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  STAR MAKER

  J.M. Nevins

  NIMBLE MINX PRESS

  COPYRIGHT AND CREDITS

  NIMBLE MINX PRESS

  32158 Camino Capistrano, Ste. A, PMB 370

  San Juan Capistrano, CA 92675

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2014 by J.M. Nevins

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Nimble Minx Press at www.nimbleminx.com/contact/

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Nevins, J.M.

  Star Maker / J.M. Nevins.—1st ed.

  ISBN 13 978-1-63315-443-8 (Epub edition)

  ISBN 10 1-63315-443-8

  1. Recording Industry—California—Los Angeles—Fiction 2. Hollywood (Los Angeles, California)—Fiction. 3. Music—Fiction. I. Title

  2014910894

  CREDITS:

  Cover design courtesy of pcmworks.com

  Cover photograph: © Hemera/Thinkstock (girl with guitar)

  DEDICATION

  To the music and the muse that dwells inside all of us.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  COPYRIGHT AND CREDITS

  DEDICATION

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  FREE STUFF

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  To my entire family, especially my parents, Dennis and Sylvia, who got me hooked on music from the start (with Dad being the first musician I knew), my grandmother, Mary Helen, who bought me my first keyboard and my first word processor, and to my amazing little brother, Dan, for your creative spirit. Thank you all for your constant, unending support of and my writing and me.

  To my Woodstock songbird and rock star cousin, the legendary Nancy Nevins. You’ve been a wonderful inspiration of true musicianship and artistry to me.

  To my two ultimate besties on the planet, Teri McCarty and Jana Watkins. Thank you for your abundant love and support. You’ve both been instrumental in helping me birth this labor of love all these years with your complete allegiance to my work and constant laughs about our sordid, highly colorful, musical past.

  To my music industry friends, bands, artists, and colleagues I’ve had the pleasure to know, work with, jam with, and gain countless hours of inspiration. There are too many of you to name and if I did, we’d be here all day, but I want to thank several of you directly for being part of my process: Doug Allen, Brandi Alexander, Chris Baseford, Terry Bozzio, Jeff Brooks, Christopher Cano, Roy Chen, Jonny Coffin, David Cooprider, Sky Dangcil, Richard Danielson, Ray Davies, Sean E. Demott, Greg Gurniak, Candice Han, Scott Humphrey, Dustin Jack, Kent Jacobs, Aetam Jakob, Chaz Karanikis, John P. Kellogg, Don Kirkpatrick, Xen Lang, Dave Lombardo, John Lowery, Randy Marshall, Xavier Marshall, Todd Moriarty, Amit Ofir, Finbar O’Hanlon, Damon Ranger, Dan Rastorfer, Steve Rinkov, Karl “Lake” Sachtleben, Rudy Sarzo, Aaron Silberman, Dan Sindel, Scott Stevens, Steve Stevens, and Meir Yaniv.

  To all that have helped along the way, pledged your undying support to me, my work, or all the above. A huge thanks to: Danielle Allen, Jeff Brooks, John C., Gretchen Cannon, Indigo Charles, Jennifer Nitchman-Chong, Lorna Cook, Peyton Cook, Tasha Cook, Staci Cooper, Lynne DuFresne, Kevin Equitz, Susanna Gaffney, Chanel Green, Cindy Hasko, Andrew Grant Jackson, Don Kirkpatrick, Marc Lisheski, Joyce Pastor Lucas, Phil Martin, Sarah Maxwell, Jeff McCarty, Karyn McIvor, Kelly Melanitis, Mitchy the cat (RIP), Thembisa Mshaka, Cyndi Newcomer, Barbara Newman, Jake Dawson Pool, Doug Sim, Wendy Smith, Audrey Shelton-Townson, Philip Von Wrede, Jana Watkins, Joanna Winsborough, and Siri Shiva S. Yogiji.

  And thank you to God for continually guiding my steps and making all of this possible.

