AFTERWORD
In case you haven’t noticed, almost all of the chapter titles are songs. Favorite’s of mine, actually. Check them out:
- After School Special – Mr. Bungle (too weird? Listen to Retrovertigo instead)
- Spookshow Baby – Rob Zombie
- Even Deeper – Nine Inch Nails
- Big Dumb Sex - Soundgarden
- Butterfly Caught – Massive Attack
- She’s Got a Way – Billy Joel
- Stripsearch - Faith No More (the song playing during the scene)
- Digging the Grave – Faith No More
- When Good Dogs Do Bad Things – Dillinger Escape Plan
- She Loves Me Not – Faith No More
- Maxwell’s Silver Hammer – The Beatles
- Mr. Self-Destruct - Nine Inch Nails
- Demon Cleaner/Bailout - Kyuss
Actually just play Nine Inch Nails, all albums, on shuffle...THAT is Dex’s mind.
If you want to listen to the songs, please visit my playlist on the Official Experiment in Terror Website, HERE.
I love to interact with readers on Twitter or my EIT Facebook Page
Coming in September from Metal Blonde Books
“Almost Famous meets The Devil’s Advocate in this sexy new adult horror.”
It’s the summer of 1974 and 21-year old Dawn Emerson has only three things she wants to do: compete one last time in the Ellensburg Rodeo, win back her ex-boyfriend Ryan, and become the best damn music journalist at Central Washington University. But all her plans are left in the dust when she’s contacted by Creem magazine to go on the road with one of her favorite groups, the up-and-coming metal band, Hybrid.
At first the assignment reads like a dream come true. Not only will Dawn land some much-needed credibility as a female music journalist, but she’ll finally get to experience life from the other side of the stage, and maybe crack the drunken, enigmatic code that is guitarist Sage Knightly. Instead, Dawn finds herself on an aging tour bus filled with ego-maniacs, band politics and a whole lot of sex, drugs and rock n’ roll. When monsters start showing up in dressing rooms and some of Sage’s groupies become increasingly strange and dangerous, Dawn discovers the band is not only going places – they’re going straight to Hell.
And Dawn has a backstage pass.
An excerpt from The Devil’s Metal
Mel ripped off her sunglasses and gave me the stare down. She had won the staring contest against my horse earlier – I was powerless. I looked down at my hands and dirty fingernails.
“Are you calling them girls sluts because of the way they’re dressed, cuz, damn child you must think I’m a downright ho in my little booty boobie get-up here,” she said with full-on attitude.
“You’re not a groupie,” I protested feebly.
“Who cares? I could be. What’s wrong with trying to get some rock and roll tail? Sex is sex Dawn, even for the wrong reasons. I thought you were all for this women’s liberation shit and bra burning.”
I looked down at my chest. “I didn’t need those bras anyway.”
She put her hand on my shoulder. She wasn’t gentle. Mel could fly off the handle and you never wanted her on your bad side.
“It doesn’t mean you have to spread your legs if you don’t want to,” she told me in her I’m-a-year-older-let-me-lecture-you voice. “But let those girls be those girls. You be yourself, loosen up, and maybe, just maybe, if you try the groupie angle, you’ll end up getting the real story.”
I gave her fingers a quick kiss before shrugging them off. “You are a terrible influence Miss Melanie Jones.”
She laughed, throwing her head back. “And you need a good shag, Miss Dawn Emerson. You can’t have the rock n’ roll without the sex. And drugs. Speaking of…”
She brought out her saddlebag purse and pulled out a joint from her slim cigarette case.
“What did I say about thinking clearly,” I reminded her. But I ended up taking a quick puff anyway. Pot was good for the musical experience and clearly I needed to loosen up a little. I felt as tense as the coming storm.
We got out of the car sufficiently high. I gathered my confidence, threw back my shoulders and the two of us strode proudly toward the entrance to The Ripper. We were getting second glances from a lot of the guys. Naturally the sight of a short, curvy black girl and a tall red-head garnered a lot of attention in itself, plus there were Mel’s boobs swinging around in her top and that flirtatious smile of hers. If they could get past the mess of hair and the horse-shit boots, I knew deep down I wasn’t anything to sneeze at either. But was I “beat out the groupies and score an interview with a rock-star” hot? That remained to be seen.