White Trash Circus will be taking an extended break and won’t be playing any time in the foreseeable future. Please lodge all your complaints to my guitarist—and my ex best friend—who I found inside the girlfriend I’ve had since high school. I will pull the freaking knife from my back and continue—without either of them—when the time is right. With enough hate and anger coursing through my veins to keep me in therapy for life, I’m going to save my cash and let the music heal me. Prepare all your bleeding hearts to be tormented with the most righteous, heavy and cataclysmic tunes to ever come out of me. So there’s that to look forward to. Thank you for all the support over the years, the gigs, the love and most of all memories. Don’t trust anyone and stay metal—Vaughan.
PS. Connor, you left your guitar and rig at my house so I took the liberty of relocating it to my front lawn. I might have dropped it on the way out the door. In your own words, brother, “Sometimes stuff just happens.”
PPS. Our drummer spontaneously combusted and is no longer with us.
WhiteTrashMegaFan- Whoa! Is this real?
VaughanLover4Eva – I love you Vaughan, you were too good for her anyway. I want to have your babies.
HeavyBrad69– So rock and roll!! Can’t wait for the new stuff, it’s going to be metal AF!
Nico – Ummm, Vaughan, what about me?
LicksNStick – LOL awks
White Trash Circus – No one cares about the bass player, Nico.
“Vaughan, ready to go on?” She waltzed into my dressing room without an invitation—not that I would have turned her down—and looked around with interest.
Layered in black, her jeans and jacket were far from seductive, but it didn’t matter, my eyes traveling over her with a greed I didn’t understand or want to contain.
It was crazy, two seconds ago I had been ready to put my fist through a wall. Angry, frustrated and who knew what else. But there was something about Gillian that made me snap into focus. And in some weird way, I wanted to fucking please her. Maybe it was ’cause she didn’t want to hear my sob story. Or maybe I’d lied to Lindsey, and was desperate, just for someone different.
I coughed, my jeans getting tighter in the crotch as she gave me her attention. “Yep, all good.”
“Good.” She shifted her eyes back to the room, looking at the bottle of beer I had opened. “I expect you to be sober when you get on the stage.”
“It’s my first and last. Not an issue, I promise.”
I promise?What the hell was I saying?
She nodded, giving me a last look over before heading toward the door. “I’m glad to hear it, have a good show.” She turned to leave.
Damn it.
My skin itched as I watched her at the door, wanting to keep her around a little longer. Not in a creepy way like where I chained her to a chair and fed her frozen T.V. dinners, I hadn’t turned into a total degenerate. But so I could see if I could crack her code and solve the fucking riddle.
“I hope you’re going to stick around and watch.”
T Gephart is a USA Today and International bestselling author from Melbourne, Australia.
With an approach to life that is somewhat unconventional, she prefers to fly by the seat of her pants rather than adhere to some rigid roadmap. Her lack of “plan” has resulted in a rather interesting and eclectic resume, which reads more like the fiction she writes than an actual employment history. She’d tell you all about it, but the statute of limitations hasn’t expired yet. But all those crazy twists and turns have led her to a career she loves—writing romantic comedy.
When she isn’t filling pages with sassy and sexy characters with attitude, she’s living her own reality show in the ‘burbs of Melbourne with her American husband, two teenage children, and her fur child—Woodley.
She loves adventure, to laugh, travel, and strives to live her life to the fullest.