  CHAPTER 1

  Summer 1984

  Kit awoke from her nap with a start. It wasn’t the sound of Van Halen screaming loudly from the speakers in the black, 1980 Camaro Z28 rocking down the highway at high speeds, or the fairly uncomfortable bucket seat that roused her. It was the shrill sound of sirens too close for comfort that strained to blare over the music.

  Her vibrant, green eyes immediately darted to the passenger side mirror and became wide with horror as she noticed a convoy of Nevada State Troopers in hot pursuit tailing the car, lights ablaze, while a thundering helicopter above paced them. She looked over at Joe, immediately frightened, as she raised her voice. “William Joseph Arden Valois, what the hell is going on?”

  He laughed loudly as they flew through a small dust cloud on Highway 15 just outside of Las Vegas. “High speed chase, baby.” His caramel brown eyes danced with excitement. “Isn’t this awesome?” He laughed again more maniacally.

  Kit heard the loudspeaker on the lead squad car demanding they pull over. She shook her head slowly with calculated disdain, growing more annoyed by the second with his spontaneous exploit. “Jesus Joe, would you please pull over.” She leaned over and noticed he was clocking close to one hundred ten miles per hour. Her eyes widened, she turned down the music, and yelled at the top of her lungs. “Pull over, now!”

  He giggled and glanced over at her. “Kitty-Kat, don’t be such a buzz kill. I was bored and had to find something to do while you were snoozing. I had no idea this would be so much fun!”

  She rolled her eyes and shot him a look. “Now, Joe! C’mon. I start law school in like a month. This isn’t going to look too good.”

  Always the eternal optimist, Joe smiled and his eyes lit up. “I can be your first client then, ‘cuz surely they’re gonna throw me in jail, hot stuff!”

  She folded her arms in front of her chest and huffed, but was relieved when she noticed the speed decreasing. She looked over at him. “You realize when they do throw you in jail you will be separated from your guitar. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.”

  He glanced over at her as he slowed down and moved over to the side of the highway, creeping along. He suddenly looked panic stricken. “Shit! I didn’t think about that.”

  She gave him a smug grin and nodded her head. “Yep, didn’t think so.”

  Their car came to a stop and the loud speaker from one of the trooper’s cars behind them yelled out telling them to slowly get out of the car with their hands up. Kit glanced over at him and chided, “And so the fun begins. Thanks for the memories, Joe. Never a dull moment with you, honey.” She sighed and got out of the car with her hands in the air, her back to the state troopers who had their guns drawn and trained on them.

  After a solid twenty minutes of questions asked and answered, they left Kit alone. She watched unfazed as they handcuffed Joe. He smiled and then opened his mouth wide, trying hard not to burst into laughter as they led him to the squad car. As much as she wanted to hate him in that moment, her face melted into a wicked grin as a quiet giggle escaped. She nodded in his direction and looked at one of the officers. “I’ll follow in his car.”

  Kit parked at the st
ation and walked in, instantly commanding the attention of all the male officers in the room. She used this to her favor and flashed a charming grin. Being a tall, pretty redhead with legs for days had its advantages. She sweetly asked the officer behind the desk where she could find her friend. He was mesmerized by her emerald green eyes and could barely manage a sentence before another uniformed officer led her to the holding cell. As she sauntered toward the cell occupied by Joe, she pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. The image before her proved entirely humorous. It was such a humbling sight for someone like him. There he sat on a cot, head hanging low as he leaned his elbows forward on his knees. Mr. Larger Than Life had fallen from grace.

  His long, straggly, layered, wavy, blond hair stood out like a sore thumb in the holding tank of that small Nevada town. The way he was dressed didn’t help matters either. Black, leather boots graced his feet and teamed up with the tight, red pants that clung to his spindly legs. A cut-up, sleeveless, rock ‘n’ roll concert T-shirt completed the look that made him appear like a freak by local standards, but clearly an aspiring rock god by Hollywood Sunset Strip standards.

  She walked up to the cell and grabbed a bar with each of her hands, sticking her head in between. “Aww, don’t look so sad. I thought you wanted to get caught, outlaw.”

