The Devil's Metal (Devils #1)

And then he laughed. It was short and brief, but genuine and made the dimples stand out on his scruffy cheeks. It was the best sound I’d heard all year.

But when it comes to life or love, I choose life. I’m here right now, ready to live and love another day. I could never regret that. I’m glad you didn’t love me. You gave me my life by doing so.

Everyone has the chance to become dangerous. If the right weather patterns are created, if the right feelings are invoked...feelings of injustice. Jealousy. Feelings of being owed something they believe they have a right to have. To...collect. We all have it in us to become a danger, either to others or to ourselves. It's only a matter if the right clouds are brewing. Certain clouds will create a storm.

Have you wanted something so badly that you would have done anything to get it?” he mumbled, his muscly back still to me. “Like, the kind of want that leaves you on your knees and asking for someone, anyone, to answer your prayers?

He glanced beside him then patted at his round shoulders. “Want to come up here?” “What, on your shoulders?” He grinned and shrugged. “Yeah, why not? Everyone else is doing it.” The idea of a 5’9” girl sitting on a 6’4” guy made me want to laugh. We’d be the brontosaurus of the festival. The acid trippers would see us and freak the hell out.

It's almost like the band is cursed... and it's only going to get worse from here on out.

It's dangerous to meet your idols. You'll always be disappointed.

I wanted to be someone, someone important. I wanted to be revered, I wanted to be respected, I wanted to be loved. I wanted it all so much that I remember thinking I would do anything for it. I would give anything for it.

Music was always the one thing in my life I could count on, the drug that took me away from reality and made me feel whole.

Okay,” she drew out. “Let me rephrase that. Did you sleep with Sage yet?”

I blushed furiously.

She smacked my leg and exclaimed, “I knew it! I could smell it on you.”

“You can smell it on me?”

She grinned. “When I was hugging you, yeah. Your chest smelled like cologne and man tongue.

Robbie Oliver could call me Pooey-Poo-Poo Smelly Face if he wanted to.

Sage shifted beneath me. I put one of my hands back into his thick hair and left it there, pretending I needed to hold him. It took all my willpower not to start playing with it.

“I guess you don’t do this very often,” I told him, my voice cracking slightly.

I couldn’t see his face but I could feel him smile. “No. Usually my head’s turned the other way around.

She's just people. We all are. Just because you're in a band doesn't mean you stop having human problems. Fame, money...that doesn't fix those things. Those things will always find you.

That's where you're wrong. To really understand music, to love it for what it is, you have to be open-minded and go into everything thinking you might find a new part of yourself. It can only make your heart bigger.

There is no later. There never was. Later is something that's used up with the lazy belief that there's always a tomorrow.

Those bands, you plan your life around them. You plan vacations around concert dates. You save babysitting money for records. You live for those days when Creem magazine arrives in your dusty mailbox and you frantically flip through it for any information on your favorites. The bands, the musicians that you love, they love you back. And when they quit, when they fall apart, when they die—they ruin that future you thought they’d always be a part of.