Fighting Faith

Fighting Faith, by Brandie Buckwine

Eric’s band is on the verge of making the big time and life is good. But, when he’s forced to work with Faith, a sexy but hateful videographer, life for the foreseeable future might be a little rocky.

The tension between Eric and Faith is nearly tangible. Their troublesome friction abruptly becomes a lust-hate situation, fraught with vicious barbs and spite, but an explosive sexual chemistry that could burn them both, leaving nothing but a pile of ash in its wake. But Cupid has a wicked sense of humor and the two of them will find that the person you hate the most can sometimes rock your world the hardest.

Find Fighting Faith online at:

Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Smashwords

You can now also purchase Fighting Faith in paperback exclusively on this site.

5 Stars on Amazon – “I loved this book and didn’t want to put it down. I loved the antagonism between Faith and Eric. Poor Eric didn’t seem to have a mute button. Faith wasn’t afraid to throw it right back at him and I love that about her character. And I wanted to be Faith in the book in every way. I think I needed to be hosed off a couple of times but it had the perfect amount of steam. I am one of those crazy people that likes a happily ever after and I felt like were just getting started with their romance. I would love to see where it went and would love a sequel. Just saying…” – Into the Night Reviews

6×9 126 printed pages

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What people are saying about Fighting Faith:

Five Stars and a three-flame, orgasmic rating- Just Erotic Romance Reviews (L.T Blue reviewer)

“…The sexual chemistry was instant from the first glance across the stage and during the venom filled words that were constantly spewed between them. The sex is so darn hot…you feel the flames instantly. The dominance that comes from Eric is not expected but an added pleasure to the already explosive sexual acts between Eric and Faith. There are plenty of secondary characters in the story I would love to see more from. Fighting Faith is an awesome story, and I was sorry to see it finish.”

Read the review

Five Stars – Ivan Torres

Brandie is a brilliant erotica author and it shows in all her glory with the amazing execution of Fighting Faith. This story has it all from an immersing plot and believable characters to the ‘take no prisoners’ depictions of sex. My favorite character is Van and his line “long enough that you should charge me”. After you’re done with this story, that is exactly how you will feel; you will feel orgasmic with a cigarrette between your lips and asking ‘how much do I owe you for the wonderful time?’

Five Stars – Summer Ellis

Crazy good! Makes your jaw drop and your hoo-ha sing (which is never bad, right???)
Characters keep you on your toes without making you want to bang your head against a wall.
If you haven’t already, READ THIS BOOK! 🙂

Five Stars – Sheryl  

WOW!! All i can say is wow! What an awesome short story from Ms Buckwine! I’m not a fan of short stories, but this one had great characterisation and REALLY HOT sex scenes! A really sweet story, especially for those love their stories with bad boy musicians 🙂 Looking forward to more!


Chapter One


It was like being high. The band fed on the energy from the audience, and tonight, the audience was explosive. It was as if they knew this performance was the beginning of something big. From the Soundgarden cover, Blow Up the Outside World, to his own, Losing Myself to You, the crowd couldn’t get enough Utopian Society. Neither could Eric. He tore up the stage, his lead guitar and vocals at their best. There was no hurry to sift through the rush of women that waited to pounce on him after the show, guaranteeing him a night of hot sex— always a bonus of playing live. No. If he could, he would play all night tonight, just to keep the feeling alive.

At a table near the stage, Sarah, Jose’s girlfriend —their biggest fan— sang along and blew kisses at the drummer. Eric had to laugh. The two were like teenagers, inseparable. Jose ignored Eric’s warning, making it too obvious he had a girlfriend could hurt the band, especially when Jose attracted more women than the rest of them. Even Tim and Daniel, the plainer of the foursome, had more women chasing them than they could handle. If the music industry rumors were true, the number of women would skyrocket once they released a real CD and began to tour. No more local gigs after tonight. The next time they came to Rockabilly Hole, it would be to party and dance with the rest of the patrons.

