Snippets of The Prodigal Band Trilogy: Romance

I have read few Romance novels, and I have seen few Romance movies that I have any affection for (but Romance Adventure movies like High Road to China, Jewel of the Nile, and Romancing the Stone are outstanding, IMHO). But one thing I know about the Romance genre–all Romance-themed novels or movies have this in common: sexual tension. It is not tension during the act of sex, but tension between the sexes involved with the romance relationship.

For instance: in High Road to China–one of my fave movies ever–the Bess Armstrong character and the Tom Selleck character (named O’Malley), in between hugging and kissing and bedding with each other, are constantly arguing, yelling at each other, her screaming, “O’Malley!” every few seconds or so, and O’Malley all pissed off because she demanded to fly her own plane and later crashed his plane named Dorothy in Nepal, as they headed to China to find her father, who was being screwed out of millions by his crooked business partner. In the end, of course, they decide to build a good relationship upon leaving western China where her dad is leading a rebellion against some overlord in the 1920s. All novels, Romance genre or not, that build some sexual tension, always have that tension relieved at the end, when love abounds.

And there is plenty of sexual tension in The Prodigal Band Trilogy. I have already discussed this marriage tension between the bassist Keith and his wife Jarris, in the Drama snippet.. In fact there is sexual tension between each band member and his woman throughout the three-books-in-one trilogy that get resolved at some point.

But the key “romance-sexual tension” partnership within the band and their women is between keyboard-synthist Bryan and his wife, Mo, who marry early and then things begin to go awry as they bring forth children. Prior to having kids, the relationship is as good as it could be; having children become the linchpin for what develops into a rocky relationship, as I will describe below in three snippets.

The first “sexual tension” episode comes from Chapter Four of Battle of the Band. Bry and his band Sound Unld have been temporarily banned from their UK home and are stuck living in the New York metro area. Bry and Mo and their children live in a fancy apartment in lower Manhattan. For various reasons Mo feels she must return to London every few weeks to see her psychiatrist (spoiler alert–lover) named Rimsgate because she feels Bry is not properly supporting her “needs,” spending much more time with his biker buddies (who also make up the band’s road crew) or with his synth-project business partner, Reg. Upon returning to the apartment after spending a day in a recording studio, Bry enters the place as Mo is getting ready to leave for London and her “lover.” The time frame is late 1990.


Contrasted with the austere nanny wearing dark woolen coat, matching hat hiding pinned-up gray hair, and low-heeled support shoes standing with a young child and holding an infant wrapped in somber colors, the young woman of the house herself soaked in bright red—hair, lips, earrings, bracelet and necklace of ruby, and metallic jump suit under a silver gray sable coat—moved excitedly about her Village Square townhouse making sure she had everything for her latest biweekly trip back to London.

“Five suitcases should be enough,” Mo McClellan said with the air of a street tough elevated in station. She inspected her hair in the front hallway mirror, fussing with it. “Take the kids out to the limo, Nanny. I’ll be there in a jiff.”

Just as Nanny opened the door, the limo driver appeared to take the suitcases out to the car. Nanny took Craig by the hand and held baby Sean while going out the doorway down the five steps out to the car.

Then a taxi pulled up in front of the limo. Out stepped the wild, red-haired man of the house. Bry greeted Nanny and his sons. “Going out for a bit of air, eh?”

“Hi, dad,” Craig said. “You come, too?”

“No. Too bloody tired, eh?”

Nanny said nothing.

Mo, dismayed by her husband’s entrance, swiftly turned around as she finished reapplying her winter lip gloss. Damned, Bry, you would show up just as I was about to leave.

As Bryan walked over to the bar in the adjoining living room, he greeted his wife. “Eh, luv, you a bit dressed up for a walk, eh?” He poured himself a drink.

Mo followed him, wanting a showdown. “No, Bry. I’m going back to London for a few days.”

“Is it Rimsgate time again?” He took a belt, then plopped the glass on the bar. “How two weeks fly, eh?”

“Really! Especially when I never get to see you anymore. I mean, somebody has to be there to help me with my problems.” She stood legs spread in confrontation.

Your hormones acting up again? Shit, luv, I’ve been arguing all day with Jack and Mick, and now I have to put up with your crap? “You have a problem, Mo?”

“Yes, I have a problem! Does that surprised you?” She stormed up to him at the bar. “I ran away from home so I could be with you. So what happens? I never get to be with you! Even when you’re around.”

Bry had heard all that before. “Well, I told you not to run away from home. I told you I’d be too busy to spend much time with you. You said you wanted us to be married. Well, you got pregnant, so then we had to get married.”

Mo had heard all that before, too. “Are you saying I got pregnant to hook you into marriage?”

“No! I’m glad we got married. I love you, Mo.”

“You have a funny way of showing it. I never see you.”

He shook his head. “Oh, come on, Mo. You know what the life of a professional entertainer is like.”

“I’m not complaining about that. Why do you have to spend all your free time with Reg or those damned bikers? Sure you’re here now, but you’ve spent the last two weeks with The Bikers out in California. Thank God we didn’t move to L.A. the way you wanted to. I really would never see you then!”

Time for some reefer. Bry took a joint out of his shirt pocket, lit it, and toked. “You know bloody well why I need to spend time with Reg. He can’t build the synthesizer alone. The bikers? They’re just mates I can unwind with. They help me to relax.”

“And I don’t?”

Not when you’re like this, you don’t! He drew her to himself and kissed her. “You relax me—differently. But there’s times I need to, you know, ride. It’s fun, eh? Why don’t you, you know, come riding with us sometime?”

She withdrew from him. “I’m not a biker—a moll! I don’t know how to ride, and your mates go for those one-night-stand types.”

“They like you enough, or do you consider yourself superior to them?”

“No, Bry, it’s just that I resent them taking up so much of your free time. Plus you spend all your time with them on tour as your roadies, too. You probably don’t even spend much time with the rest of the band. They probably consider you a snob.”

“I just don’t go for all that ‘image’ bullshit, or that ‘star’ trip like the others do. It’s the glamor scene I avoid, not them.” Again, he kissed and caressed her. “Look, you say you want to spend time with me, yet you’re gonna take three days to travel and see this five-hundred-pounds-an-hour celebrity shrink you don’t need to see. Doesn’t make sense.”

Pushing him away, Mo snickered. “Don’t lay a guilt trip on me, Bry. I need someone to talk to, to provide answers that you can’t, or won’t. Maybe Rimsgate can.” She turned from him coldly and went out the door into the limo.

Bry said bitterly to himself, “Well, I guess he’ll have to.”

The second snippet, in Chapter Eight, occurs in the summer of 1994 after another North American tour ended. At their southeast estate near a small lake, while entertaining Bry’s biker buddies before he and the bikers head north for a retreat, the married couple get into another argument. Mo had recently had their third son, and that was her excuse for not partaking in the biker ride. But Bry saw the excuse as Mo not wanting anything to do with his “course and unrefined” biker mates.


“How long are you biking, Bry?”

He opened the can. “Oh, three weeks or so.” He laughed and said, “By then, the others’ll be recovered enough to work on the next record.”

His cavalier attitude annoyed her. “Sure, Bry, sure. When are you going to recover?”

“Me?” He laughed again. “I never have to recover.”

“And what if your back goes out?”

“Mo, I can handle meself, eh?” He swilled his brew. “And if you’re so concerned, come with us. I need you on these rides.”

“I can’t leave Logan!”

Another silly excuse! Another one of her persecution guilt trips! “Oh, shit, Mo. We have a nanny and a nurse maid. For god’s sake! For my sake! For your sake!”

