The Summer Tour: a Rockstar Romance: Amaryllis Romance, #1

By Mandy Melanson

What happens when a stubborn Cinderella meets a lovesick rock star? Find out in The Summer Tour

My name is Griffin Miller. I'm the lead singer of Amaryllis. Yeah, the platinum selling rock band. Tonight all of my career dreams came true.

The notorious Tulsa Theater. Check.
Awesome Crowd. Check.
Voice on point? Not so much.

I should've been focused on checking all those items off of my career bucket list and the screaming fans packed into the arena, giving them the best performance of my life.

But...

I was too distracted by the brunette in the front row.

Luckily, the crowd didn't seem to care or even notice when I missed my mark on stage tonight. You can bet the label noticed. I'll hear from them in the morning and I don't even care.

I'm sick of the label running my life.

All I want to do is find out who the mystery woman is, but I can't. Not yet, anyway. For now, I'm stuck sitting here signing my name on branded merch looking for a single face, her face, in the crowd.

I have to find her again.

MEET GRIFFIN MILLER AND THE WOMAN WHO BRINGS THIS ROCK STAR TO HIS KNEES!

• Language: English
• Publisher: 918 Publishing
• Release date: Sep 21, 2021
• ISBN: 9798224207152

Mandy Melanson

USA Today bestselling author Mandy Melanson is a music loving pisces, fighting toxicity one happy ever after at a time. She can often be found plotting world domination from her pillow fort, while outlining her next book. Mandy says she aims to include social issues in every book she writes because life is something we all experience differently. Her hope is to encourage communication about difficult subjects through her characters' journeys. When Mandy isn't writing, she can be found restoring balance in the force with her three homeschooled younglings. Powered by Dr. Pepper and coffee. Sign up for updates from Mandy: https://sendfox.com/anaskewauthor1

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Table of Contents

The Summer Tour: a Rockstar Romance (Amaryllis Romance, #1)

About The Summer Tour.........................i

Dedication..................................iii

Chapter One.................................1

Chapter Two.................................3

Chapter Three...............................13

Chapter Four................................25

Chapter Five................................35

Chapter Six.................................51

Chapter Seven...............................61

Chapter Eight...............................69

Chapter Nine................................81

Chapter Ten................................97

Chapter Eleven.............................105

Chapter Twelve.............................113

Chapter Thirteen............................127

Chapter Fourteen............................139

Chapter Fifteen.............................151

Chapter Sixteen.............................169

Chapter Seventeen...........................181

Chapter Eighteen............................193

Chapter Nineteen............................207

Chapter Twenty.............................223

Chapter Twenty-One..........................237

Chapter Twenty-Two.........................249

Chapter Twenty-Three.........................265

Chapter Twenty-Four.........................277

Chapter Twenty-Five.........................293

Chapter Twenty-Six..........................303

Chapter Twenty-Seven........................311

Chapter Twenty-Eight.........................323

Chapter Twenty-Nine.........................333

Chapter Thirty..............................341

Chapter Thirty-One...........................347

Chapter Thirty-Two..........................357

Chapter Thirty-Three.........................369

Chapter Thirty-Four..........................377

Special Preview: The Encore Tour.................390

The Summer Tour

Amaryllis Romance

by Mandy Melanson

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918 PUBLISHING

a Division of Amaryllis Media, LLC

www.918publishing.com

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, used for Artificial Intelligence (AI) training, or transmitted, in any form or by any means mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior written consent of the publisher and author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

Copyright © 2024 Mandy Melanson

Layout by No Sweat Graphics & Formatting

www.nosweatgraphics.com

This book is a work of fiction. References to historical events, real people, or actual locations are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Published by 918 Publishing, a division of Amaryllis Media, LLC.

Printed in the United States of America

My name is Griffin Miller. I’m lead singer of the multi-platinum rock band Amaryllis.

Tonight, our rockstar career dreams came true. The notorious Tulsa Theater. Check. Awesome crowd. Check. Voice on point? Not so much, because I was too distracted by the brunette in the front row.

In the ten years I’ve spent touring and building this franchise with my brothers, not a single person has ever stood out in the crowd. It’s impossible to tell one face from the next when I’m up there. The mixture of fog, lights, flashing lasers, and whatever else they put into the air to keep the crowd happy... it’s all a mix for a bunch of blurry fuzzy whatnots.

