Rhythmic Trance

By Davina MacDonald

RHYTHMIC TRANCE

A stand-alone novella by author Davina MacDonald

Camille won’t allow anyone, or anything, to sabotage the life she’s built. She’s finally back on her feet, working as a dancer in one of the hottest clubs in town. But her perfect world is disrupted by the sudden appearance of the owner. Arrogant, demanding and too damn attractive. Nathan Gallagher is a threat, in more ways than one, and she’ll fight like all hell to protect her utopia. And her heart. Even if she has to face the devil himself.

Running the family business is all Nathan has time for, and he’s quite happy with that. Until her. Camille Adams flips his world upside down. Not only is she responsible for the astronomical profit generated by Hell’s Bridge, but she is fire and seduction, all wrapped up in one curvy package. Her snarky attitude and fierce loyalty makes him burn with lust and fury. She’ll dance only for him, and he’s willing to play dirty to ensure that.

Rhythmic Trance is the first book in the Gentlemen of Raid-Zane series and can be read as a stand-alone.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Davina MacDonald
• Release date: Dec 3, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005150426

Davina MacDonald

Fiction and Romance has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. I read everything and anything I could get my hands on. I was hooked on the story world and at some point, I was burning to put the vivid and sometimes wild stories that play off in my mind, onto paper. And that's when my own stories found their way into the world.

Book preview

Rhythmic Trance

Davina MacDonald

Copyright 2020 Davina Mac Donald

All rights reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted or distributed in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording or other electronic or mechanical methods, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotation in a book review. For permission requests, email to [e-mail]

Note that this is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblances to people, living or dead, places, business establishments or locales is completely coincidental. The author recognizes the copyrights and trademarks of all registered works and products mentioned within this work.

If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favourite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Epilogue

About The Author

Chapter One

Camille

Of all the clubs in this city, you had to choose this one? I groan in annoyance. The night-time breeze whisks my hair into the air, and I shake my head, trying to move the dark strands out of my line of sight. My hands aren’t free to remove the visual obstruction. One is holding my jacket in place, and the other is locked in Fray’s grasp, as she barrels down the sidewalk, dragging me behind her.

Fray lives in the apartment across from mine, and the woman has more energy than a bunny. She coaxed me out of bed with the promise of Netflix and ice cream. I should’ve known she was up to no good when she stormed into my apartment, 10 minutes after her text, and ordered me to ditch my pyjamas. Exploring the nightlife of the City of Dreams isn’t high on my to-do list.

Turning my face up to the heavens, I breathe in the warmth of the city. Even without the sun, the air is humid and thick. But that’s to be expected since it’s the middle of summer. The July heat is stifling.

I drop my hand from my jacket and fan myself, desperate for a drink.

Come on, Cam. Hell’s Bridge is the hottest club on this side of LA. It was the obvious choice, Fray shrieks, making my ears ring in protest.

I can't argue with her on that. Hell’s Bridge is one of the most energetic and diverse clubs in the area. It is also the place where I make my living.

The neon sign flashes with invitation. A wave of gratefulness makes me smile. No matter how many times I stare up at the pulsing red and orange words, the novel feeling doesn’t go away.

Despite my earlier protests, I don’t mind that she chose to spend the night dancing at HB. This place saved me from a harrowing fate.

New in the United States and suddenly homeless, I was lost, in every sense of the word. The memory of that low-point in my life threatens to resurface. My mind swims with memories of Bradley, and the betrayal that drove me to rock-bottom.

I swallow at the knot in my throat, pushing the thought aside. Now is not the time to jump down memory lane, knowing I'll struggle to come back from it. I glance up at the words, the double meaning not lost to me. For many, Hell's Bridge is a place between good and evil. The space between sin and salvation. For me, it symbolises the turning point in my life when I was given a second chance. Without knowing much about me or my background, I was taken in by the members of Hell’s Bridge. Not once have I felt anything but love and acceptance from them.

The club itself is a once in a lifetime experience. There isn’t a club in town that could mimic the energy and life of this place. It’s unique and enticing. I spend almost 60 hours a week inside these four walls, but the prospect of being sucked into the hypnotic energy of HB wasn’t appalling.

You have to come out of your comfort zone. When was the last time you did that? Mind you, when was the last time you left your apartment besides for work or shopping? Fray's question hangs in the air, and I glare at the back of her head. She tugs me towards the entrance. With resolution, I allow myself to be led by her.

The bright florescent lights illuminate the sidewalk. My gaze falls on the growing crowd of people outside the door. I walk towards the line when I hear a familiar baritone voice call my name.

