Strung Tight (The Road To Rocktoberfest #1) - Ann Lister Page 0,93

hands together for … Chaos!” the announcer’s voice blared through the speakers.

I turned to Dallas for one last hug, and then we all ran out to take our places on the darkened stage. My heart was pounding so hard inside my chest I thought it might burst right through my ribs. The anticipation was palpable as was my anxiety, but one glance to the side of the stage where I could see Dallas’s silhouette standing there with Dagger on one side and Skully on the other brought me right back to where I needed to be. I drew in a deep breath and closed my eyes to wait for Mike to hit his intro cadence on his bass drum.

Thump, thump, thump and we were off!

We launched our set with a catchy song called “Skin Tight” that was loaded with sexual innuendoes. It would leave no doubt to who we were as a band since it was heavy on the guitar riffs and the lyrics were raunchy as hell. Perfect mix in my book. At the end of the song, the roar from the crowd was at a level I never thought I’d ever hear for our music. I was blown away that this was happening and it was real.

Eighteen minutes later, we left the stage to take a quick break before the encore. I grabbed a bottle of water from Dallas and kissed him hard, not giving one shit about who was watching. Dagger offered us a bunch of accolades that I could barely register in my elated brain, and the choir was moving closer to the edge of the curtain. Before I knew it, my guitar tech was swapping out my Fender for my Gibson, and we were running back toward center stage to another thunderous wave of cheers from the crowd.

“Okay, we’ve got a couple more songs for you,” I said into my microphone and chuckled at the excitement that erupted from the audience from that simple statement. I turned to bob my head with my band as we punched out the first hard riff of our encore set. The more I played, the more relaxed I’d become, and it felt like something I’d done every weekend. I was comfortable and confident as if being center stage was exactly what I was born to do. I bounced around the stage and briefly played face to face with each of my guys, soaking up every second and sensation I could.

We finished the song, and I tried not to think too hard because I knew what was coming next. We’d rehearsed this countless times, but I was still feeling edgy. The stage lights went out again, and I literally held my breath. I scanned the sea of swaying people all holding lighters and cellphones up above their heads, making it appear like a rolling field of twinkling stars. Beyond them, the sun was setting behind the mountains that surrounded the pavilion grounds, and the sky was awash with blazing desert colors of oranges, reds, turquoise, and topaz—it was magnificent—better than any painting I’d ever seen hanging in a museum. Dagger reminded us to take in every detail, and this was all going to stay with me forever because it stole my breath.

Movement at the side of the stage pulled my attention away from the sky, and I knew the choir was getting ready to join us. Mike slid into our final number of the night with a gentle snare roll that Potter and Dixon played off of, and then it was my turn. I leaned into my microphone and gave “Strung Tight” every emotion I had and then some. Just as we’d rehearsed, when I reached the third chorus, the choir came out to join us on the riser behind Mike. As the lights came up to fully illuminate them, so did their perfect harmonies that made my skin pebble with excitement.

We blew the roof off that pavilion with the ending of the song. The choir added exactly the kind of shock and awe we wanted to leave with this audience, and I don’t think anyone expected it to go as well as it did. The four of us met at center stage and took a bow together, then ran off behind the curtain to cheers and applause from our friends and crew that were almost as loud as the fans.

“We fucking did it! We fucking did it!” I yelled over and over while jumping up and down like a