Needing The Memories (The Rocker...Novella #1) Read online

  “Me too,” I told her honestly. “Want to get dressed and take them breakfast?”

  The sadness evaporated, quickly replaced with a joy that was so powerful it knocked the air from my body. “Can we? Don’t you have more things planned for us?”

  I shrugged. “Just more memories we could make. But I’d rather make them with our daughters.” The darkness was gone now. All I could see was the sunshine—the peace and the joy that my angel had given me yet again. “What about you?”

  “Yes, definitely yes.” She leaned in close, kissing me quick and hard. “And we can make some delicious ones in our own bed tonight when they’re asleep,” she promised with a wicked wink.

  Epilogue

  Lana

  The ticking of the clock was irritating. The way every person in the room seemed to be breathing on me—at me—made me want to rip their heads off. I was pretty sure I could even hear Linc and Shane eating from the waiting room down the hall.

  The door opened and a pair of squeaky shoes walked across the clean tiled floor, as the man wearing them came into view. The doctor smiled sweetly down at me, taking in my sweaty brow, my pale yet flushed skin, the killer glare shooting daggers at him from my eyes.

  “So who’s ready to have a baby?” he asked as he rubbed his hands together in what I assumed was wicked glee at my pain.

  Beside me, Drake was trying to be the peace-keeper, and I loved him for it. But he was breathing too damn hard and I wanted to smother him with the poor excuse for a pillow that was under my head. He did this to me. He put this baby in my stomach when he’d planned that sweet night out to give us both new memories. Memories weren’t all that sweet when I was almost nine centimeters dilated, with no drugs to dull the pain and a doctor who was amused by my suffering.

  This pregnancy had been the hardest of all my others. I’d had morning sickness for seven months and then at thirty-two weeks I’d had some bleeding and contractions that had been bad enough to put me on bed rest.

  This was the last time. The very last time. Drake had been the one to say it first, when I’d been first put on bed rest. No more babies. No more letting fate decide how many kids we had. I’d agreed because I’d been scared out of my mind. I couldn’t face another miscarriage and if I’d lost this baby too, I was pretty sure I would have lost my mind. Thankfully, bed rest had helped, but I’d had to stay on it for the last eight weeks.

  Now here we were, in the private delivery room with all our family in the waiting room waiting on when the newest Stevenson daughter came screaming into the world. I hadn’t even needed them to tell me on the ultrasound if it was a girl or not. I knew it was, and even though I longed for a son, I was still thrilled to add another daughter to our happy family.

  Two nurses came into the room, getting everything ready for the baby’s arrival. I tried to focus on them rather than the contractions that were tearing my body apart every forty-five seconds. I’d only been in labor for four hours, but I was exhausted. This baby, who was nameless because we had yet to agree on one for her, was bigger than any of my others. The last ultrasound I’d had put her at over nine pounds.

  And I was feeling everything she was ripping apart inside me as she tried to force her way into the world. I couldn’t wait to hold her, but first, I had to survive this damn delivery.

  The doctor moved forward, snapping on gloves and checking my cervix. “Well, well. Ten centimeters.” He grinned at Drake. “Would you like to deliver this one, Mr. Stevenson?”

  Drake’s already pale face went gray, his blue-gray eyes getting a haunted look in them. He’d been so strong for me over the weeks that I’d been a prisoner in my own bed. When the first contraction had hit me that morning, he’d been my rock. Helping me breathe through the pain, wiping my brow, feeding me ice chips… More than anything he’d stood there and let me scream abuses at him and any other person who dared make the slightest annoying noise—which was everyone on the fucking planet.

  I reached for his hand as yet another contraction wracked through my sore, exhausted body. “I need you up here with me,” I told him, trying to keep from yelling at the doctor who was trying to take away the last thread of sanity I had. “Please.”