“For my sake? And how would it look for a mother of an infant to be in jail?”

“Jail? I’m not getting thrown in jail this time.”

She would bring that up! “Shit, only because Chet and Stu got carried away. We’re headed north this time, and we’re gonna spend a day or so at our lakeside retreat, eh? All the more reason for you to come. You can leave that baby for a week or two.”

That baby? His own son is ‘that baby?’ “No. I can’t leave ‘that baby’.”

Bry stood up and consumed his beer. He frowned and retorted, “Or, you won’t, eh?

The argument continues back and forth over why she refuses to go on the ride. While Mo again complains that Bry spends too much time with the bikers and refuses to see to her “needs,” he complains that the time she spends with the other band member’s women, such as shopping, could have been spent with him. The spat eventually ends with her leaving him working at his motorcycle. And then leaving him for good, so she believed.


“I may not be here when you get back.”

Bry sighed in disgust. Must be her hormones. Must be Rimsgate time.

Sure enough.

Two days later she was home again, having hatched a plot with her analyst-lover.

When Bryan returned, the two of them met with Rimsgate at his office.

Dr. Neville Rimsgate, on behalf of his client-lover, Mo McClellan, asked Bry squarely, “But why can’t you attend to at least some of her needs? At least when you are with her?”

Two against one. No matter what I say, I’ll lose. He blew off some steam. “Her needs? Is that all you’re concerned about, though you told me on the phone before I came here that both our needs must be— Harmonized, that’s how you put it, eh? So, you want me to satisfy her needs when I’m not on the road? What the hell about my needs? Our needs?” He turned to Mo across from him, holding out his hands. “You know, our needs?”

“Our? What our? We don’t see each other often enough for there to be an our! That’s why I’m saying ‘my needs’ or ‘your needs.’ There aren’t any mutual needs when you’re gone most of the year.”

He threw out his arms. “I can’t help that. It’s what I do! It’s what that band o’ mine does! Are you saying I should just bug out of a year’s worth of commitments?”

“That’s not it, Bry. It’s our relationship that’s hurting, and you being with the band is no excuse. None of the other married members of your band have this problem. They’ve resolved their problems because they wanted to. You don’t want to, Bry.”

“I’m here, ain’t I?” What the hell more does she want?

“We’re getting nowhere, though. You’re just too damned busy with Reg or those damned bikers.”

It’s no use! What I do is me, and she knew it when she got pregnant and used that to get me to marry her. Never mind that I told her that wouldn’t be necessary and that I’d support the baby. “Okay, Mo, what do you want us to do?”

“Until we can work this out, Bry, I want a separation. I mean, you’re never really with me, anyway.”

Never?

“Because the children and I are just another frustration you have no time for.”

No time?

“That way, you won’t have to feel guilty about being with Reg and the bikers all the time.”

Guilty? I mean, who’s really guilty here? “Guilty, Mo? You think I’m the guilty one here? You think I’m the one who doesn’t want to resolve this? But that ain’t what’s coming down, eh? I think the two of you— Shit, Mo. That’s all it could be. I’ve exhausted the possibilities why you won’t see reason. It’s because you two’ve been lovers. For a wee bit, eh? Ain’t that right, Mo?”

Upon hearing that Bry had figured out her motivation, she looked ugly at him and stood up angrily, leaving the office with a door slam.

He followed her.

She got into her car and left him standing outside Rimsgate’s office building seeing the look on her face—a conniving sneer mixed with merciless loathing.

Mo finally got what she wanted—Rimsgate, a man of slavish love for her whom she could control completely.

Several years pass before they manage to see each other again, during which time he desperately wants her back while she considers the reunion as a possibility if not a done deal. In the meantime, she dumped Rimsgate for fake healer and cult leader Cole Blessing and became a chief ‘disciple’ of his. But, when she and her estranged husband meet again the afternoon before a concert at a music and trade festival back home at Victoria Park, they begin to resolve their differences. This snippet is from Chapter Ten of The Prophesied Band. Mo had just met with her band-member’s-women friends who had told her about a “mission of God” their men vowed to partake in.


“Look, Mo,” Bry said to her as he moved to touch her hand, “everything the girls told you is true—though even I find it hard to believe. But we are on a mission.” He leaned against the tour bus, facing her.

Smirk. “From God.”

“Yeh, or at least from The Tooters. Crazy, eh?”

Her left shoulder nudged against the bus and she faced him as a friend. “It is.” But I’ve seen much crazier things with Cole. Should I tell you a few?

At the same time he thought. You’re not making this easy, are you? “Yeh, it is.” What else can I say? “Speaking of crazy, where’s Cole? Didn’t you say he was gonna accompany you?”

“He got sick in front of The Tooters. The others think the statue made him sick because he acts like a god. And he does act like a god sometimes. The way he cured Ger.”

“Humph.” Cocked his head. “Hmmm. A security guard came into the bus before and told us a guy who looked like Cole Blessing was standing outside the south gate. The guard told him he could come backstage, seeing as how he was Cole Blessing and he was supposed to be with you. But Cole wouldn’t come inside. Really nasty about it, too. Like he was pissed he couldn’t come in.” Stared into space as two others came out of the bus. “Sounds like he’s more than just a bit sick. Maybe The Tooters—” No, that’s too ridiculous. “But why would a statue—angels or not—be able to force Cole Blessing to stay outside unless—” Too ridiculous! Blessing’s not bloody Corion, eh?

“Unless?”

“Forget it. But if Cole is playing god like you and the others think, maybe you shouldn’t be hanging out with him, eh? Megalomaniacs have a way of being dangerous.” He moved to be with her. “Besides, babe,” he said with a playful whine, “I’ve been wanting you back for a long time now.”

“I know.” A tear fell from her eye. Then a humble smile. “I know, Bry. Maybe—”

Her heart wanted to say it, but her emotions garbled the message.

“Maybe, you will?” Beam of excitement. “Please say yes.” His heart pounded out, “I really don’t want anything else but you. Honest. I’ve never stopped—”

Her love-heart was suddenly a pitter-patter. “Loving me? You’ve never stopped loving me?”

“Never, babe. Not even when I felt you’d never come back. Not even when I found out about Rimsgate. About Blessing. Not even when that receptionist of yours said you changed your name. Now that hurt, eh? But it didn’t mean I didn’t love you.”

Now in his hairy arms, she shivered with cold chills of guilt.

From that point on, aided by the fact that Blessing is taken out of the way by his own evil spirit guide the following morning, Bry and Mo become a truly married couple again.

Want to read more sexual tension between Bry and Mo and the rest of the band members and their women? Buy the book using these links!

The Prodigal Band Trilogy © 2019 by Deborah Lagarde, Battle of the Band © 1996 by Deborah Lagarde, The Prophesied Band © 1998 by Deborah Lagarde and The Prodigal Band © 2018 by Deborah Lagarde. Permission needed to copy any materials off this page.

Snippets of The Prodigal Band Trilogy: Mystery

There is plenty of mystery within this trilogy, but it is not mystery in terms of crime (as with Sherlock Holmes), suspense, or science fiction, but spiritual mystery. However, the following snippets that follow a specific event highlighted by revelations from the spirit being for Good known as the ‘witch of the Hovels’ do incorporate crime and suspense themes. All of these snippets are found within the second book of the trilogy, The Prophesied Band.

