Music City Dreamers Read online

  Music City Dreamers

  Louie Francis is ready for another life and she’s going to make it happen. When she sets out to make her dreams of being a songwriter in Nashville come true, she has no idea what’s in store, but she’s determined to be the person she’s always wanted to be.

  Like a zillion other people, Heather King had dreams of being the next Country superstar. But it isn’t long before she figures out her real talent is in discovering the next big thing, and her dream of creating her own label is within reach. If only she can play the game just a little longer…

  When they meet at the Bluebird Café, sparks fly. But Heather knows what being an out lesbian in Nashville would do to her career. Louie isn’t willing to be anything other than exactly who she is. Thrust together to work with Country royalty, they must figure out how to be Music City dreamers without losing themselves and, ultimately, each other.

  What Reviewers Say About Robyn Nyx’s Work

  Never Enough

  “Nyx’s debut is a grim but entertaining thriller that makes up for some truly grisly moments of violence with two well-realized heroines. …But readers who can handle the gory content will find it well balanced by plenty of romance and copious amounts of sex, as well as a solid cast of supporting characters and some insightful handling of contemporary social issues.”—Publishers Weekly

  Escape in Time

  “As an opening to the Extractor Trilogy, Escape In Time is the perfect introduction as it introduces main characters Landry and Delaney who have a complicated friendship, lifestyles and job. The perfect mix of sci-fi and history, the story is fascinating and will make you think!”—LesBiReviewed

  Change in Time

  “I didn’t think it was possible to top the first in the Extractor Series by Robyn Nyx but I was wrong. Change in Time is exciting, tense, romantic and sexy.”—Kitty Kat’s Book Review Blog

  Death in Time

  “A seriously impressive end to this amazing trilogy! …The mission is full-on action that never lets up.”—Kitty Kat’s Book Review Blog

  Music City Dreamers

  Brought to you by

  eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.

  Music City Dreamers

  © 2019 By Robyn Nyx. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13:978-1-63555-208-9

  This Electronic Book is published by

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, NY 12185

  First Edition: January 2019

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

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editor: Cindy Cresap

  Production Design: Susan Ramundo

  Cover Design by Robyn Nyx

  By the Author

  The Extractor Trilogy

  Escape in Time

  Change in Time

  Death in Time

  Never Enough

  Music City Dreamers

  Acknowledgments

  My thanks, as always, go to Rad and Sandy for keeping Bold Strokes Books the best publisher in the world for lesfic authors. You keep the bar high, and I’m really proud to be part of your company.

  This story began with the introduction of Louie in Change in Time. She demanded her own book, and this is it (without Landry’s money because that just wouldn’t make sense to anyone who hadn’t read the Extractor trilogy). So, a heartfelt thanks to my editor, Cindy, for showing me the ropes of contemporary romance without resorting to strangling me with them.

  Thanks to my parents for reading my books. I love that you enjoy them so much. Your support when I was a kid made this dream of being an author a possibility.

  And thank you to my wonderful wife, Brey, who boots me up the ass every day to keep me writing.

  Dedication

  For my beautiful lady, Brey.

  You’re my fluffy romance novel personified.

  Chapter One

  Aaron Collins had been the vice-president of Rocky Top’s A&R department for over ten years and was credited with saving the label from bankruptcy as the record industry floundered in the face of the digital revolution. Collins pioneered the music streaming business model, and shares in Rocky Top have continued to rise exponentially since.

  Rocky Top president Donny Taylor refused to comment, but inside sources say Collins was fired because of his sexuality. Nashville hasn’t had a scandal like this since Caren Wright came out as a—”

  Louie Francis hit the mute button. She didn’t want to hear about the homophobia on the Nashville music scene, especially since she’d finally scraped enough money together to pursue her own country dream. She pulled out her phone and checked her savings account. A little under five thousand dollars. It wasn’t much to show for a year at the WoodBack Bar, doing unsavory things for even more unsavory people. But it was more than she’d ever have been able to save by working at the GrindStar coffee shop alone, like she had been doing when she and Mia were saving for their future together. Damn you, Mia. An image of the perfectly poised beauty Louie used to call her sweetheart forced its way, unannounced and unwanted, into her mind. It was closely followed by the memory of Louie finding their apartment and shared account cleaned out.

  Louie looked at her watch: eleven a.m. She poured herself a quick shot of cheap bourbon anyway. After the solid burn made its way along her throat, the warm sensation snaked through her veins and tranquilized her thumping heart. It was time to stop making excuses and just go for it, time to get out of this place and get her life back on track.

  Mia made another unsolicited showing in her mind, and Louie rubbed her forehead, trying to erase it. Had Mia made it to Music City? She was a talented woman. Louie had no doubt that if she had made it to Nashville, Mia would be doing just fine. But now it was Louie’s time.

