“Hard rock violin,” Carolyn murmured, a bit befuddled. She’d never heard of such a thing. She liked modern music; pop, hip-hop, alternative and some hard rock, but she’d never heard of hard rock done with a violin. This should be interesting, she thought dubiously.

“Just wait till you hear them.” Marguerite grinned.

Carolyn forced a smile and nod as Genie finished introducing them and stepped off the stage to hurry to their table.

“Oh, my God, they are so hot, Marguerite,” Genie gushed as she fell into the chair next to Carolyn’s. “You didn’t mention that they were all gorgeous.”

“I showed you the video,” Marguerite said with a laugh.

“It was very small, and didn’t do them justice at all,” Genie assured her and then glanced back to the stage. Heaving a sigh, she muttered, “If only I were twenty years younger. I don’t suppose any of them would be interested in a fling with an older woman?”

Marguerite chuckled. “Oh, Christian happens to like older women. But he generally prefers blondes.”

“That leaves me out then,” Genie said with a sigh and then elbowed Carolyn. “But it means you might have a chance.”

Carolyn nearly spat out the wine she’d just taken into her mouth. Swallowing it quickly and managing not to choke, she glanced to Marguerite to find the woman smiling at her encouragingly. Carolyn could feel the blood rushing to her face with embarrassment. She shook her head and turned quickly to the stage as Gia stepped up to the center mic.

The young woman stood there for a full minute, garnering the attention of everyone in the room, and then she opened her mouth and released a high pure note that pierced the silence. Her hand crashed down across the strings of the electric guitar she held and the band suddenly kicked to life, all movement and sound. Santo’s body vibrated as he appeared to try to beat his drums to death. Zanipolo was working his electric guitar like a cross between a lover and a submachine gun. Raffaele was pounding on his keyboards, his head bobbing to the music. Gia was alternately making love to her own electric guitar with long riffs and singing into the microphone with a clarity that Carolyn had never encountered before, and Christian . . .