She was not a whatnot.

She stood out in those tight ripped black jeans. Those rips went all the way up her thighs, and that adorable neon yellow thing holding her hair up out of her face. I don’t even know what it’s called, but it was perfect.

She was perfect.

Now I’m sitting here next to my brothers signing my name on branded merch looking for a single face—her face—in the crowd.

I have to find her again...

This book is for my children, although they will all have to wait until they’re older to read it.

To my kids...

Never let anyone tell you that you can’t do something. You can do anything you put your heart and mind to. Always surround yourself with people who believe in you and want to see you succeed. I am proud of you and I always will be.

Be the person you were born to be, and don’t let anyone dull your shine. Sparkle bright, my loves. You are amazing!

Love always,

Mom.

About The Summer Tour.........................i

Dedication..................................iii

Chapter One.................................1

Chapter Two.................................3

Chapter Three...............................13

Chapter Four................................25

Chapter Five................................35

Chapter Six.................................51

Chapter Seven...............................61

Chapter Eight...............................69

Chapter Nine................................81

Chapter Ten................................97

Chapter Eleven.............................105

Chapter Twelve.............................113

Chapter Thirteen............................127

Chapter Fourteen............................139

Chapter Fifteen.............................151

Chapter Sixteen.............................169

Chapter Seventeen...........................181

Chapter Eighteen............................193

Chapter Nineteen............................207

Chapter Twenty.............................223

Chapter Twenty-One..........................237

Chapter Twenty-Two.........................249

Chapter Twenty-Three.........................265

Chapter Twenty-Four.........................277

Chapter Twenty-Five.........................293

Chapter Twenty-Six..........................303

Chapter Twenty-Seven........................311

Chapter Twenty-Eight.........................323

Chapter Twenty-Nine.........................333

Chapter Thirty..............................341

Chapter Thirty-One...........................347

Chapter Thirty-Two..........................357

Chapter Thirty-Three.........................369

Chapter Thirty-Four..........................377

Special Preview: The Encore Tour.................390

Chapter One

"I

can’t believe it. We’re actually here." The deepest tones of my voice reverberate exactly as they should off the perfectly conditioned walls of this historic theater.

It’s all our rockstar dreams come true, man. Aren’t’ you amped? Ridge asks as he checks the connections between our equipment and the sound system. Amaryllis is a very well-oiled machine and Ridge is the one who keeps it that way.

He’s right.

I should be amped, but I’m not.

It’s a tough day, man, I finally choke out.

He nods knowingly and goes back to his work. He’s built a reputation in the industry of being the only stage production manager who can make his acts sound better live. We’re lucky, he’s been with us since the start.

I shake my head to clear the fog from my head. Get it together. I’m finally playing the one venue that’s been my dream since I was eight years old and picked up Dad’s strat for the first time. I used to play along with the radio and dream of performing on a big stage, especially this stage. It happens to be the same venue where my father played his first—and last—gig.

How often does that happen, right?

One week after Dad’s debut, which received rave reviews by the way, my parents found out I was about seven-months from my own world debut. Of course, they already had Nash, my older brother, but it’s a lot harder to keep diapers and pull-

ups on two kids while living the starving artist dream. Then came Adair and Travis, my younger brothers. My parents never once made us feel like they gave up anything. In fact, they told us we were their greatest blessings, but I knew...

Playing the Tulsa Theater is my way of continuing his legacy and fulfilling his dreams, the same dreams he gave up for me, for us.

Dude, you’re a million miles away. Look where you are. Ridge swings his arms out wide to take in the entire backstage area of the notorious theater. You hear those chants out there, man? The fans are intense tonight.

I take a deep breath as I peek around the wall just enough to see every single seat in the house filled and the pit area already bursting with fans. Am-Uh-Real-Us, they’re chanting in unison over the sound of our debut album playing overhead.

You’re a real piece of sh— Carly’s words cut through the surreal moment and are followed immediately by the sound of a slamming door, as a blonde scurries out of Adair’s dressing room. She’s still tripping over her own feet from putting her stilettos back on mid-step as she cuts between them. Blondie gives Adair a wink and tosses her hair over her shoulder as she pushes past Carly.

Typical.

