Read A Rocker's Melody (Dust and Bones) for Free Online Page A

digital market now. No one buys albums. It’s a YouTube world we’re living in.”
    “Complete with the bass solo version of All Along the Watchtower ,” Dylan mused.
    “He’s not even the worst of it, kid.”
    “That’s truly frightening,” Dylan confided.
    Craig sighed. “Make music, Dylan. Make the music we both know you’ve got inside you. Use this tour to get back whatever it is that you lost.” He held up a finger. “But if you touch my little girl, I’ll cut your balls off and burn down your career.”
    Dylan frowned. “No promises on that one, old man.”
    Craig snickered. “You’re on dangerous territory.”
    Comprehension dawned on Dylan. That conversation he’d had with Craig a few years back, the one where he’d talked about his daughter—he’d spoken about how proud he was of his little girl. Claimed she was a natural with just about any stringed instrument...a prodigy, in fact.
    Suddenly it all made sense, and he understood why Craig had been so defensive all morning. His stomach sank. Melody wasn’t just their new bassist, and Dylan’s new obsession; she was Craig’s daughter.
    So completely screwed.

3
    Her three favorite guitars were resting in the belly of the long black and gray bus. The butterflies swirling around in her stomach grew more frantic as she realized that this was actually happening, that she was embarking on her first multi-city tour as a member of her favorite band.
    She caught Rip glaring at her; the butterflies began to feel more like a tornado.
    “That’s Snake’s bunk,” he said flatly, indicating the bed she’d been about to claim.
    I wasn’t the one who made your drug addicted bass player have a public meltdown, buddy , she wanted to say. Instead, she took a deep breath and offered him a tight smile. “My bad. Didn’t realize.”
    “You can share with me,” Dylan called out from across the bus. He shot her a wink as he pulled a guitar down from a cupboard. Melody’s traitorous body tingled with anticipation at the prospect, but she immediately stamped out that thought. Dylan had the makings of a sex god—a perfectly chiseled body, a mesmerizing voice, eyes that could make any woman go weak in the knees—but if he believed she’d jump into bed with him the first chance she got, like some random groupie, he was sorely mistaken.
    “Oh man, if we’re sharing, we can take turns,” Tank added, waggling his eyebrows.
    “Super tempting,” Melody said sarcastically. “But I’m afraid you guys are just too much for ‘lil ‘ole me to handle.”
    “You’ll change your mind,” Dylan promised confidently.
    Cocky bastards. They were all self-destructive little boys, and they would not have the opportunity to draw her into their childish games—or their beds. No matter how tempting that bed might be , she added to herself, glancing at Dylan again.
    Melody heaved her backpack onto the unoccupied bunk she had decided to claim, using more force than was strictly necessary. It was the farthest empty bed from where Dylan slept, which had been the sole motivating factor in her selection. He seemed determined to continue his weirdly focused pursuit of her, and she wasn’t going to do anything to encourage that behavior. Satisfied with her choice, she turned to explore the rest of the bus, and promptly slammed into someone.
    “Watch it, Big Red.”
    A smile tugged at her lips. Jesper was the only band member who didn’t seem determined to make her life miserable in one way or another.
    “ You watch it, Mean Mr. Mustard.”
    “That’s it. You better run...” Jesper made a grab for her and Melody squealed, darting away down the long, narrow sleeping hall of the bus. His laughter followed her as she emerged from the hall and into the small living area behind the driver’s seat.
    A round, wooden table and five black chairs had been set up there for the band’s convenience. Dylan sat in one, his feet propped up on the table as he strummed his guitar. Damn