The first snippet from Chapter Six finds the band Sound Unltd meeting with their manager Joe Phillips in spring, 1996, about the Asia leg of a tour that began the previous year and had to be rescheduled due to a crisis event that I will not issue a spoiler alert over. When that issue was settled, the guitarist-producer, Mick, then brought up the following relating to an archeological dig near his Holyhope Castle in the mountain area of eastern Wales. Mick is an occultist obsessed with the ancient High Priest of a pagan and cannibal cult, called Crynnwagg. The cult is called the Crag-Dwellers.


“…I’ve invited some archeologists up to Holyhope to dig for Crynnwagg’s bones.”

The drummer laughed. “You mean to tell us, Skinny, that your hero Crynnwagg’s bones just happen to be on your estate?”

Mick snickered. “No, Shorty, they’re not, eh? The archeologists are Druid scholars, they’re staying at Holyhope, and their digging site is four miles west of there at the foothills of—”

“You funding it, too?” Keith asked.

“Yeh, through the Druidic Foundation. Made contact with them four years ago. Only now are they done with their paperwork.”

The second snippet from Chapter Seven, partially referenced here, involves a phone conversation between Mick and pop culture magazine freelancer Jay Elliot, who is the narrator of The Prophesied Band. Elliot had heard over his car radio that an earthquake, an extreme rarity in Wales, had occurred in the area where the archeological dig was taking place. It is summer, 1998. In the conversation is mentioned that both Crynnwagg and Swami Negran had long tibias. Negran, whom had ensnared the band in his plot to win souls of fans as well as the souls of the sextet band using the red crystal amulets each of the six had worn during concerts, with the amulets being controlled by Swami, had supposedly recently died in a car crash.


“So,” I finally asked, “did the earthquake help you find the bones?”

“That they did. Or at least we’re speculating they’re his bones. Crynnwagg was known through legend to have had tibia bones much longer than they should have been.”

“Long-shanks.” Which reminded me of a long-ago English king.

“Yeh.” Snort. “And like Swami Negran, too. Little murdering bastard!”

By this time the word had gotten out that Negran was the one who did in Adam Bloodlove. Mick made sure of that. But no one could bring the Indian mystic to justice. The man supposedly had been killed by a Christian radical in a so-called car crash.

“And no one can find his red crystal,” I said.

“Joe thinks his father and his elitist cronies hid the crystal somewhere and they’re using it. I mean, all the crap with the weather. Shit, Jay, southern England’s drying up, and they’re literally drowning in Walltown. Jack and Keith have been up there about a month now. They think they’ve found some Code manuscripts in an iron vault, but they can’t open the vault until it stops raining. And who the hell ever heard of earthquakes in Wales? Torquay and them are definitely screwing around with the weather.”

I laughed, especially since he had no proof. “You sound like those militia-types we have here in the States.”

Pordengreau snorted several times. “You know I’ve never believed that shit until now. You wouldn’t believe some of the stuff Tom’s gotten out of Tina how Torquay and Effingchester are out to control the planet.”

“You’ll have to tell me about it sometime.” Of course, I still wasn’t convinced that anti-new-order stuff wasn’t anything more than sheer paranoia. “So, what’s gonna happen to the bones?”

“They’ll be sent to the Archeological Society for carbon-dating. If the bones are about nineteen-hundred-fifty-years-old, we’ll be fairly sure they’re Crynnwagg’s.”

The rest of the snippets come from Chapter Nine. The mysterious ‘witch of the hovels’ had summoned two of the band members to meet with her in the home town Victoria Park near the angelic statue called The Tooters. The meeting took place early June, 2000.


Tom, Keith, Jack, Billy Prestin—with whom Jack stayed while in town—and new arrival Bryan sat facing each other at a chessboard table under a shade tree several yards at a diagonal to the famed statue.

“Mick’s on his way,” Bry told the others. “Spoke to him on the phone at my folks’ place. And he has what he calls ‘scary’ news about Crynnwagg’s bones.”

“Scary news?” Tom said. “Right. He’ll probably tell us they’re Adam Bloodlove’s.”

“You know Mick. Loves to be occultically dramatic.”

After discussing the reason for the meeting, Mick finally shows up with news regarding Crynnwagg’s bones. The “King” referenced is Edward II, known as “Longshanks” in the movie Braveheart.


The five and Prestin didn’t have to wait much longer for Mick. When he showed up, the sun was heading down over the shadowy horizon of council houses and ship yards. A shadowy pall rose slowly up the south face of The Tooters, heightening the tall one’s mask of gloom.

After greetings, Tom asked, “So, Skinny, what’s up at the bone yard?”

Pordengreau, who once wore gaily colored robes to match is gay-ly lifestyle, now tended toward jeans and t-shirts with cartoon characters. Further, it was rumored he had started shunning other men. The horrifying fate of former lover Adam Bloodlove did a psychological number on the lanky one.

Who now began hyperventilating.

“What’s wrong, Mick?” Jack asked.

The lanky one composed himself. “Um, look, what I have to tell you scares the shit outta me. It’s too unbelievable.”

Tom asked, “Is this the reason you’ve had to wait so long to find out if the bones were Crynnwagg’s?”

Deep sigh. “They’re not Crynnwagg’s.” Another sigh along with a pounding heart. “They’re Swami Negran’s.”

As if ordained by God that this startling news should quiet all sound, the life of the park came to a standstill.

Six eye-popping faces on bodies taken aback, froze.

“The bones are not fourteen-hundred-or-so-years-old. The bones are so recent that carbon fourteen-dating can’t register them.” Mick spoke as if entranced to an audience of zombies. “I found that out several months ago. So then they began to narrow it down to dental records and the fact that both Crynnwagg and Swami had long-shanks.”

That last phrase awakened Jack. “Like that King.”

“Yeh. But having narrowed the candidates to people with long tibias, and me telling the university people that Swami had those kinda bones, they sent for Negran’s dental records, and voila! Match.”

By then everyone else had come out of his comatose state.

“But no one believed it at first. Not me or the team I sponsored. Swami was killed in a car crash, eh? Which would mean at least some of his bones would have been mutilated in the crash. News reports said the whole right side of his body was smashed. But these bones don’t show that. It’s as if he died a natural death with no bone deterioration. Like I said, no one could believe that. Negran was about middle-aged, when most people start losing bone calcium, or something. Not these bones. They’re almost perfect. But that’s not the scary part, eh?” He didn’t wait for anyone to respond to that. “The scary part is his crystal. The university people didn’t find his crystal with his bones, eh? But after all those months and then concluding the bones were Swami’s, that crystal showed up within his jawbones a day or so after I was contacted. Yesterday, in fact. I was busy in production—”

“You know,” Jack interrupted, “it’s funny that crystal showed up the very day the witch contacted me.”

“What witch?” Mick asked.

“The old lady who told us that Swami killed Adam. That witch, remember?”

“Oh yeh, that witch.”

Having dabbled in the occult most of his life, Pordengreau was unfazed by what he heard and would soon hear.

With every band member now at the meeting, ‘that witch of the Hovels’ then shows up to tell them why the red crystal associated with Crynnwagg was not found with the bones, but mysteriously showed up at Crynnwagg’s skull a day or two before the meeting. And the truth about the red crystal, which belonged to the fallen angel, Corion, whom God had cast into ‘the Abyss’ in the ‘beforetime.’ In between her paragraphs, some band members ask her questions which do not need to be referenced here.


