Read Rock My Body (Black Falcon #4) Online
Authors: Michelle A. Valentine
More Books by Michelle A. Valentine
ROCK My Body
(Black Falcon, #4)
By Michelle A. Valentine
Rock My Body
Published By: Michelle A. Valentine Books, LLC
ebook edition
Copyright © 2014 by Michelle A. Valentine Books, LLC
Cover Art by:
(stock photo purchased)
Edited by:
Interior Design & Formatting by:
All Rights Reserved.
This edition is copyrighted by Michelle A Valentine Books, LLC.
No reproduction or utilization of this edition without written permission of the publisher. October, 2014.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
For questions or comments about this book, please contact the author at:
[email protected]
or
www.michelleavalentine.com
To the readers: Thank you for always being amazing.
Black Falcon Series Reading Order
Rock the Beginning (Black Falcon, #0.5)
Can be found in Stories for Amanda
or in the back of Rock the Beat
Rock the Heart (Black Falcon, #1)
Rock the Band (Black Falcon, #1.5)
Rock My Bed (Black Falcon, #2)
Rock My World (Black Falcon, #2.5)
Rock the Beat (Black Falcon, #3)
Rock My Body (Black Falcon, #4)
Hard Knocks Series
Phenomenal X (Hard Knocks, #1)
The Collectors Series
Demon at My Door
Coming Soon
Xavier Cold (Hard Knocks, #2)
Elite Invitation
Demon in My Bed
Wicked White
“Coming Down” – Five Finger Death Punch
One Year Ago…
I nod my head to the beat, glad that, for once, we are in our element in playing to a sold-out crowd.
I’m not exactly sure where everything started falling apart. Wait...that’s a lie. I know
exactly
when my blissful happiness began to deteriorate. It was the day Riff brought a woman on our bus for a long-term stay. A woman who fucked everything up and started Black Falcon on our downward spiral.
One day things were great—every guy in the band practically floating on cloud nine and all that shit—but somehow in the midst of our happiness and living out our life-long dream, things turned to shit. Sophie, Riff’s temporary fuck-of-the-month, single handedly drove a wedge into our foundation and rocked our ship by claiming she one-nighted Noel and was knocked up by him. For a while, I wasn’t even sure if the band would make it, but we did, ironically, with the help of two women, Lanie Vance and Aubrey Jenson. They were all right chicks at first, but eventually became thorns in my side too. Noel and Riff are so lovesick; they can’t see that their constant need to “
take a break
” for “
family time
” is destroying us.
My twin brother, Trip, used to look at the situation like I do. He wasn’t happy about the disappearing acts that both Noel and Riff insisted on pulling all the damn time. That was until my baby brother took it upon himself to seek out other interests besides the band. He not only found a dirt bike track to invest his money into, he also found a chick to invest his time into. He had to go and fall for the fucking track owner’s daughter, Holly. After that, he had a change of heart, and started empathizing with my other bandmates.
Fucking pussies.
All of them.
Black Falcon might as well be a label-made band like those Embrace the Darkness douchebags who are always trying to upstage us and ride our coattails. Like them, we don’t really give a fuck about each other anymore. Seems like this band is nothing more than a paycheck, which is sad. When we all vibe well together, magic truly happens.
Trip pounds out the last few beats of the song and the crowd explodes, instantly begging for more.
This is what I love. There isn’t any other feeling like it in the world. Nothing can ever top this rush, but because our performances are so few and far between, I’ve been forced to find other things that really get my blood pumping.
When my eyes lock with my twin’s green ones, we both have the biggest grins on our face, I know he loves this, too—the euphoric energy from the crowd.
How can he not miss this?
How can he put anything above this? How can any of them?
Our band’s front man, Noel Falcon, chuckles into the mic as he stares out into the crowd. “Damn. You fuckers are insane. We’ve got one more song left for you.” He pauses, running his hand through his dark hair, giving the twenty thousand bodies here to see us perform time to respond, their screaming getting louder and louder. “I feel the love.” He readjusts his mic stand. “Since we’re all friends here, I’m gonna tell you all a little story about a girl who shredded my heart back in high school without any hesitation. It’s called ‘Ball Busting Bitch’. If you’ve ever had your heart fucked over by a woman, sing along.”
Noel smirks and the laughter in his eyes is evident. Ever since he married Lanie Vance, it’s pretty funny to see him keep up appearances with this song—even though he’s madly in love with that ball buster.
Trip kicks up the beat, and I thump away on the strings of my bass, creating our signature dark and dirty beat while we wait on Riff to join us, who makes the lead guitar scream like a woman in heat.
I close my eyes as the rhythm of our biggest hit pulses through my body. Music is the one thing I can completely lose myself in. When I’m in the moment, feeling the beat, I’m untouchable; nothing else matters but the way each note engulfs my soul, scorching itself onto me permanently, reminding me that music is what I live for. It’s what I was born to do.