(Side note, the following events aren't exactly what happened, but I tried to keep the facts straight so just bear with me, thanks!) It's the late 70's and punk is on the rise. So what better way to spread the word than a tour? More specifically, the Anarchy Tour. Ari Up, lead singer of the Slits, is a free spirited, care free, happy 15 year old. She honestly could care less what people think of her. She has her friends and pride by her side. Whatever could possibly ever make her feel so uncomfortable, confused and all out of whack? In the words of everyone (at least in my story): "...GODDAMMIT JOE!" And there you have it. Get ready for a little rock, a little roll, drugs, some unnecessary sexual tension, romance , lies, betrayal, some good music, and some sure as fine hell raising!

This is a Sequel to my previous work "Rebel Waltz." I would love it (if you haven't already) if you checked out Rebel Waltz before starting on this one, but you don't need to. I hope you enjoy this! When Joe realizes he cannot live without his only one, Candy, he goes after her. But The Clash are about to go on a European tour and face success, is it possible for them to stay together even when there's groupies, drugs, and fame getting in the way? Hop on the cigar smoke-filled tour bus and travel along the continent with these young punks to fight the law, rock the casbah and more importantly, stay free. Don't forget to Share, Vote and Comment because I love, love, love comments! xx thanks

Candy, an american art student, travels to London where she encounters a couple of "punks," The Clash, who make her feel she's no longer the bad apple, but part of a greater good; opening a new world of experiences. To Candy It seems life has given her the greatest gift, Joe Strummer.

John and Lori continue their story. An uphill battle against opinions of outsiders, money, and drugs. All they wanted was a happily ever after... Sequel to Pretty Vacant. To know what's going on you will want to read that first.

We met in '39, he had been a soldier in the Spanish Civil War. His past erased from his memory by a bludgeon on the head, thus stranded by my father's generosity in the guest room of our house. When he opened his eyes for what to him was the first time, it was me who stood by his side. "In the beginning were her eyes, and her eyes were pure like God. And her eyes were God." He wrote in his final poem, the one I cling to with a feeble hand. Me, God? Me? A girl intimidated by a man who didn't know his own name? Me; sneaking out of my room at night tip-toeing into his to observe him dream. Me, secretly afraid he would never wake up. He; the stranger with bloody fingertips but fair complexion. He, the one I knew nothing about. Yet he made me blush when I caught myself being distracted by his strong arms, drawn by the scratches on his abdomen, by the bulge between his legs where I shouldn't have been looking. //another romance story by yours truly, this one is quite different though. The story will be divided in two parts; "Spanish Bombs" and "Death is A Star."//

Lori was a hopeless mess. John was an angry kid. Yeah this will work.