

Grace Harper

British author who loves to write about strong women and handsome men. She writes steamy romance novels that will warm your heart. Writer of the Brodie Saga and the Geary Series, Grace immerses you in stories of love, or rather, love's pursuit to bring together two people who were meant for each other. It's not always quick or easy but it will happen eventually. When Grace is not writing, she can be found mooching about in stationery stores. Grace might have a Maltesers addiction but is not ready to stand up and own that just yet. Sign up to Grace's newsletter: http://eepurl.com/5-eXX Like Grace at Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/GraceHarperR... Follow Grace on Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorGHarper Visit Grace's Website: https://authorgraceharper.wordpress.com/

Book preview

1

Leia

I paced the living room of my home, long strides eating up the rug while I waited for Carol Vindall, my agent, to quit talking to get a word in edgeways. The large cobweb caught my attention from the corner of the high vaulted ceiling, mocking me with the prospect of a spider lurking near. Ignoring the empty threat of an extra from Arachnophobia I opened and closed my mouth when I thought I could speak. Only to clamp my lips closed again when the clipped south London accent prattled on about Paris fashion week. She was pitching to me like I had never been. She continued to speak to me like I had never walked down the catwalks for ten years straight. After a solid ten minutes, Carol broke the news that I wasn’t invited this year. She then carried on, saying Starlight, the hundred year old high street fashion chain wouldn’t be renewing my contract next month.

I looked around for the camera. Was this a hilarious prank?

Double whammy. Carol talked about how great I’d been, how much I was loved. All past tense, nothing she said was present tense. Most of my life over the last fifteen years had been in front of a camera.

Not anymore, it seemed.

I stopped mid-stride, when Carol talked about her newest model. I couldn’t give a fuck about Helen and how youthful she appeared. My sister, Margo, looked up from the sofa, her mug of coffee midway to her mouth like she was watching her favourite soap opera. Margo had been staying with me for the last three months while she worked on an assignment for her job in London. Her home was in Australia, in a house three doors down from my parents. At some stage Margo had silenced the TV, I could see the remote balanced on her knee. For a moment I had a pang of jealousy that Margo could sit in the lotus position for hours and not get pins and needles in her legs. She looked at me, expectant that I would be chosen to go to Paris by one of the top fashion house designers and this was the call. I had been waiting for the phone to ring for weeks. We were both on standby on the house phone, in case Carol couldn’t get through on my mobile. I should have known after the last three phone calls from my agent telling me that my contracts hadn’t renewed, that this wouldn’t be good news.

Shame ripped through me. Nothing more shameful than being told you’re too old to model clothes aimed at women my age. I could officially say that thirty-three is the time to die in the fashion modelling world.

Say that again? I asked Carol in such a tone, I expected a reprimand for my rudeness.

Margo gave me a sideways glance and placed her mug on the uneven wooden coffee table. She rose to stand at my side. As Carol kept talking about my career like I hadn’t lived it, I gazed across the living room into the open dining room. I loved this house. It was a shame that I hadn’t spent more than three days in a row living in it.

I bought the old Victorian house for cash after my debut fashion spread in a sports car magazine. That editorial had projected me into the stratosphere. As soon as I saw the house, I fell in love with it. What I didn’t realise was that I wouldn’t be living in it very much.

The main issue I had after I’d bought and decorated the three-storey house in south London was that I couldn’t bear to be on my own. Throughout my life, I had been in a noisy environment. My parents owned a boarding house for the live-in students attached to a private school. Then I went to University and lived in student accommodation with a hundred other students. My university life was short lived, and soon I was modelling on catwalks all over the world. I took work wherever I got it, because the silence was too loud in the house.

I’m dropped, just like that? Did they give a reason? I squawked down the phone to Carol.

I gazed through glassy eyes at my sister whose arms hugged me around my waist while I continued to listen. Margo rested her head on my shoulder. While I squeezed her free hand.

Nodding at whatever Carol was telling me, I could barely speak. Tears threatened but didn’t spill over, I refused to let them.

I understand, I said and ended the call.

With my arms limp at my sides, I welcomed the cuddle from Margo.

Well, I said. That’s my last campaign gone. I’m officially too old for catwalk modelling and now high street chain lingerie. My career is over, might as well organise my funeral now.

I had a flair for sarcasm, never could bite my tongue.

You’re not too old, is that what Carol said? Margo asked, leading me to the sofa and passing a hot mug of tea into my hands.

