Kiss Across Time (Kiss Across Time Series) Read Free Page A

simplification and the need to explain all the steps in between that would be necessary, then clamped her teeth together.   Even if she had heard right, there was no guarantee that it would do anything to help her career.  
    One step at a time.  
    The Hispanic guy was struggling to sit up.   “Yo, death metal inspire you that much, bonita ?”
    “Can I hear the song again?” she asked diffidently.   “Perhaps…not as loud?”
    “It ain’t worth playing if it ain’t loud,” the girl murmured sleepily into her boyfriend’s shoulder.   “Right, Graham?”
    The boyfriend nodded, his eyes closed.
    “I’m not used to it,” Taylor reminded them.   “It just hurts my ears and I can’t hear details.”
    The man who had opened the door was already standing in front of a very expensive-looking media center.   He grinned at her as he turned the volume control dial down with a big twist, then hit “play,” then “back.”
    Immediately, the same song emerged from the slim speakers placed around the room, but at considerably reduced decibels.   Taylor listened to it, absorbing the lyrics, as the man handed her the CD cover and pointed to the song listed on the back, over the top of a photo of the band playing at a live concert, in front of thousands of screaming fans in a mosh pit.
    “ 8.   Kiss Across Time,” she read.   Well, that fit with the lyrics and Domhnall words.   Domhnall lived through years of threat from enemies, and the invasion of his country and the loss of his culture.   His stories and epic poems were all full of death, glory, love, battles, dying and more….or would be, if she had ever been able to catch more than a glimpse of him from the corner of her eye, in research terms.  
    “So?” the man asked.
    “They’re the right words,” she confirmed, lifting her voice up to carry over the sound of the music.   She raised the CD.   “Who wrote these songs?   It just says ‘Gallagher’ on the cover.”
    The man turned the player off.
    “Andy knows Nocturnal Rain better’n us,” Graham said, from his recline in the bean bag.
    Taylor realized he was referring to the man who had let her in the door and she turned to him.   “Who is Gallagher?” she asked.
    Andy pointed to the CD.   “Lead singer and rhythm guitar for Nocturnal Rain.   Brody Gallagher.”
    “Then that’s who I need to talk to,” she said.
    All four of them laughed, clutching their bellies and chests and mouths, their expressions alert for the first time since she had stepped into the room.  
    “I know they’re probably aloof,” she began.   “Being a successful band.   They’re probably surrounded by security during concerts.   But all I have to do is explain what I’m looking for.   I’m not a fan.   I’m not a groupie.   They’ll be reasonable, I’m sure.”
    Graham sat up.   “You think they haven’t heard every scam in the world before now? They can recognize every bullshit fantasy story coming at them and kick a groupie to the curb before they get within sniffin’ distance of the band.”   He jerked his chin at Andy.    “Tell her what she’s dealin’ with.”
    Andy shrugged.   “Nocturnal Rain are kinda famous,” he said apologetically.   “They get mobbed a lot, so they’re pretty tight.   Especially Gallagher.”
    Frustration curled through her.   “This is ridiculous,” she snapped.   “I’m not a fan!”
    “ Benita , you are more out of it than me if you think you gonna meet the great Nocturnal Rain just because you wanna,” the guy on the sofa told her softly.
    “Although,” Andy said, “They’re playing in San Bernardino tomorrow night.”
    Taylor turned to him.   “Please tell me you have tickets?” she begged, excitement flaring through her.
    Andy grinned.   “Hey, lady, there’s a reason I’m at home in the middle of the day, you know.   I can’t afford concert tickets.”
    “Scalper tickets,” Graham said.   “They’ll be out in