My brother Adair is our bassist, and Carly’s right. He’s a real piece of shit sometimes. He also has the most fragile heart of anyone I’ve ever met, but it looks like tonight he’s more a P.O.S. than anything else.

Nash rolls his eyes after watching the chaos unfold around our younger brother and cups his hands over his mouth, C’mon, Amaryllis. Attention! He has a confidence that seeps out of his pores, and zero tolerance for the backstage drama. The entire Amaryllis family comes out of the woodwork to take their place, as soon as they hear his voice.

Well almost the entire family...

Where the hell is Stone? Nash’s voice turns into a growl. You were supposed to talk to him.

I did! Nigel is our manager, and he’s also the one who The Machine has tasked with keeping Stone from self-destructing on this tour. His eyebrows pull together causing his forehead to wrinkle the way a cat’s body ripples up when it stretches. It’s always been hard for me to take Nigel seriously, especially when he’s concerned, because I can’t shake those cartoon cat images. I’ll go find him, he says as he bolts off down the corridor. We’ve always held to the core belief that Amaryllis isn’t just the four of us, it takes the whole team to keep this train on the tracks, but Stone hasn’t been a functioning part of the team in a while.

Listen up, Nash says as he puts his hand in the circle. I recognize the darkness in his eyes. We’ll have a discussion later about what to do with Stone, but for now he’s focused on replacing any negative energy with positivity and just getting through the show. Carly is still hanging back, outside the circle, no doubt trying to keep her distance from Adair. I don’t blame her. She’s been with us since our garage band days. It wouldn’t be the same without her in the pre-show ritual, so I motion for her to join me on the opposite side of the circle.

Nash motions for the stage crew to throw their hands in, it’s a ritual by now. We all go through the motions with him as hands pile on top of his. Ridge is the last one to reach out because he was still checking the connections. He has a work ethic that just won’t quit, and I for one am grateful because I would probably sound like shit on a stick out there if it weren’t for him. Adair and Travis are bickering amongst themselves and judging by the distorted look on Adair’s face he’s probably getting an earful about what a dumbass he is.

Nash clears his throat and cuts a shut-up glare in their direction, and they do. For now, anyway. You all give us the power to live this dream. Do you hear that? Nash pauses, giving us all time to let the cheers and chants sink in. The fans are yelling Amaryllis, but that’s not just us. He pops Adair on the back and jabs Travis in the arm. They add their hands to the mix with mine right in the middle. It’s for all of you too. He makes eye contact with every single crew member in the circle. Without you, there would be no Amaryllis. Thank you for giving us this chance. We will make you proud tonight, because you make us proud to be a part of this family every single day.

Aye. Travis, Adair, and I echo. I can’t help but notice how Adair doesn’t take his eyes off Carly. I doubt she’s noticed because she’s kept her focus trained on the concrete floor this whole time. He may have finally crossed that line of no return.

One person, one family, one love can change the world, Nash says as he lowers his hand letting all of ours follow his lead. Let’s show them what it means to be... He pushes up to break the circle and we all respond with our ritualistic affirmation. Amaryllis, we yell with our hands balled up into fists in the air.

Let’s show Tulsa what they’ve been missing all these years, Adair snorts as he pats me on the back, brushing into Carly on his way toward the side stage stairs.

Ugh. She rolls her eyes and takes her position behind two laptops at the sound center, still cursing him under her breath as she pops the headphones over her ears.

Nash wraps one arm around my shoulders. You okay, bro?

I should have known he’d be the one that would notice how off I am tonight. I just wish he was here to see it. The heartache is always there, but it’s times like this that it goes from being a constant dull throbbing ache to a full-blown knife through my heart.

Me too, man. This day never gets easier. He gives me a smile and a pat on the back. Can’t focus on that right now though.

Why not? I know very well why not, but I’m a stubborn ass sometimes.

Nash’s mouth distorts in a grimace. The crowd is screaming and chanting our name. We’re in the legendary Tulsa Theater. And...

It’s yet another night that we’re not going to have an encore because Stone, our deadbeat keys and synth player, is drunk off his ass and probably high on whatever he could get his hands on? I finish his sentence for him.

Bingo.

If you’re thinking, so what? Bands don’t always have encores. That is true, but this is Tulsa. Tulsa is notorious for demanding encores. If you don’t give them one then, you can bet your career, you won’t play this town again.