  ***

  Louie smiled at her GrindStar manager and slipped past him to retrieve a small selection of her belongings from a temporary locker. His name was Deighton, or Dean, or something beginning with a D, but Louie couldn’t bring it to mind. And it didn’t help that he wouldn’t wear a badge. She supposed he thought it was some sort of power play to remind the baristas who was in charge, but Louie believed it was to prevent the customers from complaining directly to him because they had no idea he worked there. GrindStar baristas across the nation had to present in a sharp pink polo shirt and navy chinos. His uniform was ill-fitting trousers that were way too long for his short stature and way too tight for his keg-sized beer belly, and he wore a button-down shirt that threatened to pop open and blind someone with projectile buttons.

  “What are you doing, Francis? You’re already ten minutes late for your shift.”

  Her smile broadened as she realized this was the last time she’d have to put up with his droning voice. “I’m not working my shift, this one or any other. It’s time for me to leave this wonderful establishment.”

  Keg-belly’s face reddened, and the vein in the middle of his forehead seemed to double in size.

  “Get your coat off and get on the shop floor. Now.”

  Louie dropped her wallet and other possessions into the same beat-up leather satchel she’d had since high school and shook her head. “Sorry, boss. I’m out of here.” She unpinne
d her name badge from her shirt and tossed it to him. She hated name badges; there was never a good place to position them that didn’t give permission to pervy guys to stare at women’s breasts. Not that that had ever been a problem for her. Unless it counted when guys were rude enough to ask where the hell her breasts were.

  He fumbled the catch and yelled after her, “If you step out of that door, you’ll never work in another GrindStar in this country.”

  “Let’s hope not.” Louie offered a wave as she opened the door and headed to the bank to withdraw enough money to buy a truck. It would be her transport and her home if necessary. But she couldn’t spend a minute longer being tainted by this city. Failure be damned, she was taking one step closer to her dream.

  Chapter Two

  Heather King raked her fingers through her hair in an attempt to finger-comb it into some semblance of acceptability. It needed a wash, but she’d been so desperate for the extra hour in bed after watching new talent at the Bluebird until two a.m. that she’d sprayed on some dry shampoo and hoped for the best. Mistake. Her boss, Donny, was meeting with the current Queen of Country, and he’d sprung it on her that Savana wanted Heather present. How Savana Hayes even knew Heather existed was beyond her comprehension, but the looming meeting had made her so paranoid about the state of her long hair that cutting it all off had crossed her mind. At least then it wouldn’t take two hours to wash, dry, and straighten.

  “You’re the new A&R VP. I guess that’s why she wants you there. You make damn sure you say all the right things, girl. And if it’s just so she can look at your pretty face while we negotiate her contract, keep that sparkling smile plastered on it.”

  Donny’s barked instruction knotted her insides tighter than they already were. His utter oafishness and lack of interpersonal skills were a particularly unfavorable concoction. She’d hoped that her new promotion might mean that he’d show her more respect, but it seemed his sexism was only suspended in the presence of the owner of Rocky Top, Lexi Turner. This hadn’t been her dream when the hiss of the Greyhound bus doors opening announced her arrival in Nashville. She was supposed to be the next Savana Hayes, not sit around being her eye candy. Though that was a stupid thing for Donny to say. Savana wasn’t interested in women. And even if she was, Heather was sure he wouldn’t know it. After the way the country community abandoned Caren White when she came out a few years before, no one seemed in a big hurry to follow in her rhinestone-adorned footsteps.

  Her thoughts drifted inevitably to her mentor, Aaron, and his recent dismissal from the company. He’d brought her into Rocky Top. He’d been her mentor for over five years, and he was the reason she was the new A&R veep. Heather didn’t want to believe that Donny had only promoted her to Aaron’s position to bolster his heterosexuality because he felt threatened by Aaron’s sexuality, but she couldn’t help it. And Aaron had always challenged Donny’s lascivious comments to female staff. With Aaron out of the picture, he could be as much of a bigoted boar as he wanted to be, and what better way to prove his masculinity than lord his power over a new female vice-president?

  Heather took a deep breath and followed Donny to the glass-walled boardroom to wait for Savana’s arrival. The thirty-foot-long table was covered with a vast array of fresh fruit and around fifty chilled individual small bottles of water. Savana’s management team had been very specific about her requirements for the meeting, including the condition that it could be no longer than seventy-five minutes in duration. If negotiations were to go on longer than that, the meeting would have to be adjourned for two and a half hours before Savana would return. Heather wondered what kind of country superstar she would’ve made if she hadn’t given up on her dream. She was sure she wouldn’t be that kind of diva.

