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Back Sweet Surrender
Chapters (73)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. TABLE OF CONTENTS
  3. PRAISE FOR K. BROMBERG
  4. ALSO WRITTEN BY K. BROMBERG
  5. CHAPTER ONE
  6. CHAPTER TWO
  7. CHAPTER THREE
  8. CHAPTER FOUR
  9. CHAPTER FIVE
  10. CHAPTER SIX
  11. CHAPTER SEVEN
  12. CHAPTER EIGHT
  13. CHAPTER NINE
  14. CHAPTER TEN
  15. CHAPTER ELEVEN
  16. CHAPTER TWELVE
  17. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  18. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  19. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  20. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  21. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  22. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  23. CHAPTER NINETEEN
  24. CHAPTER TWENTY
  25. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  26. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  27. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  28. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
  29. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
  30. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
  31. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
  32. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
  33. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
  34. CHAPTER THIRTY
  35. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
  36. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
  37. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
  38. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
  39. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
  40. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
  41. CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
  42. CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
  43. CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
  44. CHAPTER FORTY
  45. CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
  46. CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
  47. CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
  48. CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
  49. CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
  50. CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
  51. CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
  52. CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
  53. CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
  54. CHAPTER FIFTY
  55. CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
  56. CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
  57. CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
  58. CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
  59. CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
  60. CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
  61. CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
  62. CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
  63. CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
  64. CHAPTER SIXTY
  65. CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
  66. CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
  67. CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
  68. CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
  69. CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
  70. CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
  71. EPILOGUE
  72. EPILOGUE TWO
  73. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Her smile is brave but she blinks away the threatening tears as she fights the regret brimming in her eyes. “I’m holding you to that.”

Let’s hope I don’t let you down.

That seems to be my MO.

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER NINE

Gizmo

I drop the drumsticks, and grab the towel I keep close by to wipe the sweat off my face and neck.

“You good with that riff?” Vince Jennings, our lead guitarist, asks the three of us.

Hawkin Play, our lead singer, glances over to him and nods. He has a pencil in between his teeth while he scribbles out the lyrics we just figured out with another one in his hand.

Our fourth and final band member, Rocket, sits to the right of me, his eyes closed and head bobbing as he replays the whole song in his head. He’s good like that. The lucky bastard can play something once and commit it to memory.

“I like it,” Hawke says. “It still needs some tweaking but it has a good feel to it. You fine with it, Giz?”

“You know me, I’m good with anything.” I take a sip from my water bottle. “Anything but that crap we put together last time. That was . . . dogshit.”

Silence permeates the studio as everyone eyes the other one, waiting for someone’s feelings to be hurt, before the four of us start laughing at the same time. “It was definite shit,” Rocket says.

“The rhythm was so bad, so off, you couldn’t even fuck to it if you wanted to,” Hawkin says as he makes a play of jerking his hips spasmodically to make the point.

“I don’t need the visual,” Vince chimes in. “But you’re right. It was fucking horrible and I’m the prick who wrote it.”

“Well, it’s about time you do something wrong because we were all getting sick of your perfection.” I roll my eyes and toss my water bottle his way.

“It’s hard to be this good,” he says and slides down the wall until his ass is on the floor and his knees are bent in front of him.

This is what it’s like when you’ve been best friends with your bandmates since your late teens. You can fuck with each other, be honest, and know it’ll all be okay in the end because we always have each other’s backs.

And that’s not an easy thing to come by or be a part of in this industry of egos and vultures.