  He nodded his head over and over again. “Yeah, Angel. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

  The doctor chuckled and then started doing his thing as one of the nurses pushed a cart over to him that would help him deliver our last daughter. “Okay, Lana. You can start pushing anytime.”

  “You’re such an asshole,” I growled at him as I started pushing.

  Why had I done this naturally? I couldn’t help wondering for the thousandth time that day. Why had I thought this delivery would be easy and I could do it without an epidural? Because I was a damn idiot, that’s why. I’d had all my other girls naturally, although I’d questioned that decision repeatedly throughout those deliveries as well. But this time, it was so much worse. I could have been run over by a fucking Mack truck and it wouldn’t have hurt so bad.

  “Almost there,” the doctor assured me three pushes later. “A little suction.” He was fucking talking to himself now. His hands were messing with something that was going to kill me if he didn’t stop soon. “Okay, Lana, an easy push. That’s it, a little more. Stop.”

  Stop? I’d felt the head come out, so what was he telling me to stop for? It was physically impossible to stop now, damn it!

  That’s when I felt it. The tearing pain as something ripped. Her shoulders were huge—making my pain-filled delirious mind think that she actually had angel wings and other crazy shit for a minute. Hell, I just knew I was going to have a sick scar when this was all over.

  “Okay. We’re ready. One last push.”

  “I fucking hate you,” I screamed at the man as I leaned forward, pushing with all my might. The pain only intensified. It was like being sliced open with a white-hot blade and I almost begged him for an episiotomy. The doctor cutting me couldn’t have possibly hurt as bad as the tearing that this kid was doing.

  The cry that filled the room quickly made me forget the pain as the baby was pulled from me. Tears of joy filled my eyes and I dropped back onto the bed, shaking from the relief after so much pain. I felt Drake’s lips on my sweaty forehead, heard his whispers of praise and love, but I had eyes only for the squealing little demon in the doctor’s arms.

  Through my tears, though, I was sure I was seeing things. Maybe I was having delusions or something, because…

  No.

  It couldn’t possibly be.

  A shot of hope filled my chest and I reached out my arms for the baby. “A boy?” I whispered as my son was put against my chest. His head went over my heart and, at the sound of the heartbeat that had been his lullaby for forty weeks, he was instantly calmed.

  “A boy,” the doctor confirmed, not surprised at all.

  “But…” I didn’t understand it. We had four daughters. I’d been so sure this one was a girl too, that I didn’t dare let myself hope for a boy. There had been no boy names mentioned. No boy clothes bought. And Drake had always said he wanted all girls. His little army of angels.

  My eyes lifted to him, his face alight with joy as he gazed down at us. “We have a son,” he said with awe in his voice.

  The baby was already snuffling around my chest, looking for his dinner. I adjusted him so that he could latch on to my breast, and finally was able to see his adorable little face. What greeted me stopped my heart as love and wonder shot through me like a super force. He hadn’t been cleaned off yet, but that didn’t hide the shape of his face. He was a little replica of Drake.

  “Do we have a name or should I just put ‘Baby Stevenson,’” one of the nurses asked from across the room.

  My head shot up, my eyes connecting with Drake’s. “We don’t have much of anything for a boy.”

  “Of course we do, Angel.” He ran a caressing finger over our son’s cheek. “We have an entire house full of li
ttle angels at home, but this is our little demon. Don’t you think?”

  “I’m not calling my son ‘Demon,’” I told him, only half joking.

  His eyes shone with amusement. “How about Damian instead?”

  “Damian.” I tested the name on my tongue. “Damian Shiloh Stevenson?” Shiloh had been one of the girl names that we had been on the fence about, but I had to admit it suited our son.

  “Perfect.” Drake lowered his head and kissed first his son and then me. “Welcome to the world, little dude. You’re gonna be the most spoiled boy on the planet with all your sisters to watch over you.”