Eric glanced toward Sarah’s table again. A woman sat with her, a gorgeous woman. The woman looked to the stage and met his eye. Gorgeous was an understatement; she was a Goddess. She smiled and Eric missed a beat and forgot the lyrics to Default’s, Deny. He looked away, determined to keep his groove and make this his best show ever. If he could impress the hell out of Sarah’s friend, it was a bonus.

Seven songs later, they thanked the audience and made their way offstage, as the crowd screamed for more. In an attempt to hide his eagerness, Eric did not follow the guys to the table; instead, he headed to the bar. Women swarmed him. He glanced to Sarah’s friend to make sure she saw the women clamoring to get his attention, hoping to take him home.

To his fan’s dismay, he finished his drink, pecked a few of them on the cheek, and headed to join his friends. He pulled up a chair and sat. Sarah interrupted Daniel’s story about the black eye he received at the hands of an over-zealous groupie, to introduce her friend.

“Eric, this is Faith, the one I’ve been telling you about. Faith ran with the same crowd Jose and I did back in high school.”

Faith smiled and extended her hand. His brain turned to mush as he grasped it within his own, but he kept it together, giving her a cool nod.

“She’s a videographer and she’s interested in doing the documentary of the band’s studio recordings,” Sarah said.

The record label suggested they document their sessions as a promotional tool, and right away, Sarah and Jose offered their friend’s services. Paying for it was the issue. They brought in a decent living playing to larger crowds than in years past, but the kind of production they wanted would cost some serious bucks.

“Faith will work with us on the price, I’m sure of it,” Sarah told them when she first mentioned the idea. Us? Since when was she part of the band? Still, with the prospect of someone who would work cheap, Eric overlooked Sarah’s assumption.

“How long have you been in business, Faith?” he asked.

“I’ve been out on my own for about three years. Before that, I worked for Icon Productions.”

Up close, she was even more beautiful, and she had the cutest dimples. “Judging from what you just saw, do you think you could work with us?” Eric asked.

“I do, I love your energy, but I have to ask, do you have any material with any original rhythm patterns for your album?” The blood drained from Eric’s face and his gut seized. “I mean, if you really hope to make an impact as an up-and-coming band, you can’t just copy what’s already out there. After a while, everybody starts to sound the same and no one lasts more than two releases.”

The table’s other occupants shifted nervously, all eyes on Eric. The blood, which fled moments before, raced back, making his head pound and his pulse race. “I write all our songs,” he said through his teeth. “It’s all original.”

Faith took a drink from her beer, unaware of how close she was to being picked up and thrown out of the club. “I’m sure you did write them, and they’re good, but every riff and pattern is taken from another song. Eddie Van Halen says , eventually, you have to put your own mark—”

“I know what Eddie says,” he slammed his drink down on the table, now seeing the woman across from him for the bitch she really was.

“Okay, you don’t have to get so mad. I was just making an observation.”

“Leave the song writing to me, and you can go make your little videos somewhere else.” He stood, “Yeah, that’s right, fuck you.” He stormed away, tossing “bitch,” over his shoulder, satisfied he made his point. Who the hell did she think she was, telling him how to write music? What kind of production princess went around quoting Eddie Van Halen?

Eric downed several drinks at the bar, reevaluating his plans for the night, until he saw two men approach Faith and his friends. Both men fawned over the trollop, kissing her cheeks and rubbing her shoulders. She stood, took one on each arm, and the three exited the club together. Slut! How didn’t he guess that about her? Usually a much better judge of character, he disappointed himself.

Last call and two drinks in his hands, he returned to the table. They all stared at him, but no one spoke.


Sarah shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. “I can’t believe you were such a dick to Faith. You do know it will be impossible to find anyone else who’s decent for the job, don’t you?”

“Yeah, you really blew it, man,” Tim nodded.

“I’m sure we can find someone else. I don’t want to work with that cunt.”

“Eric!” Sarah squealed.

“I’m sorry, but that woman is the devil in disguise.”