“…Listen to what I have learned from The Tooters. Corion is the wayward son of The Creator of All Things, the One you call God. Corion is called Satan by most. Corion is the name given the Evil by a Druidic Age sect of cannibals called the Crag-Dwellers.” She looked at Mick. “You in particular have studied them.” To all she said, “None of you, however, knows the story you must know. In the year 50 AD, before the onslaught of the Romans, the Crag-Dweller High Priest Crynnwagg was killed by a group of Druid Priests called the Legion of the Twisted Oak, his blood drained and consumed by those priests in a cup of blood. You know this and wrote a song about this called ‘Crynnwagg’s Cup of Blood.’ In your other Crag-Dweller song, ‘The Rune of Seven-Crag Mountain,’ it is told how the Crag-Dwellers tied fourteen Druid children to oak trees and burned them in retribution. What you may not know is that Crynnwagg returned from the dead by the black magic of Corion’s Demons.”

 

“So Crynnwagg returned from the dead thanks to Corion’s Demons. But before he left the Abyss in which God exiled Corion, Crynnwagg stole Corion’s red crystal sight by which Corion could see his way in the black abyss. I do not know why Crynnwagg did this. Only God knows. But Crynnwagg did this thing and returned to the world using the crystal for godly power. The greatest of these powers is immortality. Crynnwagg would live forever, so he believed. That is, he would appear to die as anyone else, but then he would arise and take the form of another.

“Eventually, his Crag-Dweller sect was defeated by, first, Roman Legions, then by Christianity, various conquerors and the Normans under William the Conqueror. During this time in the late eleventh century, the bearer of the crystal was killed in battle by a young knight, who, of course, stole the crystal not knowing its powers at first. He learned, however, and used the powers to convince the king to make him a Duke. Thus the First Duke of Effingchester was created. Through succeeding generations, these Dukes became some of the kingdom’s most powerful landowners. Then came a moody madman, the Fourth Duke. He could be quite worthy, as in 1135 when he established throughout his land holdings—which of course included Walltown—new freedoms and less taxes. But he always had a dark side. He would not emancipate his serfs. He just couldn’t do it. I don’t know why. Serfdom was disappearing throughout Britain, and his serfs knew that, too. So these poor peasants, in July, 1136, tried in great vain to win their freedom. I know this because I was there. A few blocks from here in the old Hovels. The serfs were almost victorious because many freemen, called yeomen—themselves former serfs—aided their cause. So seeing himself being defeated in shame, the old Duke used the same crystal stolen by the First Duke to summon the Corion’s Demons. It took only three of them—Gold, Silver, and Bronze Demons—to burn Walltown to the ground.”

 

“To go on. When Effingchester number four summoned those Demons, he also prayed Corion to take back the crystal. The Duke threw the crystal in the air as Corion had told him, but Crynnwagg—as the Duke’s manservant—not Corion, caught the crystal instead. This did not please Corion one bit! So Corion put a curse on the Effingchesters for eternity.”

 

“…Crynnwagg survived the ages as various people of various walks of life. As a lesser duke in 1776, he formed the Society of Luminaries. In 1879, Crynnwagg, as a socialist philosopher, founded the Ring of Our Lord Lucifer, which, like the Luminaries, believed and strove for a one-world-order under Satan-Corion. Both groups used parts of the Corionic Cross. Then in 1964, Crynnwagg, as majordomo for Baron Torquay-Lambourgeau, founded the evil Novordo Club, which rules what some today call the new order.”

Finally, since it turned out the bones found near Holyhope were in fact the bones of Swami Negran, not the bones of Crynnwagg, the band leader asked this question which the ‘witch’ answered.


“But what’s this have to do with Negran?” Jack asked.

“Negran, of course, is Crynnwagg.”

To find out how Crynnwagg morphed into Negran and others throughout history, to find out how Negran really died, and to find more mystery in The Prodigal Band Trilogy, buy the book using links from the Bookstore here.

The Prodigal Band Trilogy © 2019 by Deborah Lagarde, Battle of the Band © 1996 by Deborah Lagarde, The Prophesied Band © 1998 by Deborah Lagarde and The Prodigal Band © 2018 by Deborah Lagarde. Permission needed to copy any materials off this page.

Snippets of The Prodigal Band Trilogy: Horror

I grew up immersed in the Horror genre, movies mostly, but also some comic books. When I was a pre-teen and teenager, some local TV station had aSaturday night movie series called “ChillerTheater.” Today that has morphed into the DirecTV and DishTV channel “The Chiller Channel” or whatever it’s called now. It was on this show series I saw “Godzilla,” “The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms,” “The Crawling Eye,” and various Japanese and other monster movies, various zombie/ghoul/vampire/Frankenstein-type monsters and serial murder movies many of which starred my fave actor at the time, Vincent Price. Basically, if Vincent Price was in the movie, I watched it.

In my twenties, I started reading horror genre fiction but I thought horror movies were more exciting. There was one book–I have no idea what the title was but it’s one of the few I actually finished reading–about some vampire-like rock band that recruits roadies or fans or whatever and then turns them into vampires, but one small group of fans turns against the band. Eventually, the vampire band gets “burned” if you know what I mean. But I did not buy the book because it had vampires, but because it had vampires who were rock stars!

And around this time, Ozzie Osbourne was making it huge…And. Oh yeah, AC-DC, “Highway to Hell” and all that…

One of the reasons I began writing the books that make up the trilogy was the notion, which has some merit but which can also be debunked, that rock stars are all “devil worshipers” and rock music is “the devil’s music” which quite a few Christians still believe is true. Many supposedly Christian YouTube channels try to verify this over and over and over while mentioning a few, such as the guitarist for MegaDeath–I forgot his name–are avowed believers in Christ (as is rapper DMX). My point is not to prove rockers are not devil worshipers; some clearly are (such as Marilyn Manson). My point is wanting folks to get over the notion that listening to rock music is going to turn one against Christ or for Satan. As if listening to country music and someone like Miley Cyrus is going to turn one to Christ!

But anyway…

To contrast the band called Sound Unltd’s beginning and rise to fame and fortune with their inability to handle it wisely later, and then the coming trials and tribulations they face, I thought it would be a good idea to bring in the most debauched period of their ‘supremacy’ in rock music. This is where the horror comes in. There are no monsters or vampires or zombies or mass murders, but it still has horror themes including ‘rituals of the craft’ if you know what I mean.

The following snippet which is a bit long comes from Chapter Six of Battle of the Band. The scene is a Hellside Horror House party for the touring band Sound Unltd given by the estate owners Andre’ and Cheetah, owners of a horror TV channel who use snakes and lizards as props on their show. Both are occultists as well. The night of the party is Thursday, July 12, 1993, in the fictitious city of Richmont, California, in the Bay Area. Band guitarists Jack and Mick (the occultist of the group), drummer Tom, singer Erik and bassist Keith are all mentioned, as well as various groupies, some of whom are wiccans, and Adam Bloodlove, Mick’s ‘partner’ and rock superstar of satanic bent.


Ring around the rosy, pocket full o’ posy

Ashes, ashes, all fall down

“A song about the Black Plague? Can’t you play a happier song than that, Jack?” Cheetah asked as she, the guitarist and six others finished the gruesome children’s rhyme.

Another asked, “What about your song, Jack? The Rune of Seven Crag Mountain? About the burning children?”

“Right. All in the name of religion. I can barely tolerate Mick’s cultist crap, let alone Swami Negran.” He readied his guitar to play the song. “But I love playing this piece.”

Jack began the music as a skuz tray was passed around.

They rounded up the young ones

And tied them to the trees,

And lit the grass.

The wood did burn

And then young skins.

You could feel the screaming breeze.

Cheetah broke in at the end of three verses. “I got an idea. Why don’t we play like the song says in the woods by our pond?”

“Let’s do it,” someone said.

