Page 1 of Random in Death

Prologue

Gimme Avenue A ’cause they slay.

Pleased with the rhythm in her head, Jenna Harbough rocked her hips to the beat.

They may be old, but they rock and they roll.

Probably they wouldn’t like the “old” bit, but from her sixteen-year-old perspective, anyone heading toward, like, forty or whatever hit old.

I mean, jeez, even her parents liked their music. Which was why they’d agreed to let Jenna come, with her two besties, to the club to hear them live and in freaking person.

Avenue A played twice a year at Club Rock It, and for one night in the summer Rock It locked up the alcohol and opened the club to the under-twenty-one crowd.

Anyone who knew their music history was up on how back in the long-gone day, like in the 2040s (talk about old!), Avenue A had their first real gig at Club Rock It. So they paid that back twice a year, even though they were totally rock gods EXTREME who played for sold-out crowds in stadiums and huge concert halls.

Though she’d campaigned to go on this once-a-year night for three years, she’d gotten the absolute, no-way no. Until this time!

Now she danced with Leelee and Chelsea while Avenue A slayed with “Baby, Do Me Right.”

And she danced close enough to the stage that she could see the sweat on Jake Kincade’s face. For an old guy, he was still looking frosty extreme. Maybe because he was really tall. She liked the way the lights hit the blue streaks in his black hair—and how they sort of matched his eyes.

Dr-ream-y!

But more, she loved how his fingers just freaking flew over the guitar strings.

One day hers would do that. She knew she’d improved. She practiced every day, and knew, just knew, one day she’d stand onstage and slay the crowd with her music.

She had a demo disc in her purse. Her biggest dream of the night involved finding a way to get it into Jake Kincade’s hands. She’d only put one song on it, the best she’d written, and she’d worked really hard on the demo.

Maybe it wasn’t all studio slick and professional, but you had to start somewhere. And the guys of Avenue A had been about her age when they really got going, so, maybe.

They segued into “It’s Always Now,” a classic crowd-pleaser, and more people swarmed the dance floor.

Jenna didn’t mind—the more the better. And she was so caught up in the music.

Then, just for a second, for one tiny second, Jake’s eyes met hers. He smiled; she died.

On a squeal, she grabbed Leelee’s hand.

“He looked at me!”

“What?”

Then she grabbed Chelsea’s hand as Jenna’s face flushed so deep she felt the heat in her toes. “Jake Kincade looked right at me. He smiled at me!”

“On the real?” Chelsea demanded.

“So on it! Holy shitfire!”

She bounced and bopped with her friends to the last song of the set.

“Me and a rock god locked eyes. We had a moment.”

“You’ve gotta find a way to get him your demo, Jenna. You totally smashed it,” Leelee assured her.

“Maybe I could— Ow!” When something stung her arm, she closed a hand over it. Some guy shot her a hard grin and the middle finger before he melted into the crowd.

“Asshole jabbed me!” Then forgot him and just danced.