“She happens to be a very close friend, and she’s one of the nicest people I know. It’s not her fault you can’t take a little constructive criticism.”

“Constructive criticism? Is that what you think that was? She doesn’t know shit! People love our songs.”

“Love them or not, you’re going to have to suck it up and work with her,” Daniel said. “I’ve checked around, and anyone else will be so far beyond our budget, it just won’t happen.”

Jose nodded.

“You too, Jose? Am I the only one who can see this is a bad idea?”

“Sorry, Bro. I’ve seen her work, and she’s an artist. Even if there is someone else out there as cheap, I bet she’s ten times better.”

Outnumbered, Eric conceded. It was only for a couple of weeks. He could survive it, but he determined to make her life hell until it was over.




Bundling the two tripods under her arm, Faith swung her camera bag over her shoulder. She was late, and she knew Eric would be an asshole about it. She lost track of time going over Mark and Patrick’s civil union ceremony. They made such a sweet couple, and she owed them for rescuing her from Eric and his buddies the other night after their show. Tripping across the parking lot to the studio, she promised herself she’d finish their video that night and drop it by their house.

Sure enough, as soon as she walked into the studio, Eric started in.

“It’s about time. You’re supposed to run on our schedule, not the other way around.” She wanted to slap the sneer off his face.

“Why? Did you have a quality moment of talent, and I missed it?” It was all she could do not to burst out laughing at the look on his face. So easily ruffled. This is going to be fun. The man did have talent, not that she’d ever tell him that, but there was a barrier between his current abilities and greatness. He was so close, though. That was the only reason she accepted the job: she wanted to be around and involved when he finally jumped the hurdle and found his gift. Well, that and because Jose was an old friend. She’d do anything for him or Sarah.

There was also the fact she felt like a bitch in heat whenever Eric was near. The first time he smiled at her, she creamed in response. He was sexy beyond belief and chock full of charisma, but he had an ego as great as the pyramids, a huge turn-off. It was kind of a relief he turned off the charm and turned on the asshole whenever she was around.

She set up her tripods and cameras in optimal locations, and checked her remotes while the band warmed up. Everything was ready. She started with her handheld, just walking around focusing in on each band member in succession.

Eric stopped playing mid-song. “What’s the point of putting all your shit in our way if you aren’t even going to use it?”

“It doesn’t look like it’s in your way, and how do you know I’m not using it?” She held up one of the small remotes.

A quick shake of his head, and Eric started them over from the beginning. After a few minutes, he told them all to stop. “Tim, stop trying to play with me on this. You’re bass. You don’t follow Daniel and me.”

“I’m not. I’m trying to fill in the blanks, I just can’t tell where you’re going ‘cause you keep changing it up.”

Faith couldn’t resist. “I don’t play bass — I fill space.”

Eric’s head whipped around to look at her.

“That’s good, I like that,” Tim said. “How’d you come up with it?”

“She didn’t,” Eric growled. “It’s a quote from Rick Danko.”

“Who is Rick Danko?”

“Arguably one of the best bass players in history,” Eric said, just as Faith said, “The best bass player ever.” He scowled at her. “How do you know of him?”

“I’m a student of rock and roll,” she shrugged. “I probably should have learned to play, but my parents didn’t want me to. They wanted me to go into law.”

“They must be so proud,” Eric said, rolling his eyes. He turned to Tim, “Seriously, how do you call yourself a bass player, but don’t know who Rick Danko is?”

“Sorry,” he shrugged. “I just play. It’s easier when I have something to play along with.”

Faith turned her head away to grin, but she could sense Eric’s rage. Temper, temper!

She spent the next ten hours waiting for them to get it right. A quick dinner break to a burger joint around the corner proved Tim and Daniel to be nice guys. Thankfully, Eric stayed behind.

“So, seriously Faith, how do you know all these obscure quotes from famous guitarists?” Tim asked, sticking a fry in his mouth. “I loved the Eddie Van Halen thing the other night.”

