Sound Bites. Rachel Burke K

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Sound Bites - Rachel Burke K


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      Sound Bites

      A Rock & Roll Love Story

      Rachel K. Burke

      A division of HarperCollinsPublishers

       www.harpercollins.co.uk

      Contents

       Rachel K. Burke

       Acknowledgements

       Chapter One

       Chapter Two

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       Chapter Seventeen

       Chapter Eighteen

       Chapter Nineteen

       Chapter Twenty

       Chapter Twenty One

       Chapter Twenty Two

       Chapter Twenty Three

       Chapter Twenty Four

       About HarperImpulse

       Copyright

       About the Publisher

       Rachel K. Burke

      I discovered my passion for writing at the age of ten, when my love of R.L. Stine mystery novels inspired me to write my own. Over a decade later, I read my first music-themed novel, and decided to combine my music journalism experience and rock and roll obsession into a book.

      I live in Santa Monica, California, a few blocks from the Pacific Ocean. When I’m not at the beach, I can usually be found perusing rock shows on Sunset Boulevard, shopping, at a yoga class, having drinks with friends, or sipping coffee at home and pondering my latest novel.

      For more information on Rachel and her upcoming fiction, please visit www.rachelkburke.com.

      Many thanks go out to all my family members, friends and people in my life who have followed my journey throughout the years. I am forever grateful for all your encouragement and support.

      I want to thank my childhood best friend, Liz, for being my biggest fan and supporter ever since the sixth grade, Erin for always making me laugh, Kurt for all his hard graphic design work, Katrina for letting me steal her hysterical one-liners, Jenn for publishing my first review, and Christina for taking the time to put together my kick-ass website. I also want to thank my Mom, Dad, Susan, Nana, and all of my brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins and friends who have always believed in me and inspired me. I am very lucky to have such devoted people in my life.

      Big thanks go out to all the editors, agents, publishers, copywriters and everyone else that has worked hard to help bring my work to life. You are all amazing at what you do, and your dedication and hard work is truly appreciated.

      To my New York Pitch and Shop writer’s group, you are all incredible, and it’s been a pleasure following all of your careers along the way. Thank you for answering my questions and supporting me in my endeavors.

      To all the artists, musicians and authors who have mentored and inspired me over the years, this would never have been possible without you. Keep doing what you do. You never know whose life you may change.

      And lastly, a giant thank you to the team at Harper Impulse for believing in Renee and Dylan and bringing their story to life. You made a lifelong dream come true.

       Chapter One

       Going from Catholic school to public school is like living in a fishbowl your whole life, and then being dumped into the Mississippi River. The classrooms are bigger, the hallways are wider, and everywhere you look, there are cliques upon cliques of students of all different genres.

       It was September of 1997 when I began my freshman year at Rockland High. I can still remember staring at the mass of strange faces – preppy cheerleaders who followed the jocks, stoners in leather who smelled like cigarettes, art kids in an assortment of colors – and wondering where I, Renee Evans, would fit into the equation.

       But as soon as I walked into my fifth period English class, I didn’t have to wonder for long.

       I spotted her in the back corner, scribbling something on her notebook. She was wearing black combat boots and a yellow T-shirt that said, “Save a Tree. Eat a Beaver.” I was wearing a Nirvana T-shirt and the purple Converse sneakers I’d owned since junior high. I took a seat next to her and we both discreetly eyeballed each other until she broke the ice.

       “I like your necklace,” she’d whispered to me. I was wearing a black choker that resembled a dog collar with silver studs. A token of one of my


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