Jammin' with Jameson

By Marie Ahls

Reeling from an injury that ends his bright hockey career, Jameson Ward falls on the one thing he knows he does well…drumming. It will keep his name in the limelight and hopefully strengthen his leg for a return to the ice.

Jameson finds more than he bargains for when he auditions for a local up-and-coming band. Life is good when the band has Jameson jamming right past his goals. With his eyes set on bandmate Candace, he must decide whether or not returning to the ice or being part of Candace's life is his destiny.

Will life turn out the way Jameson had always planned? Or will it be a slippery way off the ice and his way into a new life?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fiery Vision Publishing
• Release date: Dec 6, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393516989

Book preview

Chapter One

Shaking into the tight jeans, tying the end of the used condom and wrapping it in a tissue before stuffing it in my pocket, and slipping out of the room as quietly as possible, shoes dangling from my hand, the creaking of the door sounded like a gunshot going off. I cringed, hoping she didn’t wake. When they woke up it became complicated, and I didn't do complicated. 

The third interlude in two days. A hot brunette with all the right curves, a blondie with huge tits, and a red-head with more than a fire-crotch to brag about. Diversity. It’s all about diversifying. 

The cool night air fused with the lingering perfume scent added a pleasant aroma to the usual city smell, making the decision to walk the few blocks home more enticing. The limp, and constant reminder of my failures, became more prominent with each step, reminding me that it wasn’t up to full strength yet and that it was going to rain. It always acted up when a storm was brewing. 

As the limp worsened and the pain began, my thoughts wandered to the last doctor’s appointment. 

I’m going to be straight with you, Jameson, the team doctor said calmly. 

Nothing about his tone presented good news. Give it to me, doc. I braced myself for it. 

I regret to tell you this, but it seems unlikely you’ll ever play again. 

Unlikely. That’s what stuck in my head. Not impossible, but unlikely. With enough drive, it was possible. 

I know this is disappointing for you to hear. He patted my knee while I tried not to wince at his sympathy. 

The downward spiral came next when everything worth living for came crashing down around me with that one sentence from the doctor. The bright career as a hockey star was gone within seconds. The physical therapy hadn’t been enough to improve the mobility and strength of the knee. 

Every time my foot tapped the bass pedal, the tightness and twinge of pain in my knee hinted at the lack of durability needed to be on the ice. 

It was the crinkle of paper blowing in the wind that caught my attention. It was pinned to the bulletin board on the outer edge of the bus stop, reading Fire Strong looking for experienced drummer to complete band. Open auditions being held. My experience in a band was limited, but with the side gigs I could probably fake it enough to get by, and the Spring City competition would work in my favor, and I was good. Getting my first drum set as a middle schooler, drumming became a hobby that I perfected over the years. If I wasn’t on the ice, I was behind the drum set. Music had been a life saver, something that was all my own that I could get lost in. Being a musician wasn’t anything that I had an aspiration for, but since hockey was out, drumming was in. 

Memories flooded back of my time in Spring City where I competed in a competition sponsored by the Griffin family, a prominent Kentucky family who owned a chain of full-service gas stations. Even though I didn’t win the competition, each contestant was awarded prize money. My money went into investments. This was before the injury when I could enjoy playing the drums for fun instead of making it part of my rehab. 

The flyer ripped easily from the board, and with one last glance at it, I stuffed it into my pocket, planning to evaluate the opportunity when I had less of a buzz and more sleep. 

Ahead, my condo came into view, and if my knee had anything to say about it, the elevator rides up to the penthouse couldn’t come soon enough. Being in the prime of my hockey career had afforded many benefits, one of them being the penthouse in a swanky downtown building. 

A good night partying and fucking left little room for sleep, and my bed was calling my name as I entered the cool apartment, dropping the contents of my pockets on the sofa table that greeted the entry way, the flyer for the band auditions left forgotten while my body landed with a loud thud on the bed. 

Chapter Two

Another day creeped through the curtains and a groan escaped as I rolled over, wanting to go back to sleep, but forcing myself to face the day. 

It was the same as every other day. 

Get up. Go to the gym. Therapy. Catch the sports headlines. Drink. Fuck. Sleep. Then repeat. 

The mundane ordinariness of it all was beginning to get into my head. I was drowning with no way out. Hockey had been my outlet. The thing that had made me, me. Without it, there was nothing to look forward to. Nothing to get the heart pounding and the blood pumping within my body. I was at a standstill. 

With each hour that passed, I became more forgotten in the sports world, and my return became more unlikely. The drinking began earlier and earlier each day, and the women were the only thing that made me feel somewhat normal as I was pumping my dick into them. It was the only time I could forget what a fuck up I had become. 

Tonight’s escapade was going to take place at a hip club that had a line a mile long. My eyes wandered to the women in their shorts skirts and heels waiting impatiently. Luckily, the owner was a fan and I never had to wait. 

I settled into a corner spot where I could observe all the happenings and set my sights on tonight’s conquest. 

When she walked in, her long black hair flowing over one shoulder in a tight leopard print dress, it was obvious she was looking for the same type of evening. Her eyes scanned the club and fell upon me. The glass of gin, raised mid-air, tipped to acknowledge her before finding my lips. This was how the game