"Yep, that’s what she said. Starlight wants to use a younger model for their new autumn lingerie range, and I’m not it. I’ve been their face for ten years, and now they’re not renewing my contract."

I’m so sorry, Margo said.

I’ve no more steady modelling work. Just a dried up prune, who nobody wants to see in front of a camera anymore.

Taking a large gulp of tea, I puffed out my cheeks with the liquid and pouted.

That’s not true, Margo said hiding a snigger.

A smile edged across my face after I swallowed the tea, laughing along with my sister.

You’ve got that meeting tomorrow at that record label, Red & Black. You’ll get the job. And you’re not a dried up old prune, I’d love to have your smooth skin, Margo said.

They won’t take me when they know I’m no longer a supermodel.

The career I had a month ago had gone from New York and Paris catwalks to nothing, overnight. I could blame my Agent and her lack of effort over the last year to get me new contracts. One day they booked me solid for a year and then the next I was out on my arse, ostracised. But, it was no one’s fault apart from my date of birth. At thirty-three I had three more years than the average model, and in my heart, I knew this time would come.

Didn’t stop it hurting like a bitch.

Well don’t tell them. The record label wants to meet you for you. Unless they ask, don’t volunteer the information, Margo said, sipping on her black coffee. Do you know what the meeting is about?

Not really, it didn’t come from Carol, the label emailed me. Asked for a meeting, all very mysterious.

I bet it is to appear in a video for Maverick. They are hot as hell, all of them. I’d like to spend a night with Donovan Carter, he is all kinds of sexy. Margo sighed through her words.

You’re married to the most perfect man in the world, I commented.

Doesn’t stop me admiring another man, sis.

Margo had moved to the armchair to grab her phone to bring up Maverick’s latest song. The music blared out of the speaker. The guys in the band were a little young for me but were a similar age to Margo.

Dreamboat Donovan, Margo said in her moony voice when the track finished, and it went on to their next song on the streaming service. "One journalist in the UK’s biggest online music website had dubbed him a dreamboat when she’d first reviewed a Maverick gig."

Margo handed me her phone. Donovan was gorgeous with a baby face, had the whole James Dean, dipped chin look. He was too young for me, Margo was welcome to him.

You can have Donovan, Maybe I could have Terrance Lane, he is all kinds of bad, she said. Margo stared at her phone, no doubt gazing into the baby blue eyes of Terrance. He’s on the rampage at the moment, fresh from his divorce. What was the woman thinking?

You’re winding me up, to get me to bite.

This was Margo’s trick when we were kids, to get me to confess something I didn’t want to. Maverick had been all over MTV in the last six months after they’d changed their front man. No one could escape from them if they were anywhere near the internet.

If I bump into them, I’ll tell them that my sister is their biggest fan, I said.

That perked Margo up, she uncurled her long legs and inched to the edge of the sofa. Flicking her chocolate brown braid over her shoulder, she stared at me.

There she is, the sister who assumes she is going to get every job. Knew she was in there somewhere. You’re going to knock them dead. Then you can date Donovan, see if he’s as squeaky clean as he looks. I bet he fucks like a champ.

I’ll do my best. I tried to keep my voice bright.

Seriously, Leia, are you ok? Here I am salivating over two of the hottest pop stars of the moment, and you’ve just had the worst news.

Yeah, I’ll get over it, maybe I’ll go back to Uni and finish my degree, I said and collected the empty mugs.

That’s a great idea, finish the business degree, before you got mega famous

Not sure it would be appropriate now. I don’t have any desire to run a business.

Oh yeah, Leia’s Fashion House.

That was before I became a model and saw the other side to running a fashion emporium. Don’t think I have the money or the stamina for what it takes.

You are the most hardworking woman I know. You’d make it to the top in no time, Margo said.

Thanks, sis, I’ll give it some thought over the next few months.

I took the mugs into the kitchen, swilled the contents down the sink and put them in the dishwasher. I loved this house, not just because I owned it, but it was a creaking old lady of a house. It had survived two world wars, not a scratch from any of the bombings.  I had the top floor. The open attic stretched the whole depth of the house. At the back of the room, overlooking the landscaped gardens, I had built an outdoor bathroom. On those rare warm summer evenings, I soaked in the bath, looking at the stars. The architect had designed glass walls and ceilings, and using the existing fireplace, in the winter months I could still see the stars and pretend it was summer.

