A long-forgotten cry for help is discovered years later. A woman trapped in a self-imposed prison on an isolated farm makes her break for freedom with the sudden appearance of a modern knight. Unfortunately, her controlling partner is hostile but can’t find her. Across the country, the fleeing couple help/rescue several forsaken individuals and families until she meets her partner in Dallas, Texas to say goodbye face-to-face.
Excerpt:
The last number for the final show in Alberta, Canada, ended. Maureen Lannon, the band leader, her manager and producer, Patrice Westfield, and several band members stood in front of the audience of 19,000 plus. She bowed at the applause and clamor for more. First, Maureen dropped to her knees, wearing faded denim jeans and a yellow plaid cotton shirt with the cuffs rolled up two turns. It was the outfit fans chose, requested, and begged for her to wear after her third concert in Ireland. She ignored the sweaty raven hair tied back in a ponytail, held both hands to her mouth, flung a huge kiss to them, keyed her public microphone, and yelled to be heard, “I love you. I love you. You’re the greatest! Wahoo!”
The rest of the band joined her and then they stood to chants and demands of “Vanessa! Vanessa!”
Maureen shook her head and bowed again as she waved to her drummer, Vanessa Charles. “Come on, honey. They want to give you a special thanks!”
Vanessa took her drumsticks with her and jogged across the stage to stand with Maureen, thrilled with the cat calls, whistles and stomping feet.
Maureen patted her shoulders as she moved her to the front. “You got quite a following, honey. Please give them a huge kiss like I did. Then you might consider an autograph session tonight.”
Vanessa beamed and knelt to do just that. Then she held up her drumsticks and semi-quiet returned. She winked, stuck the tips in her mouth, pulled them out, and jumped to her feet as she flung them into the bleachers. She laughed and enjoyed the fight that broke out to see who would catch one.
Finally, two men stood holding them over their heads and grinning like champions.
Maureen put a hand across her forehead and stared at the stage floor. “Fling her ass off the stage and be done with her.”
Patrice rested a hand on her shoulder for support. “Easy. Don’t do it.”
“I won’t, but I’ll damned sure think it. Wench!”
Vanessa did not see the stress she caused. Instead, she blew another kiss, removed her blouse, knotted it among more chaotic shouting, and flung it into the bleachers, causing a massive fight as cameras flashed to get pictures of her in her bra.
The sound system shut down, and the audience began to spew from the bleachers. Patrice patted Maureen’s shoulder.
“That girl is going to cause serious trouble.”
“I know!”
“Why don’t you let her go?”
Maureen gritted her teeth and suppressed a scream. “You know already! Because she has such a huge fan base. Pisses me off that the last estimate of this show was 65% just to see her perform! How can I justify letting someone like that, with that pull, go and begin from nothing? That’s a big dilemma for me. That’s why she’s still here but acts like tonight are grating on my nerves.”
“Want me to talk with her or fire her?”
Maureen sighed and swiped her face as the band broke down their equipment. It was the ninth show of the tour, with the final show being in Dallas, Texas, and then home to Ireland for a much-needed break.
“Maybe. I’ll think of something. I have to soon.”
With that comment voiced Vanessa danced across the stage and stood beside them. “Wasn’t that thrilling? I simply love it! What an audience! What a fan club!”
Maureen snorted. “What a slut performance.”
“What? What do you mean by that?”
“What I mean is, there was no need for you to French Kiss the drumsticks and toss them into the stands like that. And even if it was necessary, tossing your blouse second was more unnecessary. You want to have a sex tart following, do it on your own time, not on mine.”
“Hey, you know how many people come to these shows to see me?”
Her jaw muscles tightened considerably, and so did her fists, but she restrained herself. “I’m aware of that, Vanessa Charles! And you need to be aware that this is a Celtic Band. We provide Celtic music entertainment to our fans and audiences! We don’t provide sexual entertainment or sexual antics like you did tonight! Every member is here for the whole band, not for themselves! And if you keep this sex-tart attitude and show going for yourself, you’ll find yourself doing it for yourself! I’m fed up with that side of you and I’m not going to tolerate it too much longer! I’ll replace you and restore the image that we started with! When you get the urge to do your own performance the next time, remember who signs your paycheck! You’re the Payee, not the Authorized Signature, which is me!”