  Donny positioned himself at the head of the table, and Heather waited until he indicated where he wanted her. She sat to his left and smoothed her skirt over her knees. Though she preferred skirts generally, when she started at Rocky Top, the lecherous looks from male colleagues forced her to opt for trouser suits. And Aaron was fine with that. But after firing Aaron and promoting Heather, Donny had sent her home to change so she looked “like a woman,” which he underlined by telling her that meant she should always wear a skirt to work. It wasn’t like her suits were masculine in any way, and neither was Heather. Irony was she loved wearing skirts, but his demands were like reverse psychology and made her hate wearing skirts to work.

  “Would you like your usual?”

  The soft voice of Donny’s assistant, Mandie, was a pleasant contrast to the sound of Donny on his phone. “Sure, that’d be great.” Heather smiled and Mandie turned to make her a milky white drink that barely passed as coffee.

  “Anything good at the gig last night?” Donny asked after tossing his cell phone onto the table with a muttered curse.

  Heather shook her head. “Maybe. I made a recording of one guy I’d like you to listen to.” She closed her eyes briefly and the deep, smooth sound of the artist filled her ears. He was an amazing singer and played the guitar beautifully, but he didn’t exactly personify the archetypal country singer. He was black, and his buzz cut and tattoos gave him a look that would have been less incongruous at a stereotypical rap battle. But he definitely had the talent, and if Heather had her own label, she’d sign him in a heartbeat.

  But she didn’t. Not yet. Donny called the shots at Rocky Top Country Music, and beyond him, Nashville didn’t have a penchant for embracing any kind of otherness. It’d been over a decade since Darius Rucker had entered country music, and despite his success, he had yet to be inducted to the Grand Ole Opry. It was still a heterosexual, white male bastion.

  “Have you uploaded the recording to my cloud?”

  She bit her lip, knowing Donny liked to hear them while they were fresh in Heather’s head. With the late night and early morning meeting, she hadn’t had the chance to fine-tune the recording to show the artists at their best. “Not yet. I’ll do it first thing after this meeting.”

  “Great.” Donny patted her on the shoulder. “You keep finding me the diamonds in this giant shit-pile of coal, and we’ll make Rocky Top the number one studio on Music Row.”

  She smiled back at him and didn’t react to his use of “we.” Privately, Donny commended Heather for what he called her star whispering ability, but publicly, he enjoyed taking all the credit for her discoveries. Aaron had always given her the proper recognition for her work, and she had the Grammy-winning, platinum-selling artists on the wall of her office to prove it. “Sure thing, Donny.”

  Mandie placed a cup to Heather’s side. “Warm milk with a hint of coffee bean.”

  “Thanks, Mandie.” She picked up the drink and took a small sip. She was ready for the slight hit of caffeine that would take the edge off her lethargy. This meeting was a huge deal for Donny and Rocky Top, and though she couldn’t fathom why Savana would want her here, Heather wanted to present her best side.

  The elevator pinged its arrival, and two stocky men in tightly fitted gray suits held both of the doors as Savana Hayes and her manager, Joe Johnson, stepped out. Savana looked stunning in an unpretentious outfit of faded blue jeans and a stars and stripes tank top, and it made Heather question the validity of the meeting requests. Stars were expected to be high maintenance, so maybe all of that was just part of a persona her manager had dreamed up.

  She swept through the corridor toward the boardroom, obviously knowing exactly where she was heading. Heather found herself admiring Savana’s poise. She looked every inch the confident and composed country star. How does she get her hair to bounce like that? It was like Heather was watching a commercial, complete with a wind machine to make the most of Savana’s long locks. She swallowed and stood, ready to greet her as Mandie opened the boardroom door.

  “Savana, I’m so glad you could make it.” Donny offered his hand.

  Heather thought she saw a slight hesitation before Savana extended her own hand and shook Donny’s.

  “Thank you
for the invitation, Donny.” She let go of his hand and looked at Heather. “And it’s a pleasure to get the opportunity to meet you, Heather King.”

  “The pleasure’s all mine. I’m a huge fan of your music.” Heather stopped herself from gushing further and telling her that Savana had been the reason she’d taken a chance and come to Nashville in the first place. Her confession would be even less flattering since her foray into the performance side of the music business had been an epic fail.

  “And I’m a huge fan of your ear.”

  Heather frowned and self-consciously pulled at her hair to make sure it was covering her ears. “Thank you?”

  Savana laughed. “Sorry, that sounded wrong. You have an impressive knack for finding new talent. You’re responsible for over a quarter of this label’s Grammy wins. It’s one of the main reasons I’m taking this meeting.”

  Heather grinned. “Wow. Thank you.” She deliberately didn’t look at Donny but expected he would be scowling beneath his smile. He wouldn’t be happy that anyone thought Heather was responsible for finding all of Rocky Top’s major talent during his tenure, let alone the undisputed Queen of Country.

  “To business, then.” Savana directed her attention to Donny. “I’m looking for a new label to support the direction I want my music to take. You think you’re that label, yes?”