Leaving Margo to Facetime her husband, I crept up the stairs to my sanctuary to find what I would wear for the interview tomorrow. Erin Devlin, one owner and who had written to me, hadn’t given me very much to go on, apart from they wanted me to appear in an advertising campaign for one of their artists. Margo had assumed it was for Maverick but according to their website, they managed solo artists and bands. It could be for any of them or someone who they’d not made public yet. Of the ten artists they had on their website, most of them had become popular in the last year. The record label dominated the streaming charts, according to Millennial Music Magazine.  Their top journalist, Megan Moreland, had made it her mission over the last six months to report everything that Red & Black’s label did.

When Erin had emailed me a few weeks ago to ask if I would come to their record label for a chat, I set about learning all that I could about the label. I didn’t need to go anywhere else that Megan’s website page. Her bio picture showed a statuesque woman, a cartoon caricature. She would be any designer’s dream, but I suspected that Megan was older than me and would only have the same fate.

All of my clothes were on open rails under the slope of the attic wall. Years of swiping hangers on a metal rail kept the habit alive when I moved in. Having wardrobes with doors seemed to be more effort than needed. I wanted to see all of my clothes at the same time to make dressing easier. Each rail held different clothing. The shirt rail was calling me, a dozen white shirts mocked me from the corner. They were my standard go see shirts for designers and agencies. I loved a decent tailored white shirt. I had great tits even for thirty-three. With long legs, a tiny flare of hips and a short torso, jeans and a shirt with high heeled ankle boots showed a designer everything he needed to see. I hoped this worked with Erin and Red & Black. Judging by the look in her eye on her website, I knew she would be a woman I would admire. I hoped she liked the look of me and didn’t ask too many questions.

2

Leia

Margo: Are you there yet?

Me: No, I saw you ten minutes ago

The journey to Brighton took an hour by train, and then a taxi ride out to the business premises. Red & Black based their headquarters in a mansion, in the middle of nowhere. Brighton was filled with the same looking houses as mine. Four and five storey houses, on terraced streets. If they were anything like mine, the homes used to have whole families living in them two hundred years ago but now were split into flats. When I gave the address to the taxi driver, he told me it would be a half hour drive and to get comfortable.

Driving along the gravel path to the mansion and across the car park, my mouth was open with awe at the architecture of the old building. Maybe in my previous life, I lived in the 1800s and owned a house like mine when it was brand new. They drew me in, fascinated me to the point I wanted to scour every inch of the place. I’d hoped to find a hidden box of letters in my house and discover a mystery from years gone by, but never did.

I paid the driver and stood looking up at the large windows, craning my neck back, scanning the rooms and the gargoyles that protected the building. A woman waved from the window to my left, she had a handsome man stood to her right who nodded in my direction. It was difficult to tell who they were as the sun glinted off the leaded windows. I waved back and ducked in through the main door to reception.

I’m here to meet with Erin Devlin, my name is Leia Bryant, I said to the girl behind the desk.

I know who you are, Ms Bryant, I’m a big fan. It’s great that you agreed to the meeting, I hope you say yes to what they’re proposing, the young girl said.

Her nose ring glinted in the overhead light, making her nose look cute. She rounded the desk where I could see her short blue tartan over thick white tights. I was sweltering in my light jacket, I couldn’t imagine how warm she would be in her thick roll neck white jumper. It was April but felt like summer.

I’m Becky, if you need anything at all while you’re here, let me know, she said over her shoulder.

Leading the way through the corridors, we passed recording studios and what sounded like a kitchen. Turning the corner, I was met with a glass-walled meeting room. On one side of the glass table sat four very recognisable faces. I was only expecting to meet with Erin.

Becky held the door open for me to walk through and left me standing on the other side.

Hi, I said.

My meek voice betraying the intimidation I felt.

I was a massive fan of Fragile and to see two of the band members on the other side of the table. Shaking their hands felt surreal. Seb introduced me to his fiancé, Tara, who looked heavily pregnant, and I greeted Erin last.

I wasn’t expecting to see all four of you, I’m delighted to meet you all, I said in a more firm tone.

We thought we would come in numbers to persuade you to say yes, Erin offered first.

Grateful for the glass and a pitcher of water, I poured myself a drink and listened to their idea. Erin wasted no time telling me their plan and when she finished, there was a hushed silence for a few moments until Tara groaned. Seb immediately checked she wasn’t going into labour and then stood behind Tara to rub her shoulders. While I watched the love dance back and forth between them, I felt a spike of envy. I had given up any hope of finding a decent man to marry, spending too many years on the road and never in one city for longer than a week. Having a holiday was a luxury. There was always another sought-after modelling job that I knew would dry up one day. I figured I would sleep when my contracts stopped. Now that I had the chance to take time off, the hottest record label in music was offering me a starring role in a music video for Maverick. I was to be Donovan’s love interest, a story that spanned eighty years in a six-minute video. My first thought was that Margo would be pissed off when she found out what they expected me to do with Dreamboat Donovan. I hoped she forgave me because I was saying yes to this job.