  If you’ve made it this far that means you’ve enjoyed my The Rocker…Series. Or you haven’t read any of the books and are now using this guide to learn the bare necessities so you can pretend to know what your friends are talking about. Either way, you’re here now. Thank you for picking up a copy of Needing the Memories. Drake has always been readers’ favorite character out of this series and I wanted to give you a taste of what life after the Epilogue has been like for this once broken rocker.

  I just want to take a quick moment to say one little thing.

  Thank you.

  Thank you for loving these rockers as much as I do.

  Thank you for wanting more.

  Thank you for standing with me through each release and making them so successful.

  Thank you for taking these rockers into your hearts and treating them like long lost friends.

  Thank you, thank you, thank you.

  Okay, sappy part’s over.

  Reading Order

  The Rocker Who Holds Me

  The Rocker Who Savors Me

  The Rocker Who Needs Me

  The Rocker Who Loves Me

  The Rocker Who Holds Her

  The Rockers’ Babies

  The Rocker Who Wants Me

  The Rocker Who Cherishes Me

  The Rocker Who Shatters Me

  The Rocker Who Hates Me

  The Rocker Who Betrays Me

  Forever Rockers

  Emmie

  She’s the fiery redhead who is the Demon’s Wings’ manager, but also their life line. Growing up, the four members of the band took care of her, protecting her from her monster of a mother as much as they could. Now she’s the one taking care of them, trying to repay a debt she knows she can never fully fulfill. The Demons would fall apart without her. She’s stubborn and loyal to a fault, but the mere idea of change in her life scares the hell out of her. Finding out she’s pregnant after only one stolen night with Nik terrifies her. Because of her childhood she’s sure that she will fuck up her children and couldn’t possibly be a good mother. Having convinced herself that she took advantage of Nik she’s dumbfounded when he confesses he’s loved her for years. Her fear of change won’t let her think about becoming his wife until she realizes that she might lose him.

  Emmie was the first, but she was also meant to be the last. My writing wasn’t going anywhere—it wasn’t meant to go anywhere, period. It was just something I did in my spare time that made me happy and relieved stress. We had just moved the previous March and I was ready to head back to nursing school. So I put The Rocker Who Holds Me up for sale, didn’t even edit it, and forgot all about it for a while. So you can imagine my surprise when suddenly I kept getting messages from bloggers and readers asking—demanding—more. I had to make the difficult decision of whether I should put school on hold and focus on writing for a little while to see what happened next, or just say forget it all and be done with it. Of course, two months later Jesse was ready to go on sale and Drake was out in July of that year.

  Everyone asks me if Emmie is based off of a real person and I always tell them the truth—yes she is, and no she’s not. Yes, she has experienced some hardships in life that are from people who I’ve walked with in life. No, because Emmie is unlike any other person I’ve ever met or am likely to ever meet in my life.

  Nik

  He might be the vocals in Demon’s Wings, but he’s also the quiet one in the family. He lets Emmie do her thing, but knows when to step up and take charge. He’s the type of guy who loves his friends and family fiercely, but if someone isn’t lucky enough to be part of his small circle of loved ones, he couldn’t care less about them. He’s loved Emmie all his life. First as the little dirty tear stained faced little girl who became his “baby doll”. That love grows over the years until he can’t fight it any longer. Emmie’s pregnancy nearly destroys him until she tells him he’s the father. Mia strengthens the love he has for Emmie, but getting her to marry him isn’t as easy as he thought it might be.

  When I started writing The Rocker Who Holds Me, I wasn’t sure who Emmie would end up with until the third chapter. I mean, seriously, she could have easily ended up with any one of those Demons. I’m so glad it was Nik though. I think I had more fun writing his story than I did Emmie’s novella. Some people have said he was too quiet in the series and that he was kind of forgettable, but I have to disagree. Nik might be quiet, but I could never forget him. He’s too much of everything that keeps Emmie sane for me to forget that particular yummy Demon.