 

Mick, Andre’ Cool, and Adam Bloodlove lounged in Cool’s dungeon-like bedroom, listening to the guitarist’s tales of the Crag-Dwellers.

Cool asked, “Where’d you learn these stories?”

“I formed the Druid Family. Mostly, for fun—and sex. But these people weren’t really Druids, eh? My cult’s based on the Order of the Crag-Dwellers, a secret society that lived at the time of the Druid priests. The Crag-Dwellers were cannibals.”

“No shit? Cannibals?”

“Yeh. They turned cannibal when the Druids tried to drive them out of their huts by the crags. The Crag-Dwellers believed that if they ate the flesh of an animal, they acquired the spirit and power of that animal. So, they applied that rule to people’s spirits as well. If they ate Druid priests, they acquire the Druid’s power.”

“But why did the Crag-Dwellers burn the children instead of eating them?”

Mick said cynically, “Because children have no power. So, they fried.”

“What else did the Crag-Dwellers do?” Bloodlove asked.

“Well, they also— Hey, wait a bit, eh? You know, I could show you outside. Andre’, you got a pond here, eh?”

“Yeah, about a half-mile behind the house.”

“Okay, I’ll show you what they did, and, on the way, I’ll tell you about it.”

Mick proceeded to tell the story of how the Crag-Dwellers gouged the eyes of their victims.

 

Tom, Princess Tina, and Lady Moira Sedgewick sat at a patio table on the veranda, deep in discussion.

Her Grace said, “Now, Tom, I read an editorial in CounterCulture that said due to inflation, consumers were being priced out of live entertainment. For instance, the outrageous cost of your concert tickets. And sixty bucks is outrageous.”

“Yeh, but in our case, sixty is worth it. And if what they said was true, we wouldn’t be perennial sell-outs. You know what the gripe is? A lot of acts would love to charge what we do, but they can’t. They don’t have the reputations for excellence and outrage like we do.”

Just then, a rush of singing, partying people from the solarium passed the trio. Cheetah called out, “Hey, Tina, you guys want to play Crag-Dwellers and Druids?”

“Oh, how super! You want to Moira? Tom?”

“Sounds ducky to me.” The two women got up.

“Oh shit,” Tom said. “When is that Skinny gonna get off this Druid crap?” He got up, disgruntled, and followed them.

 

“You mean, they took skewers and jabbed them into the eye sockets and wriggled the skewers around ‘til the eye popped out?” Bloodlove now couldn’t wait to play-act the scene at the south end of the pond.

“Yeh,” said Mick, “and then they ate the eyeballs. Raw. Whole. Like this.” Mick made believe he had an eyeball on his finger and stuck the finger into his mouth. “Delicious!”

“So where we supposed to get the eyes?” Andre’ asked nervously. “We’re supposed to kill something?”

“Shit, man, just a frog or something,” Mick answered. “Don’t worry, we won’t kill one o’ your lizards.”

“Gila monsters, not lizards!” Cool performed surrounded by the poisonous pet reptiles. “And I’m not killing anything!”

“Party pooper!” Bloodlove sneered.

“Come on, Adam,” Cool yelled in annoyance. “You’re just sucking up to that devil worshiper to get a record contract.”

“No. I get high off doing this. I thought you did, too.”

“I just make believe. I’ve never killed anything in my—”

“Shut up!” Mick whispered loudly. “I see a frog and I’m gonna catch him.”

“But not kill it, Mick. This is my pond, and—”

“I won’t do anything.” Andre’s hesitancy wearied Mick. “We’re just playing, Andre’. Who told you I was a devil worshiper?”

“Well, I thought you were, with all those altars at your place.”

“It’s just décor, eh? I collect Druidic artifacts and other witchy things. And you should talk, with all that ghoulish shit in your own house. Anyway, I’m not a devil worshiper.”

“Come on,” Bloodlove said, “let’s get on with it.” He turned to Cool. “We can’t waste any frogs, eh?”

“No.”

“Well then,” Bloodlove winked at Mick, “we’ll just have to kill you.”

He and Mick jumped Cool, sending the victim to the ground. Adam grabbed at Andre’s eyes.

“Get the hell off me!”

Bloodlove and Mick rolled off Cool, laughing with gusto.

Suddenly several bodies flailed at the three, chanting nonsense while grabbing at hair.

One of the new arrivals carried some twine and yelled, “Tie them up!”

The gang picked up the trio and shoved and marched them over to some trees. Mick, Adam, and Andre’, by now having been stripped to their ankles, were tied to an oak tree.

The curly blond among the gang got out his cigarette lighter and torched some tall grass under the trees, shrieking, “The Crag-Dwellers be avenged!” He gathered the others in a laughter-filled war-dance around the growing fire. “Burn the beastly Druids!” Tom’s face glowed orange by the budding blaze as he jabbed at Mick. “Skin them alive!”

Mick and the other two had enough and broke free of the bondage. “Okay, Shorty, put the fire out! Now!” The three stomped on the fire, and others used whatever devices they carried to take water from the pond onto the now smoky blaze.

Once the fire was out, Jack jibed at Mick. “So, you can’t take a joke, eh? What’s the matter? It’s you that believes this shit.”

Mick dusted himself off and snickered, “Did you have fun, Jack?”

The other laughed. “We need to do this again sometime.”

Tom joined in. “Yeh. Tomorrow night. Hey, Jack, you think we can do ‘im up during the show, a new skit?”

“Fuck you, Shorty!”

“Not in this lifetime.”

“Tom, I wouldn’t waste me time with this loony lad. But maybe we can grab our road manager, tie ‘im to our monolith—”

“Aaaaaarrrrrruuuuughhhhh,” came a blood-curdling scream from the pond’s north end.

“Everybody,” Bloodlove called out, “let’s see what that is. Quietly, okay? Let’s sneak up on him.”

Some carried wooden torches as they followed the satanic singer.

Another snippet that follows continues the bizarre party scene.

“God, Erik! You sounded like you enjoyed killing that poor baby frog,” Rona pouted as she squatted down to kiss her man for the evening.

The singer, still grasping the hapless amphibian, cocked his head to face the nineteen-year-old with cascading, shiny black hair. “Haven’t you heard? I eat frogs before I make love. That way, my pecker becomes more slippery and—juicy.” He ran his tongue over his sweaty lips and whispered, “Join me, luv, in my carnal feast.”

Their lashing tongues caressed each other’s mouths.

The frog squirted out of his grasp.

“Oh, no!” Rita shouted. “My frog got away!” She looked down at the writhing couple. “I thought you killed that frog, Erik! Why’d you let him get away?”

“Because,” the singer looked at her and smiled, “some things are more important than frog’s eyes for your witches’ brew, eh? Why don’t you and Lindsay go see if you can find that frog again, and Ro and I will catch you later, eh?”

Rita, disappointed, turned away. “Fine, Erik. Let’s go Lindsay. We’ll get our own frog, and we’ll make a potion and cast a spell on the two of them.” When she looked back, a naked Rona mounted a naked Erik.

Later, a torchlight parade saw the two girls coming toward them. “Witches!” Cheetah called out. “Burn those witches!”

The gang war-whooped and swooped down on the two.

“Wait! Wait!” Rita shouted. “We’re not witches. We’re hunting witches, and we got two of ‘em over there.” She pointed to where they left the lovers.

The growing throng danced down upon the passionate twosome, who got up immediately and ran furiously toward the house, still naked.

When Erik and Rona reached the veranda—the others in hot pursuit—they shut off the outside lights, then walked silently into the pool. The darkness caused three others to fall into the water.