Me: They want me to kiss Donovan

Margo: SAY YES

How far along are you, Tara? I asked to distract my attention away from my overzealous sister and her constant stream of GIFs of pop video kisses.

I’m due any minute, it could happen at any moment, Leia. The twins are kicking the hell out of my bladder, and I will give them their first telling off as soon as I give birth. I swear they already know how to bicker and fight like proper siblings.

I laughed at her comment, nodding.

I have six siblings, I can relate.

Six, Seb said. Don’t get any ideas, his comment was aimed at Tara.

You know how babies are made, right?

Do you think you’d be able to fit us in? Erin asked, dragging her eyes away from the enormous pregnant woman to her left. Deftly, changing the subject. Her hand was flat on her friend’s belly rubbing in large circles. We want you as soon as possible, but I’m guessing you’re booked out.

I winced at her comment and regained my composure.

What was that look? Erin asked. Are you going to tell us we must wait a year for you?

The words spilt out of my mouth. The opposite, actually. I finished my last commitments with my agency last week. I have free time on my hands so can film whenever you want.

Holy fuck, really? Erin shrieked. Are you really saying yes?

Yes, I’m in if you think I’m right for the role.

The camera will love you. Donovan will love you, you are perfect for him, Erin said.

Are you fixing him up? Alex said to his wife.

You know what I mean, they’ll get on so well, it will be perfect, Erin said to Alex. You will be perfect, she turned to me. We’d like to start in the next few weeks, Donovan is in Vegas with Jude at the moment. Lord knows what they’re getting up to but they must keep it a secret because Megan has reported nothing yet. I swear she has a crystal ball with our artists. As they say, no such thing as bad press.

Will you email me the contract to sign?

Yes. It’s already in your email inbox, I sent it a few minutes ago, Tara said, holding her phone aloft for me to see.

Well, I’ll have a read and come back to you tomorrow if I have any questions. I can’t wait to get started.

Would you like to stay for lunch? We have kitchens here that make you anything you want, Vegan, whatever you eat. I can give you a tour of the house? I saw your look when you stood outside. You are a woman who likes old buildings I can tell, Erin said.

If I’m not imposing, I’d love to have a look around, I said.

I couldn’t care about lunch even though my stomach rumbled. I wanted to see the old rooms and fireplaces.

Great, then you can tell me all about why you aren’t booked solid for the next year, Erin said as she hooked her arm through mine and led me out of the conference room.

Erin, I heard Alex warn.

I’ll be gentle, I know the rules, darling, she hollered back.

I didn’t know the rules. What were the rules? They were rock legends, and I was a supermodel, what were rock star rules? I thought I was about to find out because Erin clung to my arm like I was her new best friend.

Me: I said yes. Erin got me to spill the beans on me having no modelling work.

Margo: I love the woman already, she had made skills to get you to reveal stuff you don’t want to

Me: I’m staying for lunch

Margo: See you when I see you x

3

Erin

Erin, can I talk to you? Alex said from behind us. I dropped back from Leia and stood next to my husband, hoping if the others turned the corner, he would pull me in for a quick kiss.

Yes, my love, what is it? I said, fluttering my eyelashes, edging nearer to him by hooking my fingers into the waistband of his jeans.

You can’t save everyone, he said.

I feigned ignorance.

Don’t know what you mean.

Yes, you do. You can’t save every stray.

Alex kissed me soundly before I could protest again.

I can try, she needs us. I have a good feeling about her.

Alex sighed, stroking my cheek while he tilted his head to the side giving me his I will not win this argument look.

I love you, Erin Devlin.

I love that you put up with my hair-brained ideas.

Always and forever, Alex said and kissed me again.

He took my hand when we walked through the corridors of Red & Black. Reaching the bottom of the staircase, we met back up with Tara, Seb and Leia. Tara looked up at the double doors at the top and promptly sat down on the bottom step.

These stairs need to come out or we need to get a stair lift. I can’t climb the stairs today. I’m too tired, Tara said. I can’t believe I’m still pregnant, it feels like years and not nine months.

"I can’t