Interview with Noah Ivory

Character Interview with Rockstar Noah Ivory
By Lashell Collins

I pace around the room and try to calm my nerves as I wait for rockstar Noah Ivory to arrive. Why am I so nervous? It's not like I've never met him before, after all. I have. I mean, even more than that, I created him! He's one of my characters. It feels so weird thinking that though, because he came to me as a fully-formed person with a distinct personality and hopes for his future. He introduced himself and told me who he was. Then he told me his story. So, did I truly create him, or was he already there just waiting for me to notice?

I take a deep breath and try to calm my racing heart as I let that thought go, and wander over to the window. The truth is that it doesn't really matter that I created him. All that matters is that he exists now, and in his world he is the biggest rock guitarist on the planet. And me, being the huge music lover that I am … I am the biggest, nerdiest Jagged Ivory fan girl in the world.

I turn away from the window and look around. The room is well appointed and elegant, just a small sitting room in my hotel suite. The very same hotel where Jagged Ivory is staying on this stop of their current world tour. Noah opted to meet here as opposed to someplace public like a restaurant, and I have to confess, just between you and me, the idea of meeting the super-sexy guitar god in a hotel room is more than a little distracting. The fantasies going through my mind right now are making it extremely difficult to even remember my prepared interview questions.

I hear movement at the door to the right, and my heart takes a flying leap down into my stomach as the door suddenly opens and in he steps. My God, the man is gorgeous – tall and well-built with that light cafe-au-lait complexion. He's dressed casually in a pair of worn jeans and a six-pack-hugging plain white t-shirt that also highlights his muscular tattooed arms. He smiles and swaggers toward me, reaching out his hand.

“Ms. Collins, lovely to see you again.”

My mind freezes as he takes my hand and leans in to kiss my cheek. I stare up into those amazing blue-green eyes of his, trying desperately to remember how to speak.

“You're always so polite and respectful.” My voice sounds overly breathy to me, and I hope he doesn't notice. “But this interview is meant to be lighthearted and fun, so Lashell will be just fine."

“Your room key, Lashell.” He holds out the key card to me.

“Oh, no please hold on it.”

Noah cocks an eyebrow and looks at me with a decidedly wicked mischievous grin.

“Um, I mean … just … you know. Give it to Cory once we're done here. Then he can let himself in for the next interview.”

“Right.” He smirks as he tucks the key card into his pocket. Then he gestures to the chairs near the unlit fireplace, and we sit down facing each other.

I touch a hand to my own cheek because my face is hot. I'm blushing. Dammit! I take a deep breath, and Noah lets out a tiny chuckle. He can clearly see the effect his presence is having on me. “Okay, so I'm nervous. Don't laugh at me.”

He gives me a sparkling million-dollar smile that makes me swoon even more. “I'm the one sitting in the hot seat, Lashell. You should only be nervous if I were interviewing you. In fact, that sounds like a whole lot more fun. Let's do that instead!”

“No! Absolutely not.”

His pretty eyes twinkle at me as he laughs harder, and something about it actually works to calm my fraying nerves. He may be a drop dead gorgeous superstar, but Noah Ivory and I are like old friends who know each other well. I take a stabilizing breath and blow it out through my mouth.

“Let's get started, shall we?”

He nods in agreement, and his amused smirk tells me he's enjoying my reactions to his presence and his unexpected playfulness. He slumps back in his chair, adopting an easy confident air, as if doing an interview of this sort is second nature to him.

“So, I gave a few of our readers the opportunity to suggest a couple of questions for these interviews. I'm afraid you may find them to be more of a personal nature than questions asked by traditional music or entertainment media reporters. You see, our readers already love Jagged Ivory and the music, but what they want is to get to know you a little better. Maybe learn a few things about you that you wouldn't ordinarily share in other interviews. Are you up for that?”

“You should know by now I'm usually up for anything, Lashell.”

My cheeks heat up again, and I gape at him. He is flirting with me, and boy am I grateful for my chocolate complexion right now because I know otherwise, he'd be able to tell just how flushed I really am. I will not let him get the best of me here. I quietly clear my throat.