Then— Flash went the lights. Crash! Went the music, to begin the next party round. Splash! Went half the wasted guests into the light-sparkling refreshment.

Untouched by the ‘witch-hunters,’ Erik and Rona walked arm-in-arm out of the water toward the bath house to towel themselves, their clothes still out at the pond. When they entered the small building, they found Keith and Lolita resting limp with exhaustion on the floor.

“Oh, sorry about interrupting,” Rona apologized.

Lolita covered herself with a towel.

“No need for that, girl,” Keith snickered. “They were just leaving.”

“Fancy meeting you here, bro.”

“Oh, fancy that. You still here.”

Rona sensed trouble between the two blood brothers. “Well, that’s okay. We just came in for towels and—”

“No matter, lovely wench,” Keith said. “We’ve been here long enough. Shall we go, my precious?”

He and Lolita strutted outside to a scene of rollicking hedonism exploding to the sound of gnashing metal and ghoulish cries.

Let’s party in Hell. We make it so well!

Move over, Sweet Satan for the party in Hell!

They ran, crying, “Let’s party in Hell!” as their momentum hurled them into the water.

 

There are more horror snippets I could have included but I figure this one is long enough as it encompasses most of the chapter. Want a much more serious horror scene? Buy the book using links here:

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The Prodigal Band Trilogy © 2019 by Deborah Lagarde, Battle of the Band © 1996 by Deborah Lagarde, The Prophesied Band © 1998 by Deborah Lagarde and The Prodigal Band © 2018 by Deborah Lagarde. Permission needed to copy any materials off this page.

Snippets of The Prodigal Band Trilogy: Fantasy

The Fantasy genre can be defined in many ways as it mixes in with Science Fiction or Horror-Occultic or Spiritual or even Dystopian genres. But The Prodigal Band Trilogy does not take place on some fantasy world in another galaxy or another planet or another time frame, but in the modern times mostly in the time frame of late 70s to early 2000s, mostly in the UK or the US, mostly in southeast England, NYC, LA area or the Bay Area or in the fictitious city of Walltown in northeast England where the band, Sound Unltd, is from, or the Bay Area fictitious city called Richmont. Yet that’s not the fantasy part.

Both the first chapter of Battle of the Band and the first chapter of The Prodigal Band begin in the “beforetime” realm of God in heaven with the fallen angels being cast into the Abyss, and on Earth in the 1130s in Walltown, which in the year 1136 is burning, having been cursed by an evil Duke calling forth Demons to burn the residences of rebellious serfs. Meanwhile angelic forces entering the city through a portal where a three-part angelic statue is being built, come to inhabit that statue where they sit in spirit as they put out the fire. Since the statue-figures have music horns, the statue is called The Tooters.

Another force for good–truly a fantasy character–an old woman considered a ‘witch’ by the locals, Morwenna being her name, is able to channel The Tooters for the cause of good. As she is given a song that will be passed down to future generations to save the town from evil, she suddenly by divine intervention becomes young again, and is able to mate with the man who will raise a son to pass down the song for over 800 years. What can be more fantasy than a woman who grows old and young and old and young for 800 years to assure the song is passed down to what would become a ‘prophesied’ band.

Unlike previous ‘snippet’ posts with two or three snippets from one book or all three, this post will only include one snippet, from Chapter One of The Prodigal Band.


In the Battle of the Beforetime

 

Before God created mankind, He created angels, the ‘Sons of God’ as told in the Book of Genesis. Administrators—Principalities and Powers—for His plans on Earth He created. They were given powers over the creatures of the Earth according to His Will. Except the ‘Light Bearer,’ Satan, didn’t want to serve God. He wanted to be God, and God simply wouldn’t allow it. So Satan, with the ‘fallen angels,’ fought against God and His angels, lost the battle, and was cast down as far as they could be into the Abyss.

Called Satan in many instances within the Bible, God’s chief adversary had other names, such as Lucifer, mentioned in Isaiah 14. But a tribe of cannibals conquered by the Romans in 50 AD known as the Crag-Dwellers, who lived in the Craggy Mountains of Wales, called him Corion, as referenced by a Roman historian. Corion was their god. The Druids were their enemies.

 

On Earth, 1136 A.D.; In Heaven, timelessness

 

Foreordained, it was time to send the message.

So it happened that three angels took up spirit-residence within an as-yet-to-be completed granite three-part statue of winged trumpeters called The Tooters, at the north gate of a green-grass marketplace in the midst of Wall Town.

But the grass and the marketplace and the surrounding wood-dwellings wore dancing flames in rhapsody fanned by Demon breath. For the fourth Duke of Effingchester had to burn a peasant army and their homes to the ground to preserve his power over them.

A dilapidated quarter due east of the statue, the Hovels, was spared the fire, but Corion bade the Demons hold sway there. The serfs Effingchester refused to emancipate must forever be in debt.

Within the smoky pall around her, Morwenna, called by some the Witch of the Hovels with her scars of great age and scraggly gray hair, stood before huts of twig and scrap wood. In an instant her arthritic hands glowed with supernatural cure. The Tooters had told her she would survive eight-hundred-plus years to warn the chosen minstrels of Demon destruction and guide them to the Way.

“A—rock band, you say?” She laughed a wizened laugh. “Imagine! Rocks playing music. What a wonder of God!”

Morwenna then looked up in the westward direction of the voice of The Tooters. “What be their names?”

Soft and mellow, Tooter Three answered, “The Creator has told us their name. Their name will be sound, unlimited. Their sound will be of The Creator. Yet the Demons will try their evil magic with them. It will be they will fall under Corion for a way. But Our Creator has decided. It is this sound, unlimited that will minister the youth to His Will. Only then can they and the youth be prepared.”

Still wondering over her now-youthful hands, Morwenna spoke. “Yes, but—” Her voice quivered. “How will they know?”

“You will tell them. You will give them their name.”

“So I will tell them in 800 years?”

“Yes. You will grow old, then young, then old, then young. For 800 years. You will not see death until the mission God has given you and we have imparted to you, has ended.”

“But—”

“Impossible, yes. But with the All Mighty God, Maker of Heaven and Earth, and all things seen and unseen, all things are possible.”

“So, I am doing the Will of God.”

“Yes. And we, His angels, are telling you this.”

“So it is true.”

“Yes. God does not lie.”

Tooter Three then spoke to the partners. “And at the appointed time, only they will see and hear her. Morwenna is now a spirit for Good. We have given her the power to know His chosen ones and to give them an unseen guiding hand.” The spirit turned away and laughed. “To use the parlance of those future times—they won’t even know Who hit them.”

Morwenna was now a young maiden.

Nearby, a dazed lute player, not realizing he had wandered that far eastward from his usual marketplace milieu, fell prostrate from smoke inhalation. Cough, cough. He laid his instrument on the dirty ground.

A voice called to his prone form. “Minstrel, we will now give you a song. You will play it and pass it on. It will one day save the young from evil. Your bloodline will perform it.”

He sat up instantly in vexation. His name was Mollock.

Soon Morwenna approached the musician.

“Eh, fair lass,” Mollock called to her, “that song. You hear it?”

She looked toward the statue. “I know the song you mean. You are to preserve it for your posterity.”

He sat up. “Are you the giver of the song, pretty maiden?”

“Well—” He’d never believe it if I told him it was the statue. “Yes,” she fibbed, “it was me who sang it. But you will pass it on. You will give it to your son to pass to your generations.”

Startled. “Son? Young lassie, I don’t have a son.”

So she gave him one.