Camille? Don't tell me you're working tonight.

I twist out of Fray's grasp and spin on the heel of my Cinderella-style Louboutin's.

Hey Bill, I greet him with a sweet smile. Bill is the head of security for Hell’s Bridge, and one of my closest colleagues. Lies. I can't make that distinction. They have become my family. No, I'm not working. I'm here to have fun. I roll my eyes, pointing at Fray, who's bouncing beside me, barely able to contain her excitement.

Bill’s head rears back, and he scrunches his nose. I giggle, aware of how ridiculous it must sound. My sudden appearance at HB on my night off is a mythical occurrence. Unlike Fray, I don’t crave the nightlife. I work in it, so it’s a part of my routine.

Somehow, I doubt that’s possible. You take life way too seriously. He crosses his arms over his beefy chest. The tight black t-shirt looks like it's about to split apart at the seams. Bill, like the bouncers, is built for wrestling. Big, buff, and intimidating. Women swoon at the sight of him, and men take a tentative step back.

I open my mouth to answer, but Fray starts to hustle me away.

Hold on, ladies. Bill's voice drops to a ridiculously low depth. The women at the front of the line melt instantly. I shake my head and laugh. Three years at Hell's Bridge has made me immune to the sexual energy that oozes from the bouncers like molten lava. He walks towards one of the fabric barricades and tugs on it. The wheeled obstruction slides away, leaving a clear path of entry. You are staff, that makes you a VIP. You and your girl have a good night.

I make another effort to protest, but before my brain can compound a sentence, Fray drags me past the big man and into the darkness of the club foyer. Pushing through the black curtains, we step into the electric hall. The sudden assault of multi-coloured strobe lights forces me to blink rapidly. The bass reverberates off the walls. Out of habit, I scan the room. The club is lively and crowded, packed to capacity.

I tug on my clothes, painfully aware that I’m showing too much skin for my liking. I'm uncomfortable in my red crop top, covered by a leather jacket, and high wasted skinny jeans.

Fray picked out my outfit for tonight. Her choice makes me question if she knew me at all. Anything with a bare mid-rift is a no-go area for me. I don’t even know why I own this top. I'm so used to being in either my uniform or a club assigned outfit, that my own clothes burn against my skin.

The foyer opens onto a deck, which overlooks the dancefloor. The club is a long rectangular building, complete with high ceilings and VIP balconies. It’s close to 12, which means the hype run will start soon. Anticipation for the hypnotic moment burns in my gut. I survey the hall, trying to discern which staff members are on duty tonight. The headlining DJ, Harper, is on the stage to the right, setting up his equipment, while the regular DJ keeps the crowd entertained. Maya, one of the dancers, stands on the staff balcony. She waves at me and I raise a hand in greeting.

I carefully place one foot in front of the other, as I descend the small staircase. I push my way through the crowd to the south end of the club. I grab the bar, desperate for the extra support. Jesse, the bartender, frowns when he sees me. I do not fucking believe it. Camille Adams in HB on her night off. The world is going to end tonight. Are you trolling?

I scowl, I never troll.

And that’s your problem. You need to stop working and get laid.

My middle finger shoots up in the air. Jesse chuckles, Seriously babe, what are you doing here? Not that I'm not happy to see you.

He passes a few drinks to the people flanking my sides, then pulls the rag from his belt. He wipes down the surface in front of me, before stuffing a glass of dark liquid under my nose. I blow him a kiss. Jesse reaches to catch it and pretends to slip it in the pocket of his jeans.

Corny is not a good look on you, I smirk, but accept the drink, grateful for his intuition. The grin on his face illuminates the space more than the overhead lights.

Jesse is the epitome of a beach boy, complete with surfer blonde hair and a perfectly toned body. His guy-next-door features and wretched baby blue eyes make him a favourite behind the bar, especially on Ladies night. He's into men, but that doesn’t stop the women from drooling over his fuck-hot body.

I drop my ass in the barstool, sipping on my drink. I sigh with content, appreciating the strong taste of rum that coats my throat. Fray grabs the seat beside me. Jesse’s eyebrows disappear into his hairline.

Ah, so it’s atomic blonde Fray that dragged you out of your ivory tower. Well, in that case, her drinks are free tonight. Since she managed to move the earth.

I scowl at him, but he shrugs before turning to Fray, flashing his best panty-dropping smile, What can I get for you tonight?

The seductive tone of Jesse’s voice evokes a soft groan from Fray. He charms her effortlessly, and I struggle to hide my amusement, watching as she lusts over him, even though she’s fully aware of his gay status.