  He lifted his head and his eyes lit up seeing her standing on the other side of the cell. He grinned and then sighed. “Sorry, Kit-Kat.” He shook his head. “I guess you’re right. I should grow up. I’ve only been sitting in here a few minutes and I miss my guitar already. Stupid stunt. It’s that whole thrills thing. Gets me every time.”

  She nodded and grinned. “Uh-huh, adrenaline junkie. Save that thought for dinner.”

  He chuckled. “Does that mean you’re actually getting me out of here?”

  “Yep. Give me some time. I’ll work a deal and post your bail. I have a feeling I know what you’re in for. Did they say anything to you?”

  He shook his head. “Not really. They said I was driving too fast. Something about being way too far over the legal speed limit.”

  She grinned. “Obviously. I’ll be back.”

  Kit made her way to find the officer in charge and pose a few strategic questions. She used all her knowledge from her undergraduate law classes to her advantage. Once again, the officers were captivated and willing to give her anything she wanted, including lessening the level of Joe’s reckless driving charges and putting in a good word with the judge. Satisfied, she returned fifteen minutes later and watched as the officer unlocked the cell door and freed Joe.

  He hugged Kit tightly and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.” He pulled back and gazed into her eyes. “That wasn’t as much fun as I thought in the end. Let’s get outta here. We can probably get to Cali by midnight if we punch it.”

  She chuckled and her voice drawled with sarcasm. “Oh, I see you really learned your lesson. Easy there, turbo. We’re stuck here until tomorrow. We’re gonna back track a little and stay in Vegas tonight. Cali will have to wait.”

  He frowned as he followed her out of the precinct. “Huh? Why?”

  She smirked. “You have a court appearance in the morning and I’m representing you. That’s the only way we’re going to get your charge lessened to a minor speeding infraction and it’s the only way they’ll let you leave the state. Nevada doesn’t like reckless driving pranksters much, especially a longhaired rocker from out of state joyriding on their highways. I made a deal for you and it was a good one. Fairly easy because you have no criminal record and the car was clean—no drugs, current registration in your name.”

  She gave him a stern look and pointed. “Don’t balk. If all goes like I think it will tomorrow morning, you’ll just have to pay a hefty fine and we’ll walk away from this. We’ll be in Hollywood by tomorrow night and it will be a distant memory, yet not at all a pleasant one.” She grinned.

  He laughed. “Ok, unless I can turn it into one. I think I’ll let you drive for the rest of the day. Let’s find a nice hotel in Vegas and get a penthouse suite. We’ll wash up and find a great restaurant. I’ll take you to dinner. Seems you deserve it. I’ve put you through enough. Especially considering I hid my drugs in the makeup bag in your suitcase. Good thing they didn’t find it.” He winked at her and smiled.

  Her eyes widened. “You did what?”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “Classic! I totally had you. There’s nothing in your suitcase. The car’s clean and so are we. I was yanking your chain. Nothing to worry about, babe. Sorry, got your heart rate racing with that one.”

  She chuckled and shook her head. “That’s just you being you. After all this time I should be used to these kinds of stunts. Yet somehow you still manage to surprise me.” She rolled her eyes. “Get in the car, fool.”

  Later that night, they sat across the table from each other at dinner. Joe grinned at her. “Y’know, you really are the best.”

  She took a sip of her beer and her eyes twinkled. “I don’t think I’ll ever tire of hearing you say that to me. You’ve been saying it since we were seven years old. But I must ask, do you ever plan on growing up, Joe?”

  He chuckled and smiled wide. “Hell no. I thought you figured that out by now, beautiful. C’mon, you’re awfully smart.” He winked.

  She laughed. “I’m glad we’re doing this. I’m moving to one of the biggest rock cities in the nation with one of my best friends ever.”

