All Right Now:Black Halo #3

By: Madelynne Ellis

Black Halo #3

-About the Book-

After an attempt on his life by a former friend leaves him with brain injuries, Ash Gore’s future as lead guitarist for British rockers Black Halo looks uncertain. Unless he can somehow regain the skills he’s lost before the band’s latest tour kicks off, he’ll be consigned to the rock ‘n’ roll scrap heap.

Ginny Walters never meant to fall for a rock god. Fate had other plans—which led to them burning up sheets in every hotel room across Europe. Now Ash is depending on her to make everything right. But Ginny has a secret—the sort of secret that could put their love in jeopardy and destroy everything they’ve built if it got out.

As the King of Licking and his chosen groupie embark on a rollercoaster physical and emotional journey to save Ash’s career, the past comes back to haunt them both and their love is put to the ultimate test. What happens when the person you trust most isn’t who you think they are?

Please note ~ All Right Now is the third part of Ash and Ginny’s story. In order to appreciate it fully, it is recommended that you first read All Night Long and All Fired Up.

All Right Now is part of a larger story about the rock band Black Halo.


26th June. Karlstad, Sweden

“Which way now?”

“It’s right along here.”

Ginny trotted along behind Spook, keeping pace with his long-legged stride so as not to get separated from him. The complex layout of corridors appeared to have been designed to disorientate, and as she couldn’t read Swedish, the signs didn’t help.

On hearing of Ash’s collapse, Ginny had paused only long enough to snatch up her purse and scoop her wits together, before taking a taxi to the hospital. Said intellect had since leaked out of her ears. For ten minutes she’d stood outside the emergency department just staring at the place. Then the staff had refused to let her in until Spook had vouched for her. He’d been clueing her in on events and possible diagnoses as they walked, but although she heard every word, little of it filtered through the haze of worry. Fall… guitar smashed… poison… Xane’s bananas.

Well, she could see why he’d be crazy over events. Black Halo had suffered through a rough year. But then Spook was talking about actual bananas, so she was confused again. It was as if her brain couldn’t process the various inputs anymore. Instead, it was stuck on the horrid stench of the place. The reek of bleach always made her skin crawl. It brought back vivid memories of the night six years earlier when her world had veered in a distinctly adult direction. Perhaps mistaking her shivers for cold, Spook hung his leather jacket around her shoulders.

“It’s this one.” Spook stopped abruptly, so that Ginny stumbled into him. His shirt was still damp from the show, and he smelled musky and warm in the way Ash always did when he bounced off stage. “He’s sleeping right now, Ginny, but he has been asking for you.” He waved for her to go in ahead of him.

“I didn’t do anything to hurt him, Spook. I don’t know if he explained.”

Spook curled his fingers around her shoulder. “He explained enough.”

“About Iain?”

“About everything. We can talk it through later, if you like. Right now, Ash needs you by his side. You do know that Iain’s responsible, don’t you? Dani explained when she called you?”

“He is?” Her friend had babbled a whole lot of things at once, so that she’d struggled to disentangle the various threads beyond understanding that Ash was hurt, and so were several other members of the band, and that Iain Willows their temporary drummer had somehow been involved.

“It was deliberate. But don’t worry, the police have him in custody. Go on in, it’s best we don’t linger in the doorway.”

Somehow, she found a tiny smile for him. Spook would make sure everything was all right. Looking after Ash was what he did. Thank heavens he wasn’t the one who’d been hurt or the band would have been in complete disarray. Not that the current situation looked too good. One glance in the direction of the bed was enough to confirm her worst fears. Ash lay surrounded by machines. Unease churned up a storm in her innards as she gingerly approached the bed. The figure in the bed didn’t even look like him.

Maybe it wasn’t him. Perhaps there’d been a mistake. All right, so both men had jet black hair, but Ash never combed his back like a city slicker. His constantly hung over his eyes. Also, while he favoured being pale, his skin wasn’t grey and waxy other than when his eye-liner ran.

This couldn’t be him.

There were bruises across the bridge of his nose and on his temples, plus a gash in one cheek, presumably from where he’d nose-dived off the ego-riser and landed so that his guitar smashed beneath him. That would explain the lacerations she could see on his neck, and across the top of his bared chest too. The genuine confirmation that she was indeed looking at the man she loved came in the form of the hickie she’d left upon his neck earlier that day.

“Shit!” She didn’t want to face this reality.