  Jesse

  He’s the Demon’s Wings family patriarch. From the first time he saw Emmie she became the only person who mattered in the world. He’s the only father figure she’s ever known. Meeting Layla changes everything for him. She brings out the best parts of him and he can’t keep his hands off her. Their chemistry ignites instantly and before either of them realize it, love has snuck up on them. For once he’s ready to step back from Emmie and focus on a life with Layla and the two sisters she has to take care of. Adopting Lucy was only a formality for him because like Emmie, she was his little girl from the second he sets eyes on her. He will do anything for his wife and children, but isn’t blind to what is best for them, even if it means stepping back and letting them lead their own lives.

  I get asked every other day who is my favorite out of all the Rocker guys. I never hesitate. Jesse will always be my number one. Always. Why? I created him with my husband’s personality in mind. Not so much in looks, though. I mean Jesse is this beast of a man, sure, but he keeps his head shaved smooth, has those killer brown eyes and plays the drums. Mike is six foot one, has a full head of dark hair, and the most amazing green eyes that I’ve ever seen. No, it was his personality that was front and center when Jesse took care of Emmie when she woke up one morning wanting bacon and cheese grits the way her mother used to make. It was Mike I saw when Jesse lost it when he thought he was going to lose Lucy to her biological father. Ten years from now, someone might ask me if he’s still my favorite, and I can honestly tell them yes.

  Layla

  She’s had a harder life than most. Kicked out at the age of sixteen, she tried to reach out to her rock star father, Tommy Kirkman. When that falls through, she only has herself to depend on. She becomes a stripper to pay the bills, but when her mother dies, leaving her with two younger sisters to take care of, she has to find a ‘respectable’ job so she can keep them. Meeting Emmie was the best thing to ever happen to her and they become friends immediately. Jesse takes her by surprise and she’s helpless to stop the explosion of emotions he’s erupted in her.

  Layla was fun to write. I liked her personality and the way she would do anything to keep Lucy and Lana with her. There were times later on in the series that I wanted to slap her a few times, though. Especially in Needing the Memories. Once or twice I’ve contemplated what would happen if one of the Rockers got a divorce, and each time I saw it as Jesse and Layla for some reason, but I would never do that.

  Drake & Lana

  You can’t describe Drake without including Lana. It just isn’t possible. This particular Demon has a lifetime of nightmares to overcome, and they are definitely the kind of nightmares no child should ever have to face. To escape them he’s hid in a bottle, but not even that can help him turn off the tragic past. Of the four Demons he is the most broken,
and Lana is his only salvation, the Angel he needs to calm his inner Demon.

  For Lana, she never thought she would ever fall for a rocker. She’s witnessed the life they live, and wants nothing to do with it. Until she meets Drake and the rest of the Demons. He’s different than any other man she’s ever met and their friendship turns into something so much more for her. Her age gets in the way and after a night he still can’t remember, Lana realizes the best thing for both of them is distance.

  Getting sober is all Drake can think about so he can finally be worthy of his Angel. There are parts of their story that will bring you to your knees, parts that will make you want to smack both of these characters in the face and tell them to wake the fuck up. But in the end, these two are the readers’ #1 favorite out of the entire series, and they always leave you wanting more.

  This book—this couple—nearly killed me when I was writing it. Drake was so beautifully broken and I’d have to stop at times and walk away from my computer because I couldn’t see the damn screen through my tears. I hate books about cheating, yet I wrote that into this book. I hated myself for about three days after writing that fucking scene with Lana having to listen at the door. But no matter how many times I tried to delete that scene, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Lana is, in my opinion, stronger than any other chick in this series simply because she was able to forgive Drake so wholeheartedly.

  While third in the series, The Rocker Who Needs Me was the first to get me on USA Today bestsellers list, and it stayed there for two weeks. I was at Disney World when I got the news the first week, and it really was the happiest place on earth for me that day. I’d never expected one of my books to get there, ever, and now I’ve been there nine times. My readers are amazing and I love each and every one of them for helping to make The Rocker…Series so popular.