BOOK TWO: KEEP

Zane

My palms slid against the guitar, slick with sweat, I tried to wipe them across my jeans, but it was no use. The noise was deafening. I had to remind myself why I was up there. "Saint! Saint! Saint!" Stomping ensued while I knelt down and made the sign of a cross in the air in front of me. "We want Saint! We want Saint!" With a muffled curse, I stood, then reached into my tight jeans to pull out a smashed marshmallow.

I popped it in my mouth ...