PREVIEW

... arth in Dawnridge, the familiar warm venue where their first tour had sparked, its wooden walls glowing under soft amber lights and heavy with the scent of polished oak and mulled cider. The crowd's roar pulsed through a heavy velvet curtain, a hearth's fire ready to blaze anew. His guitar hung from the leather strap, its stars catching the light's glow, a tether to his mom's pride. Starhollow's blaze still glowed—Shatterpoint at seventy-eight thousand listens, Flicker nearing sixty-seven thousa ...

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