“So, the first thing the readers wanted me to ask is, why specifically brunettes? They know that each of the Jagged Ivory men has a distinct 'type', and that yours is curvy brunettes. They want to know why?”

Noah chuckles and rubs his chin with his long index finger as he thinks it over. “Well, like I said, I'm usually up for anything, and I would never want to exclude anyone. But if I had to choose, yeah, I guess I'd have to say I am more partial to brunettes. That's true.”

“Yes, but any particular reason why?” I press the issue because he seems to be trying to avoid it.

“Oh, you know … there was this girl once. You know how that goes.” The sly grin tells me that's all he's willing to share about the subject, but I can't just let it drop.

“Hmm. That girl? Wouldn't happen to be the lovely Mercy Holland, would it?”

He lets out an awfully big sigh and breaks eye contact. “It might.”

His cocky smile slips a little, and I get a glimpse of the sensitive musical genius hiding underneath the rockstar persona.

“You have quite the thing for your manager's daughter, don't you?”

He hesitates for a second, and I can actually see him weighing his response in his mind.

“Oh, my gosh. Noah? Are you actually blushing?”

The nervous smile isn't mine this time, and Noah lowers his head for a brief second before he looks at me again. “Mercy is um …” His sentence dangles as he repositions in the chair. “She's someone special. Yeah.”

"You're being very evasive, Noah." 

He laughs and then shakes his head. "I'm just trying to maintain a little privacy."

It's all the response I get from this normally brooding and temperamental artist, but as I watch him I can see the vulnerability that he's trying so hard to hide. It's endearing.

“Okay, next question is all mine. I've always wondered … what is it like being onstage with your guitar, holding a stadium full of people captive with your riffs and melodies? Your music. Can you describe that for our readers?”

“Oh, absolutely. That is the best feeling in the world. Holding my guitar in my hands – the feel of her at my hip, my fingers gently gliding over her fret board, stroking her strings. That's like making love to a beautiful woman.” His eyes meet mine as he continues. “It's the sexiest high, like the greatest build up and release you can possibly imagine. All the positive energy coming from the crowd is transformed into this strong, almost sexual desire. The start of each song is like foreplay, you know? The tease. The bass and the drums reverberating around you, it's like two heartbeats at play. And then things heat up, and keep building and building until the guitar solo when it finally explodes like liquid love, all over everything. And that happens over and over again, song … after song … after song. Sometimes I want to light up a cigarette when I step offstage, you know I mean?”

He stares at me, and his response leaves me breathless, quietly panting as I hang on his every word.

“Yep. I think I need a cigarette right now.” I let out a quiet breath and tug on the collar of my blouse as I try to compose myself. Noah grins at me. He knows exactly what he's doing, the cocky bastard. “Well, um … I only have one more question for you,” I say as I resist the urge to fan myself. “It's another one from the readers. When I gave them the chance to send in their questions for the band, I was actually shocked at how many of them wanted to know this.”

“Okay. This ought to be good.” He smiles, giving me his full attention.

“It's a simple question, really. Boxers or briefs?”

He looks directly into my eyes, and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and closing the distance between us. “Commando.”

He says it with an absolutely straight face, and I'm not sure if he's serious or not. But how I've managed not to melt into a puddle on the floor, I will never know. It takes me a few seconds to pull myself together, and the smug look of satisfaction on Noah's face says it all. I wonder if he plays these games with all the female interviewers he's encountered, or if he's simply wanted to torture me for the fun of it. I suspect it's the latter as I clear my throat once again.

“Well, I …” My words fail me for a second. “I mean, thank you for coming to my hotel suite and answering a few questions for our readers, Noah. I've enjoyed our conversation.”

“Not nearly as much as I have, Lashell. Please tell your readers that I love them madly.”

Well, there you have it. My exclusive interview with the one and only Noah Ivory. I hope you enjoyed getting to know the guitar god a little better. Be sure to add Jagged Hearts to your TBR List, or CLICK HERE to get your copy Now!

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