Brutal.

We only have one song that we actually need Stone for, and guess which one it is...

How am I going to get us out of this one? I ask knowing what Nash’s answer will be.

Another lame-ass cover of some song we all grew up listening to on the radio.

Right. It’ll be fine.

Dallas let it slide and Nigel was still able to secure a second date for us in the amphitheater on our way back through.

That’s one thing that I can say for Nigel, he makes sure we always have gigs and they aren’t anything like the little dives we played before The Machine picked us up. Truthfully, I liked the little dives better because they were more forgiving. It was an intimate experience being that close to your audience. I could have an actual conversation with them from the stage. If I needed to say, ‘That idiot Stone is trashed again, so we’re going to play a cover.’ I could say it with no judgment.

But this isn’t a little dive.

And we aren’t playing for small intimate audiences anymore. These fans paid a premium price per ticket, even for the nosebleed seats. Our rockstar dreams came true and it’s time to live up to the expectations, as much as it might suck sometimes.

Christ.

I missed my mark.

Nash is looping his opening riffs to cover for me since I’m back here licking my wounds.

Time to suck it up and put on the persona The Machine insists I portray if I expect to continue getting those very nice seven-figure deposits.

I hate it.

I love the music and the fans, but I hate pretending to be something I’m not.

I can’t keep being a puppet on a string for The Machine.

I also can’t walk away—yet.

In the meantime... Tulsa, meet Griffin Miller. I inhale a deep breath to muster up all the energy and wait for my cue to come back around. When I hear Nash hit the note, I plow onto the stage, Tulsa! I growl into the microphone as I make my way to center stage. The mixture of fog, lights, flashing lasers, my astigmatism, and whatever else they put into the air to keep the crowd happy... It’s all just a mix for a big bunch of blurry fuzzy whatnots. A brunette at the front of the pit catches my eye with her wide smile and black ripped jeans. There’s an energy in her eyes that I haven’t seen before. It’s mesmerizing. Shit. Ridge is trying desperately to realign the spotlight since I stopped short and totally missed my mark because I was too busy watching her and how she just fell into the rhythm of the music playing behind me. I take two big steps and reposition myself into the spotlight, so I can do my job and keep this crowd revved up. They all look the same, except her.

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Chapter Two

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W

ho knew a butt-dial would completely change my life? Okay, maybe that’s a little dramatic, but it did change the direction for my Thursday night.

I was carrying Carter on my hip as per usual and hauling a bag of groceries in

my other arm when I heard a man’s voice calling out. Hello? Hello? I finally unloaded my arms and fished the phone from my back pocket to find out from an overly chipper radio personality that I was the Lucky-13 caller and had just snagged a pair of tickets to the sold out Amaryllis show, right here in the historic Tulsa Theater. The prize even included a meet-the-band pass for autographs.

I almost declined.

In fact, that was my first reaction since I had never heard of Amaryllis before. The last time I listened to popular music was... Oh, about six years ago, just before Carter discovered the wide world of Sesame Street.

But I didn’t decline.

Instead, I remembered what my mom said just the day before. "Life will pass you by, if you don’t start living it."

She was right.

I’ve sulked around for too long after being left at the altar. Luckily Nick, the runaway almost-husband, isn’t Carter’s father.

Mom was right.

I am destined to become the crazy old cat lady, unless I get out there and start living... a little.

Let’s not get carried away.

I’m not known for handling change well, least of all big changes.

I almost had a meltdown when my favorite coffee mug broke in the dishwasher. I miss that mug.

So, as you can see, I’m a hot mess. That is probably the exact reason why the universe decided to give me a kick in the bum in the form of my six-year-old giggling and swinging his feet on a Wednesday afternoon, which resulted in a butt-dial into the radio station. I should check on him. I tap my mom’s profile on my phone’s screen.

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I know she said he’s fine, but this is the longest I’ve been out without Carter since he was born. Maybe I should just go. My stomach twists as I debate sticking it out to enjoy the show or running home. I would say that’ll teach me to carry my phone in my back pocket, but I’m excited to be here surrounded by at least five-thousand people I’ve never met before.

The stench of B.O. isn’t even as bad as I expected.

I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s there. But it’s a six out of ten, instead of the ten out of ten I planned for.

