Meet Julian MacAvoy from PRIVATE LOVE IN A PUBLIC PLACE
Name: Julian MacAvoy (Jules)
Vital Stats: 5'11", toned muscular body, sea-green eyes, and black hair
Occupation: Rock Star
Celebrity Look-a-like? Why - himself, of course!
White Lie or Absolute Honesty: Absolute honesty - but the press never believe him anyway!
Sunny Side Up or Over Easy: Sunny side up
Boardshorts or Briefs: Boardshorts - but he's an extrovert - so nothing if he can get away with it!
Best known for: His ability to hold 80,000 screaming fans in the palm of his hand and make every one of them believe they're the only person he's singing to.
In his words…
Jules said, "I’m going nowhere ‘til this is sorted. What the hell’s going on with you?"
I wriggled free and stood up, desperately trying to get some space between us, but his movements mirrored mine. We were still far too close, his proximity, the feelings, all flustering me. I burst into a fresh set of tears.
He pulled me close, hugging me while I sobbed against his chest.
I let him stroke my hair. I was tired. Far too tired. Tired of the chaos, of the bullshit, and of life on the road.
"Come on, Mags. This isn't like you." He said.
He was right. I was the trooper. The staunch no-nonsense organizer. The one who could deal with anything.
Except how I was feeling at the moment.
I sniffed, wiped my nose on my sleeve and pulled myself away from Jules so I could sit back down again. The tears felt cool and strange on my face. Crying wasn't something I often indulged in. Nor was being emotionally vulnerable.
"I'm sick of the bullshit." I looked Jules straight in the eye.
"Bullshit's part of touring. You know that."
How could I tell him I didn't like him making so much of his body available to the public? And why had that started to bother me now? "You could be a bit more discreet."
"Discreet!" He laughed at me. "This is rock ‘n’ roll, Mags. It don't understand discreet."
"Well, you should." Anger returned. Along with confusion. I was being an idiot; even I could see that.
"We're in the business of selling dreams, Mags. Don't ever forget that. You can't mix me, the man, with Julian the product."
"It doesn't have to turn you into some sort of idiot pissing on the side of the road." I felt tears prickling at my eyes again and turned my face away so he couldn't see.
He squatted in front of me, looking up into my damp eyes. He caught a single tear on his fingernail. It sat there, a tiny, perfect bubble of me on the end of his ring finger.
Looking across his raised hand, he put my tear in his mouth, his unblinking eyes daring me to protest in some way. A surge of heat ran through me.
In my peripheral vision I caught sight of Otis. I looked over to him and he turned his back on us.
I stood up. “We need to get back." My voice sounded rough. Emotional.
"We need to talk."
"There's nothing more to talk about." I hurried away from him, thankful we were on tour and surrounded by people.
He rushed after me. "Mags, I know you feel this thing between us."
"You don't know what you feel in any given moment - that's why you need me on hand twenty-four, seven. So how the hell could you know what I feel?" I sounded bitter and spiteful and I didn't like that.
"Don't you like being with me?"
"You know I love being with you. But I can't be with you."
He stopped then.
Let me get ahead of him. Let me get away from him.
I'd heard somewhere that a man eventually falls in love with a woman he's attracted to and that a woman becomes more strongly attracted to a man she loves.
I knew three things.
One, I was tired.
Two, I was only one of the many women who loved him.
Three, I was a married woman.
How long could I manage the narrowing distance between us?
Mags O'Brien lives on the alcohol-soaked, drug-enhanced concert circuit, managing out-of-control rocker Julian MacAvoy. She helps him spread his musical gospel to his adoring followers, despite the fast-spinning turnstile on his bedroom door, and the broken hearts he leaves in his wake.
Mags believes she’s immune to Julian’s magnetic personality but when controversy hits the tour, she finds herself in danger of falling at his feet, slave to his appetites and her own desire and need.
Julian refuses to be tamed, but the pressure of the ravenous crowds clamps tighter and tighter around him. His chaotic world starts to crumble when he realizes his motivation to continue touring comes from an unobtainable woman. Can he force her to make the agonizing choice between himself and her estranged husband?
An erotic and candid look at life on the road.
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Toni Kenyon lives in Auckland with her husband-to-be (and their two dogs) her son (and his cat) - the goldfish is just squatting! She's a Registered Legal Executive by day and sings in a band by night. In her spare (yeah, right) time she hangs out with her imaginary friends. Toni loves to hear from readers. Pop on over and say 'Hi' any time, she loves company.