  He knocked back the last of his cocktail. “Yep. We’re gonna make it there, baby. You and me, we’re going places. We are.” He leaned forward on the table and gazed into her eyes. “I’m glad we’re doing this too. New York wasn’t where we were meant to be. It’s L.A. Are you sure you really want to be an attorney, Kit? Or is that your daddy talking? You’re such a brilliant musician and songwriter…”

  He was about to continue when she held up her hand to stop him and chugged the last of her beer. She flagged the server for another round and looked at Joe, shaking her head vehemently. “Uh-uh, no way. We don’t need to have this conversation again. That part of my life is over, Joe. I’ve made my decision and I’m sticking to it. I have two bands that I manage waiting for me in L.A. I promised I would manage you when you find a band out there. Getting a law degree specializing in entertainment will land me in a great record company if I play my cards right. Besides, I’ve been on the road and I didn’t like it. Too many boys in a smelly, sticky, stuffy tour bus ain’t my scene, babe. It’s over, Joe. There’s no turning back.”

  His caramel brown eyes bore into her as he stared purposely to put her on the spot. He wasn’t convinced. “Are you sure it isn’t because of him? Don’t let him win. Remember, he can’t find you anymore Kit. You’ve cleaned up your trail. You’re safe now. And I’ll make sure of that too.”

  She swallowed hard. Memories of her violent, possessive, ex-boyfriend were never comforting, more like disturbing. She was desperate to change the subject. She snorted and decided to make a joke to deflect the serious tone of their discussion. “Are you going to give up music in L.A. and be my new bodyguard, sweetie?”

  He laughed. “No, but I will definitely look out for you. And if you get sick of living with Lex, you can crash at my place.”

  Her eyes widened. “You got a place already and didn’t tell me?”

  He shook his head and frowned. “No, of course not. But I’ll find a cool one. All I have to do is throw money at someone and it will happen.”

  She sipped her new beer and then shook her head. “There are those rich boy antics of yours again.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Watch yourself, princess. Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black, my childhood Lake Forest neighbor who grew up in a mansion? A mansion, Kit. Really.”

  She sighed. “That mansion belongs to my grandmother and you know it. I only lived there part-time.”

  He laughed and shook his head. “Uh, ok. Whatever. Like your dad’s place was a shack. C’mon, you could easily land a Cessna in
the foyer of his house, Kit.”

  She rolled her eyes. “My dad’s house isn’t half as big as my grandmother’s and you know it. Besides, I left that all behind when I moved to Philly. You know that.”

  He chuckled and shook his head, refuting her statement. “You lie like a rug.”

  She stared at him. “Ok, so my dad did put me through college at Penn. He did pay for everything, but he’s not doing it anymore. He’s pissed about my choices, so I have to float on my own dime until I turn twenty-five and then I’ll get my trust fund.”

  Joe grinned. “Oh, bummer. Have to wait that long, huh? Don’t worry, Daddy still loves you Kit-Kat, otherwise he wouldn’t have bought you that beautiful, cherry red, convertible Porsche 911 for graduation that’s probably made its way safely to L.A. on the semi truck transport by now.”

  She shook her head. “No, Joe. I’m serious. My dad and I aren’t even speaking. I only have that car left and it was given to me as a present from my very generous grandmother.”

  He laughed and joked. “Nana’s got style! Hot damn!”

  She giggled and sipped her beer. “Nana didn’t pick it out, my brother did. He knew what I would like. My dad told her not to do it.” She flashed a devilish smile. “She did it anyway.”

  He grinned. “Sounds just like her. I’ve always liked your Grandma Tilly—the little spitfire. That’s where you get all that sassiness from, sassy pants.” He nodded knowingly.

  She grinned. “And my musical talent for sure. Anyway, I bought all my guitars on my own dime. I’m putting myself through law school. All I have floating me right now is my savings that I put together on my own managing bands in Philly. Like I said, my dad is livid. He wanted me at Harvard Law studying corporate litigation so I could eventually be an associate, then managing partner at his firm in Chicago. Yuck!”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Ok. Well, if you get into a bind, you can count on me. You know that. I can float you on one condition.”