My music
- Reads 21
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- Parts 2
Ongoing<5 mins
Last published Fri, Mar 6, 2015
1st. I am not a great composer , I know , but I thought I'd give it a try
2nd. If I offend anyone I'm honestly sorry , I use a lot of words without thinking , like nigger -because me and my friends (black and white) call each other that a lot. Sorry
3rd if my music sounds satanic or unholy , even holy don't think it is ... I do not pray to satan or other gods , and I do not sings about God , even tho it could sound like it. I respect all religions
Enjoy
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#135
composer
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Cal Jackson's new life as a rockstar fails to account for one thing: the existence of the girl he loves. ***** "What are you thinking about?" she asks. "A song," I say. "A new song." I stare at the ocean as I sing the song that I wrote, something that comes from the darkest place of my heart. "Do you even know how gifted you are?" she whispers. "You're destined to be someone big, Cal." "Really?" "Yeah." ***** She's perfect in every way. Beautiful. Smart. Her bright future is right there in front of her eyes. While here I am. Ruined. No college, let alone a future. Just an image of a wannabe rockstar with tattoed arms and an old guitar. I knew that our story would be no less than that tragic Romeo and Juliet shit the moment I laid my eyes on her, but still, I can't resist her. The moment she whispers my name, "Cal," I lose all sanity. She becomes my melody, my lyrics, the song that keeps echoing in my ears. People call her Mia. I call her my Amy, her name crafted above my beating heart, tattoed on my skin. Amelia Davis is my girl. Mine. And only mine. ***** THE JACKSONS BOOK #1 © 2021 Anya Jayvyn. All Rights Reserved. (Content warning: This book has descriptive sexual content and explicit language)
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