Susan stared at what looked like a cross between a burned out rock star and Bigfoot. She pushed her backside against the doors, whispering a prayer. "God, please get me out of here and I swear I�ll never get near another musician as long as I live." Memories of being trapped with Redmond when she was sixteen struck like a sudden, hard slap in the face. She shoved the images away and turned, pushing her palms against the heavy doors. The solid oak wouldn�t budge. Damn! The doors were stuck. If only she had followed the stairs instead of the music. More sensual notes surrounded her. She turned around slowly. Thank God she was still hidden in the shadows, and the naked man hadn�t noticed her. Yet. He straddled a stool, his back to her, bare skin bathed in the red overhead spotlight. Long tangled black hair fell over broad shoulders. Muscular arms, buttocks and legs flexed with the hard driving rhythm he now pounded out on the guitar. She couldn�t see his face, but he sang with so much pain, she felt guilty for intruding on something so private. Runnin� and huntin� for love on the loose Blazin� new trails in hot pursuit His music pulled at her stomach, her heart, and other places she couldn�t control. He caressed and teased each word. She stiffened. Red had used his music to stir sexual fantasies and kill dreams. But this man sang from his soul, for himself. She listened. Face to face strangers playin' heart for heart Raisin� danger . . . to an art Who was he? He looked and lived like an animal, from what she could see through the red haze. Clothing and empty cans cluttered the stone floor. The cave-like room, most of it hidden in the shadows, smelled of sweat, food, and stale beer. His talent, and a vulnerability she heard beneath all that raw sensuality, intrigued her. Susan wanted a closer look, but only if the man was shackled and locked in a cage. The music suddenly stopped. Susan inhaled several more times before easing away from the doors. Another red light flicked on, followed by an angry question. "Who�s in here?" She stepped out of the shadows and faced him. When he saw her, he jumped up so fast, his guitar fell off his lap. He caught the neck with a quick hand, holding the guitar away from his body, as though he feared he might crush the delicate wood. Susan now had a full frontal view. He stood like a giant, legs braced apart, as naked as a newborn, except for ankle-high motorcycle boots. Cold feet, hot head. Hotter music. She scanned his body, broad and lean and very male. Eyes as black as his hair glowed in the spotlight, giving him the look of a hungry wolf startled by headlights. "Raven? Is that you? Raven!" His voice boomed out of the speakers. What did he call her? This was straight out of Edgar Allan Poe. He must be high on something. He kicked the microphone out of his way. The metal stand crashed into a set of floor speakers. A high-pitched squeal of feedback pierced the room. He stormed toward her. "What are you doing here?" Susan stretched her hands out to fend off his impending attack. He stopped in mid-step. "Holy Christ!" The wild man appeared stricken. He stared at her, then backed up to straddle the stool. "I thought you were�oh hell. Forget it." He sat down, set the guitar in front of him, hooked a boot heel on the lowest rung of the stool, and studied her. He looked angry, but no longer murderous. His dark gaze traveled over her slowly, stopping on her face. "Who are you?" Excerpt from RichMEDIA Contemporary Romance�, "Feel My Need". ©2001 Cavalaris & HEART LOVE & MUSIC® ��ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Hope you enjoy.:o) Thanks for looking and reading. Cavalaris & HEART LOVE & MUSIC®