Read Online Secrets of the Demon by Diana Rowland - Free Book Online

elegant. The art on the walls struck me as the sort of stuff that people murmured appreciative things over at galleries, but would never actually buy for their own home—colorful and intentionally abstract paintings that tried to be ever-so-slightly suggestive, but instead merely looked faintly sleazy.
    I carefully hid my smile. I had an art history degree—an education that I’d always considered to be mostly useless, especially considering my line of work. But I know crap art when I see it. I also noted that I’d been right about the layout of the house. There were two hallways that led off to either side of the living room, and, oddly, two stair-cases that led to hallways on the second story. I couldn’t figure out where the kitchen or bathrooms might be, unless they were hidden in one of the wings. Whoever the architect was, I wanted him drug tested.
    I could hear piano music from the upstairs hallway on the right. I’d automatically dismissed it as coming from a CD player until I heard the player pause and then redo a section. That must be Michael playing, I realized. I hadn’t heard any sort of flub or error, but I was no musician. However, even I could tell that he was phenomenally talented. I had no idea what the piece was that he was playing, but it was something classical, and it sounded complicated beyond belief.
    Lida flopped onto the couch beside the guitar and I sat on the other couch with much less flopping involved. It was definitely as uncomfortable as it looked. Ryan remained standing, doing his best to look casual and relaxed. He looked about as casual as a Buckingham Palace guard.
    “Is that Michael?” I asked, jerking my head in the direction of the music.
    A proud smile spread across Lida’s face. “Yeah, isn’t he amazing?”
    “Incredibly so,” I agreed.
    “You’d never know it from listening to our gigs, would you?” Lida said, sitting up into a less slouched position. “I mean, our stuff isn’t very challenging. But Michael makes it all seem so effortless. It was pretty cool when the deal came through from the label and they wanted the rest of the band, which meant that Michael could keep playing with me.”
    “That’s not guaranteed from the start?” Ryan asked.
    “No way,” she said, shaking her head for emphasis. “Man, there’s so much about this business that no one ever really knows. People think that you get signed with a label and you’re set for life, that you’re guaranteed to be rich, a star.” A grimace flickered across her face. “Trust me, it’s nowhere near that easy.”
    “Few things ever are,” Ryan put in with a wry smile.
    “So how does it work?” I asked, curious. I counted myself in the camp of people who thought signing with a label equaled instant stardom.
    “Well, usually bands are discovered by a manager or by a label person via clubs. Like if a manager spots a group or a singer, he’d approach and be all, ‘I think you guys have a great sound. You being managed by anybody ? I could easily get you a label meeting.’ At that point, they’d make a demo and it would get sent to the label and the label would most likely want to meet them at one of their gigs or even call them in to play acoustically at their office. It all depends on the circumstance.”
    “Is that how it worked for you?”
    She gave me a slightly rueful shrug. “Well, we had a bit of a leg up. Adam’s a friend of my uncle, and when he realized I was serious about doing this—and after we were getting decent gigs on a regular basis—my uncle called up Adam and asked him to give us a listen. And Adam had some connections with Levee 9 Records and before we knew it we had a contract.” She smiled, but there was a tightness around her mouth.
    ”But they’re a pretty decent label, right?” Ryan asked.
    “Well, Levee 9 is pretty good, though it isn’t Sony or anything of that level. It’s an indie, which has its pros and cons. They treat us pretty good and we have more