And that son would turn out to be the one to pass down that song, the most important song in the entire trilogy. To find out why, you will just have to buy the book. Here are all the online bookstore links you would need.

The Prodigal Band Trilogy © 2019 by Deborah Lagarde, Battle of the Band © 1996 by Deborah Lagarde, The Prophesied Band © 1998 by Deborah Lagarde and The Prodigal Band © 2018 by Deborah Lagarde. Permission needed to copy any materials off this page.

About the Prodigal Band Trilogy–Main Characters-Part 4: the Evil

With this trilogy or series of novels themed primarily as a battle between good and evil, there must be an evil side. As I stated in a previous post, when the first novel, Battle of the Band, was being finalized, I began researching what forces might have been behind the events at Ruby Ridge in Idaho, the David Koresh cult church in Waco, Texas, and the various militia groups tied to the Oklahoma City bombing, the last two events of which happened under President Bill Clinton, as well as former President George HW Bush, who was the first world leader I ever heard mention ‘new world order,’ and was president during Ruby Ridge. Did Bush’s ‘new world order’ speech cause various militia groups to be formed as a response to increasing globalization toward a ‘one-world-government’? Such a scenario is prophesied in the Book of Revelation–that an ‘anti-Christ’ would unite the world under a false peace and then turn the world on its head in an orgy of death and destruction to all whom opposed this one-world-government run by evil. For it is research into Bible prophecy that caused me to consider this battle between good and evil as the theme for my books.

There are several ‘one-world-government’ or globalist organizations that, in my research, became well-known to me in the 1990s–the Council on Foreign Relations, the Trilateral Commission, and the Bilderbergers, and others. They all seem to work together and all seem to contain world leaders, politically, economically, militarily, and even culturally. There were or are even entertainment celebrities that have been involved in these groups, most notably Angelina Jolie, a CFR member. A rock star, U-2’s frontman, Bono, is also notable to have been seen around oligarchs like Bill Gates and even the Pope.

It is not that world unity or world peace is a bad thing. But what makes a one-world-government or ‘new world order’ a bad thing is that it will ultimately be led by evil forces, headlined by the Dragon (Satan, the anti-Christ), the Beast (a one-world-system designed to eradicate belief in Christ and destroy individual freedom and liberty in favor of collectivism), and the False Prophet (a religious or spiritual leader who will cause even believers in Christ to ‘fall away’ and buy into Satan as ‘the false messiah’). And what better way to lead especially young people to evil than by using popular culture icons–such as rock stars–to carry out this agenda?

And not just rock stars–these days, rap and hip-hop almost seem to have taken over pop culture from rock music, which has ruled pop culture since the days of the Beatles. Beginning in the 2010s, gangsta rap and hip-hop appear to be much more prominent, as well as pop icons like Beyoncé and Jay-Z and Kanye West. But, rap, hip-hop and the three icons I mentioned are all black. I am white, I do not listen to rap and hip-hop and Beyoncé and them, and I began my book timelines in mainly the 1980s into the 1990s–therefore, it would make no sense to write novels about black rappers or hip-hoppers or folks like Beyoncé. Further, in Britain and Europe anyway, rock music is still prominent, and in Asia, is becoming far more prominent. Some of rock music’s most prominent acts these days are from Japan and Korea.

However, the main reason my main characters are rock musicians in a Beatles-like super band is that so many people who follow popular culture today, and have followed it for years, truly believe rock music is a huge reason why evil has taken over world events. You Tube video after You Tube video purports to ‘prove’ that rock and roll is ‘the devil’s music’ and that rock stars are all ‘devil worshipers’ and, therefore, have no chance of salvation through repentance and taking Jesus Christ as Savior. This mindset, in my opinion, is full of fallacy. As I state in ‘The Prodigal Band’ toward the end of the book, some of Christ’s most important apostles were either wealthy ship-fleet owners or sons of such (such as Peter, owner of a fishing fleet, and James and John, sons of fleet owner Zebedee), or wealthy or prominent community leaders or officials (such as Matthew, a tax collector; Zacchaeus, chief tax collector and wealthy man; Jairus, temple leader; the Centurion, a Roman, and Nicodemus, a Pharisee). Then, you have folks like Mary Magdalene, a prostitute and a woman possessed by demons, possibly even a devil worshiper. The fallacy that members of the elites, or members of morally corrupt groupings, or both–such as wealthy, ‘devil worshiping’ rock stars–can never be saved because they carry out Satan’s agenda to morally corrupt the young for fame and fortune, is indeed, a fallacy.

Very likely there are few rock stars that have accepted Christ as Savior. Supposedly a guitarist for the death metal band Mega Death–I forget his name but he is mentioned in these videos– has openly avowed belief on Christ. So has rapper DMX. These two are likely two of the more prominent music celebrities that have. Some videos claim others have claimed that as well, but are faking it. Folks, it is difficult in a popular culture ruled by the ‘almighty dollar’ for a star celebrity to give all that fame and fortune up to truly accept the Way of Christ. But it is possible–yet one must give up the debauched lifestyle that one had led previously, and that is not easy.

So that, while it is unlikely that a star celebrity would give all that up to serve Christ, it is still a possibility, and to deny that such a thing could happen, to me is a fallacy, and a false belief that needs to be repented. To believe such a thing, in my opinion, is evil! For anybody can accept Jesus as Savior, and didn’t Jesus come to save the sinner?

As one of my characters mentioned earlier, Billy Preston, former band manager, says toward the end of ‘The Prophesied Band,’ to his former charges–“It’s not how you start, but how you finish.”

I will discuss my ‘evil’ characters and groups in the next post.

About the Prodigal Band Trilogy–Main Characters-Part 3: Support Characters and Women

While not quite as important to the novels as the six band members of Sound Unltd, all big-time rock bands or rappers or pop singers or whatever have ‘administrative staff’–managers, road managers, roadies, producers, promoters, accountants, lawyers, consultants, and what not. A few of these types of support staff personnel within the three books are important characters that appear in all three books. And they are–

Manager Joe Phillips, son of a banker-oligarch who heads the ‘evil side’ (I will get into my ‘evil’ characters in the next post), and has the pony-tailed ‘Laurence Olivier’ look, with typical upper-class London accent. While he is descended from an evil family, he is opposed to this evil. But his family influence definitely aids the band into reaching huge success.

Former manager and mentor Billy Preston is the man who helped put the band together in the early 1980s and also adopted two of the band members, Jack and Tom, who came from poverty-stricken and abusive or neglectful families. Preston is mostly bald and rather plump, whereas Phillips is thin. Preston appears in all three books, primarily in The Prophesied Band and The Prodigal Band.

Road manager Billy Hallslip is a prominent character in The Prodigal Band, is rather short, porcine, has a Cockney accent, dresses weird and is actually the manager until Phillips takes over.

Chet and Stu, head roadies, are Hell’s Angels bikers, large and brutish, with north London accents and tend to get into bar fights. Bry is their boss and he has to bail them out at times. Some roadies are full-time, but many are part-time or even fan-temporaries.

Bobby is one of the ‘fan-temp’ roadies, who not only ‘baby-sits’ some of the band on road trips, but also helps the band later while they are on their ‘righteous journey.’ Bobby is a teen, and is also into the occult before he goes to jail for robbery and is set straight by a Christian convict.

Pearson, Rogers, and Rudi are important ‘personal assistant-butler’ types who help some of the band members get over drug or alcohol addiction, and other supports.

There are also many rival and friendly rockers, groupies, ‘lovers’ of various sorts, old friends and even family members, including children, that appear at varying degrees in all three books.

