Perfect Harmony

By Violet Rae

Can the jaded rock star convince the shy girl with the voice of an angel that he wants her as more than his singing partner... he wants her as his partner for life?

Mack
I've been a solo artist for years, but lately, something's out of tune. I've given the industry my all but I'm ready to hang up my guitar. Then I meet her. Harmony is beautiful with the voice of an angel. The second I hear her, I know I've found my missing note. She's the music to my soul that hasn't played in years.

Harmony
Singing is my secret passion. I've daydreamed about performing on stage to an audience ever since I was a little girl. But crippling anxiety prevents my daydream from becoming a reality. Then a chance "meeting" with Mack changes everything. He's all I've ever wanted in a man. Not only is he a talented musician, but he also calms my demons and silences my negative thoughts, allowing my voice to become my perfect instrument. But when he asks me to form a singing duet with him, will we write a broken melody or compose the Perfect Harmony?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Violet Rae
• Release date: Aug 24, 2022
• ISBN: 9798224616848

Book preview

Chapter 1

Mack

What do you mean, the record company wants a duet? I demand, glowering at my manager.

Well, technically, they want three duets on the album, Harry says, holding my gaze.

I rub a weary hand over my face. I did the whole boy band gig. I’m a solo artist now.

That whole boy band gig is what launched you and earned you millions, Harry reminds me.

Yeah, and it didn’t come without an emotional price tag, I mutter darkly, aware I sound like an ungrateful asshole.

Every kid dreams of being a rock star, and I was no different.

I hit the big time with the boy band Dynamite when I was twenty. I drowned in booze, drugs, and women until I forgot my own fucking name. Life was one huge non-stop party, and I was riding high on the fame roller-coaster.

It was cool for a while—the buzz of being famous, the screaming fans, life on the road. But as Dynamite's songwriter and lead vocalist, I burned out quickly. Fame got old real damn quick. After five years of giving everything to the industry, I wanted out. I wanted sleep. Oblivion. And space.

My mom dying was the biggest wake-up call imaginable. It left me hollow and empty. I didn’t even know about the cancer. She kept it a secret from me. She knew I’d drop everything to be with her, and she didn’t want to stop me from living my dream. She said her weight loss was related to her Crohn’s Disease, but in reality, she had bowel cancer.

After she died, I took two years off to take care of my stepsister, who was only fourteen at the time. But it wasn’t long before I wanted back into the music scene—this time, on my terms. Not writing boy band jingles and prancing around on stage to choreographed dance routines but composing from the heart. Music that touched people’s emotions and left an imprint on their souls.

I was picked up by Rumors record label as a solo artist, and a handful of Platinum hits followed. Then the passion for music that’s always driven me dried up. The songs and lyrics weren’t coming from the heart anymore. Something disconnected inside me, taking the magic with it. Twelve years I’ve given to my music career. I’ve given everything I have, and I’m not sure why I’m doing it anymore. The industry has almost drained me dry.

And now the record label has changed the goalposts. Even they don’t have faith in me as a solo artist anymore.

I stare out at the Manhattan skyline through the floor-to-ceiling windows in Harry’s office. So let me get this straight. I either bring in a singing partner for three of the songs on the new album, or the deal is off with Rumors.

Harry leans forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his desk. Rumors has a vision for you. As a record company, they see your talent. They love your voice, but we both know the lyrics have been… less forthcoming lately. So, they want to bring in a female artist to mix things up a bit.

My head pops up. "Wait. The record company wants to team me up with a female artist? What the fuck, Harry? I’ve never sung with a woman before. I’m supposed to change everything, my whole setup, to fit in with the record company’s ‘vision?’"

If you want to tour and secure your deal with Rumors for another two years, yes, Harry says bluntly. The record company has already held some preliminary auditions, and⁠—

They’ve already done auditions? I shift forward in my chair, fury burning through me. When the hell was I gonna be told about this? Don’t I have any say in who I’m going to be forced to sing with?

Harry holds up a placating hand. These are only suggestions, Mack. Of course, you have the final say on who you partner with. If you like any of the girls I’m about to show you, we’ll pull them in for a live audition.

And if I don’t like any of them?

Then we’ll go back to the drawing board. Just listen, please, and we’ll go from there.

I don’t want to jump through hoops for the record company, and I sure as hell don’t want a singing partner, but it appears my options are limited. Rumors are effectively saying, toe the line, or we’ll find someone who will.

I lean back in my chair with a frustrated sigh, which Harry takes as an assent. He turns the screen on his desk to face me, where he has a video cued and hits the play button. I reluctantly turn my attention to the screen and spend the next half hour listening to choreographed auditions from a range of hopefuls singing renditions of their favorite Dynamite songs. One girl looks about twelve, another is dressed in some weird-ass outfit that looks like ostrich feathers glued to her body, and one has a python around her neck as she sings. Some of the voices are good, some are great, but none of them move me in any emotional way.

The video ends, and I turn my shocked gaze on Harry. You seriously expect me to choose someone from that horror show?

The girl with the feathers had a good voice, and she’s blonde and pretty, Harry points out, ever the opportunist.

I push to my feet. I’m done with this fucking shit. I won’t be emotionally blackmailed, especially when it comes to my career. I spent five years being someone else’s puppet.

Mack, wait. I have one more for you to listen to, Harry says urgently.

I reach for the door handle as strains of music fill the room once more, stopping me in my tracks. The sweetest, clearest voice I’ve ever heard weaves into the air, wrapping around me