London! My best friend Casey was good enough to be my date tonight even though she much prefers the pop queens and kings to the alternative style of this band. She’s always up for anything though and is currently bobbing up and down in the sea of people trying to find me. Since she’s about the same height I’m guessing she’s having trouble, because her face keeps popping up randomly through the crowd. I think she’s actually reverted to hopping, kind of like a bunny, to see over the top of heads, and other bodies that have been lifted onto very large, very muscular shoulders.

Drool.

It’s a traffic jam in here, I yell thinking she might be able to hear me as I reach around Mr. Very-muscular-shoulders to grab her hand. Excuse us. I smile up at the cranky man who has obviously had more than one protein shake today. His personality takes away from the hot body as he snarls at me for trying to pull my friend closer. I’ve gone from drooling to giving him a sideways glare as I pull on Casey’s hand as hard as I can. She jolts forward causing us to stumble into the fence that blocks the crowd from completely rushing the stage.

I can’t help but laugh.

Casey nudges me on the shoulder. That’s him, she giggles, while pointing to a security guard at the end of the row lining the stage.

That’s who? I’m thoroughly confused.

Casey rolls her eyes and flicks the screen of her phone. The reason I’m late. She points to a new contact that says Security Hottie. Judging from the profile picture, she’s not wrong. Intense blue eyes contrast against his dark skin. He’s wearing a bright yellow shirt fits tight across his pecs giving a preview of the muscle tone that must wait just beneath the thin layer fabric labeled Security.

Did you just meet him out front? I’m a little envious of how easily she meets new people. I’ve always had trouble talking to people, mainly because I’m awkward and always feel like I’m going to say or do the wrong thing.

Maybe. She smirks and tucks her phone back into her pocket. Maybe not.

I can’t even with this girl. Didn’t you just break up with Beau last weekend?

No point in spending my life pinning away after another bad idea, right? She takes a drink from her Amaryllis labeled water bottle.

I like that, I say pointing to the label designed to look like the amaryllis flower is blooming out of rusted and twisted metal. I admit to doing a little Googling before the show, and I found out the lead singer, who also happens to be one of the Miller brothers making up four-fifths of the band, chose the name Amaryllis because the flower was a Greek symbol for strength and beauty. I think I might actually get some of the merchandise—just for the symbol. It’s very artistic.

Casey snorts and almost chokes on her water. Just the symbol, huh?

The band pictures are...

Hot?

I’m not going to lie, the men of Amaryllis are definitely nice eye candy, but who wants faces of people they don’t know plastered all over their walls? Not this girl.

A loud thump echoes through the auditorium as the lights shut off. The entire crowd erupts into screams and cheers. A single guitar riff echoes over the speakers and the crowd responds with a chant, Am-Uh-Real-Us, which I assume is the cool way to say Amaryllis. YOLO, right? I throw my hand up and chant with the crowd as the lights slowly start to come back on illuminating the stage while dense fog spills out over the crowd. Our screams and chants build louder and louder. The energy is intense, and I love every second of it. For the first time in... I can’t remember how long; anxiety leaves my brain and I’m just having fun. It makes me regret giving up music when I met my ex. He wanted me to learn the family business, which of course meant I would have zero time to donate to my own interests. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Wifely, or fiancé, duty and all that jazz. Douchebag.

Nash Miller—thank you, Google—plays another guitar riff. He’s decked out in his standard uniform of short sleeve dress shirt, vest, and denim. The heavy riff echoes and then fades through the auditorium as Travis Miller runs onto the stage and takes his position behind the massive bright orange drum set. He’s in his signature white t-shirt, black Dickie’s pants, and a whole lot of heavy metal on his wrists and fingers. He rolls the sticks across the cymbals. The crowd screams louder.

Have they forgotten that they’re supposed to chant? Are we done with chanting now? I don’t even know.

The bassist is Adair Miller and, from what I read online, he’s got a reputation of being a major hot head. Just saying.

My phone buzzes.

Nash steps up to the edge of the stage and lets the reverb do its job as he claps his hands over his head.

Casey grabs my hand and throws it back into the air, jumping and screaming at the top of our lungs as Travis pounds out a hard beat to find rhythm between the guitar and bass.

The lead singer, Griffin Miller, runs out on stage with all the energy of my six-year-old