The Women

There are four primary female characters that appear in all three novels, to varying degrees. All become successful super models–matching the stereotypical meme that rock stars date super models, if not actresses. And all create their own business models–cosmetics, clothing lines, jewelry lines, body boutiques and the like–to become as successful as their men.

Ger, which is pronounced ‘Jer,’ is Erik’s ‘something,’ his ‘queen’ so to speak, originally from central London from a middle-class background, is medium height as he is, with ‘bedroom eyes’ and ‘sultry-sexy’ look about her, with page-boy brown medium-length hair. Of the four women, she is the most prominent. Her original name was ‘Geri’ but I decided to shorten it.

Laurie is Jack’s woman, but he doesn’t always treat her as well as he should, suspecting her of infidelity and having a lack of trust, which later backfires on him. She is gorgeous, long haired-blonde, tall, skinny and sexy, with a toughie voice and lurid smile. She is the first super-model of the four. As a teen, she is neglected by her father, and she lost her mother at a young age.

Jarris is Keith’s girl and marriage partner, abused by her own father which forces her to become very tough and thick-skinned, with flowing red hair and high-pitched voice, and very skinny even before she started modeling and later developed several profitable businesses. She and Laurie are often antagonists, but friends the same.

Mo is Bryan’s wife, though their marriage is rocky despite having three boys. While Bryan’s folks are confirmed atheists, Mo’s father is an Anglican vicar! Only her father calls her by her real name, Maureen. She is red haired, medium length, large boned, but thin enough to model. She is manipulative when it comes to her husband, with consequences for both.

Other women-

There are several groupies mentioned, but one in particular stands out–Princess Tina of the fictitious principality called Leandro, set inside the Italian peninsula. She is Tom’s ‘only love’ and due to his ‘low birth’ he must meet with her in secret. He has a very good reason for wanting to associate with her and her kind, aristocrats and other wealthy folks. Another one that becomes important and is in The Prodigal Band is Julie, a classmate of Mick’s in Music School and later a lover. She plays first chair violin in the city orchestra.

And finally there is Morwenna, but she is as much spiritual in nature as human, and will be discussed in a future post.

About The Prodigal Band Trilogy: The Theme-Good Triumphs over Evil

I began writing a book that would eventually work its way into three books that make up the Prodigal Band Trilogy–Battle of the Band, The Prophesied Band, and The Prodigal Band–back in the late 1960s in diary form as the characters morphed from just a group of guys in a gang or a clique, with or without girlfriends, living on Long Island-then-New York City, to rock musicians with or without girlfriends, living in England. Why the morph? Because of my own interest in rock music as well as actually having participated in a local band for a few months, and having gone to England in 1970, as well as the notion I had the rock bands from England were more worthy overall than American ones (and Brit bands were my fave bands anyway.) These topics have been discussed in previous posts here and on my blog.

The names and looks of the characters were created in the mid-60s with other characters being created in the mid-80s, which was when I started getting serious about the books, which was still just one book novel. But instead of a diary to write stuff that would later make up the book(s), I just wrote on notepad paper with pen.

In the meantime, I had a teaching job–more than one–and children, which of course took precedence over novel writing. Then came the use of an old 48K Atari computer that I typed ten chapters on, and, really, the whole thing was random…this character did this and that character did that and it was as if it was just a satire on the lives and loves of rock musician celebrities. It was funny, but meaningless in a way. At that point in the early 90s what I was typing onto 4.5 inch floppy discs was just a matter of getting these characters out of my head onto printer paper.

I do not remember the year–1992? 1993?–that I went outside one night and the spirit of the theme took over my head, “telling me” to remake the book(s) into a fight between the forces of good and the forces of evil. One problem–if this was going to be about a rock band, Brit or not, then I had to get with ‘the program’ so to speak because by the early 90s I had lost touch with rock music…the last I remembered was punk and new wave of the early 80s. Living in a rural remote area of far west Texas–where country music reigns supreme and rock music is considered by the hardcore fundamentalist Christians out here as some kind of devil worship (!)–I had no idea how rock music was evolving into what in the 90s was called ‘grunge’ or ‘rock-rap’ or ‘death metal’ or ‘emo’ or whatever. Until 1994, when I got a teaching job in a gang-ridden high school in El Paso. The job sucked, but the themes rustling around in the pop culture world of the high school didn’t. The majority of my students were Hispanic and at the time a female singer from south Texas, Hispanic–I don’t remember her name but she was huge among my students–was the rage, as was rap, especially among the few black students I had. But I did have some white kids as well, mostly children of Fort Bliss parents–these kids were into, primarily, Nirvana with Kurt Cobain–a major influence on my characterizations–and grunge groups like Nine Inch Nails and Green Day. All American groups–what happened to the Brits? Well, it turned out, I discovered, that the Brit bands from the latter 80s were still around.

And that, my friends, is why my fictional band, Sound Unltd, stemmed from the 1980s. Originally, they were supposed to be late 60s-70s group, but rock music had changed so much since then that I did not think it would be wise to make them a 60s-70s group.

Then, when I really began to get really serious after resigning the El Paso teaching job and moving back to the rural remote in 1995, I had a decision to make–just write a satirical book making fun of rock stars and celebrities with all the fun of sex scenes, orgies, drug use, and sex-drug-rock-n’-roll themes, or write a book or books exposing the fallacy so many who lived in my area believed to be true–that rock stars are all devil worshipers, and rock music was the ‘devil’s music.’ And more.

Around the same time, what with events like Ruby Ridge, Waco, and the Oklahoma City bombing–all around the time of a series of Satanic holidays beginning April 19 and ending with Beltane, Walpurgis Night, and May 1–and the so-called “Patriot Movement” against the so-called ‘New World Order’ (spear-headed by both Presidents George HW Bush with his 1989 ‘New World Order’ speech and Bill Clinton’s screeds about globalism throughout the1990s)–I felt it might be another good idea to incorporate an ‘Illuminati-CFR-Bilderberg-type’ organization into the mix, representing the ‘evil’ side…I mean, the symbolism they use–the ‘All-Seeing-Eye’ on the dollar bill and all atop a pyramid with the Latin phrase within-“ANNUIT COEPTIS NOVUS ORDO SECLORUM”–which means, “Announcing the Birth of the New World Order” (or some say, “New Order of the Ages.”). And, having read Biblical prophecy and growing more interested in the possibility that the so-called “end times” were getting closer to fruition, I figured this whole notion of “one world government” was not just some conspiracy theory, but getting closer–and who would lead this one world government? Those who clearly sought power and likely had the money to buy power–bankers and their minions in government and also the media and entertainment industries–and would willingly side with ‘the anti-Christ’ at the end.

Just a note here: the Biblical Book of Revelation, on which so much ‘end times prophecy’ is based, mentions three parts of the so-called “Beast System” which has to exist for all this prophecy to occur: the Dragon (Satan, or the Anti-Christ, or some person Satan/the anti-Christ inhabits), the Beast (which I suppose is a system that supports Satan) and the False Prophet (and there are all sorts of theories as to who or what the False Prophet is!). Thus, it is this notion of an evil system that provides the novel’s notion of ‘bad guys.’ And, according to prophecy, after the anti-Christ comes and sits in the temple in Jerusalem, the true Messiah, Christ–accompanied by a huge number of good angels–returns in the ‘second coming’ to overthrow the evil. Prior to this happening, all humanity must make a choice–side with evil or side with good.

And that, folks, is the overarching theme of my books–my fictitious rock band of world-wide renown must make that same decision before it is too late. The Prodigal Band Trilogy is their journey to that decision, and what they do with it.