“I don’t know. I read a lot of interviews, watched MTV all the time growing up. In high school, I had almost all the back issues of Rolling Stone, read every one, cover to cover, but my mom threw them out.”

“You’re kidding. Why would she do that?” Daniel asked.

“She said I was becoming a packrat and wasting my time on crap. I cried for days,” she said, tears filling her eyes at the memory. “We don’t get along very well,” she added.

“I remember when she did that,” Jose said, nodding. “We took you out and got you shitfaced. Do you remember?”

“Not very well.” What she did remember was her ex-boyfriend, Taylor, leaving her sitting on her front steps, too drunk to know she was home.

“So tell me another good one,” Tim said.

“What, a quote?”


She thought a moment, searching her mind for something memorable. “I don’t want you to play me a riff that’s going to impress Joe Satriani— give me a riff that makes a kid want to go out and buy a guitar and learn to play. Mr. Ozzy Osbourne.”

“I’ve heard that one,” Daniel said. “I like it.”

Jose checked his cell phone. “Hey, it’s getting late. We’d better get back.”

“Should we get something for Hitler?” They all laughed at her.

“You don’t pull any punches, do you?” Daniel asked.

“I call ‘em like I see ‘em,” she said. “No sense lying to people just so they feel better about themselves.

“He’s really not that bad, in fact, I’d describe him as a nice guy,” Tim said. “I don’t know why you bring out the worst in him.”

“Yeah, well, there are two sides to that coin: he brings out the worst in Faith too,” said Jose.

She snorted. “I’ve seen enough to know  there isn’t enough good side to make up for bad with that one. The guy’s an asshole.”

“Well, I’m going to grab Hitler, the asshole, a burger and fries.” Jose stood and headed for the counter.



Chapter Two


Alone in the studio, Eric balanced his acoustic guitar over his knee and strummed mindlessly. Original, find a rhythm all your own. Eyes closed, he let his fingers lead the way, but everything he started came back to what he already knew. He tried again, humming this time, hoping something would take him over. It was so close, almost there, but the longer he played, the more it sounded like something else.

His knuckles banged the guitar’s soundboard. “Damn it!”

“Don’t focus so hard.” Eric’s head whipped up to find Faith, her camera fixed on him. “Relax. When you’re not concentrating on it, you’ll find it.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” He stood and slammed his guitar against the floor, wincing when he felt the reverberation reach his hand.

Her eyebrows rose and she stared at the guitar. “I was in the back going over some footage when I heard you playing.”

“So now you’re spying on me?” It wasn’t quite what he meant, but the shock of finding he wasn’t alone had him by the throat. The idea that someone might be watching, much less filming his frustration, pissed him off. “Am I going to have to look over my shoulder constantly with you around? This isn’t a reality  show, you know.”

Faith snapped the LCD screen into place and turned the camera off. “Just thought I might catch something worthwhile with my handheld since I was still here. Apparently, I was wrong. Looks like this is going to be a paint-by-numbers gig for me. Bummer.” She grinned. If only he could wipe it off her face.

“Don’t give up your town-whore day job. I have a feeling your film talent is overrated, and you’ll fizzle out before you even finish this gig.” There. It was gone.

“Town whore?”

“Oh, trust me, I’ve heard plenty of stories about you and your tramping around.” His mind scrambled to concoct a story, should she ask for one, but the blush on her face said there was at least one story she wanted to hide. He couldn’t leave it alone, feeding on her anxiety. “This town isn’t that big, you know, and the good things always get around.”

It took a moment, but she recovered. “Jealousy is an ugly creature, Eric. If you had my kind of talent and stories, I doubt you’d be dangling from the bottom rung of the music industry ladder. Every time you slam that guitar, your fingers slip a little more.”

She slung her bag over her shoulder and walked out the door. Fists coiled at his side, Eric kicked the closest thing, the stool he perched on moments before. It hit the floor, spinning in circles until it crashed against Jose’s drum set, the leg poking a hole through the face of the bass. He squeezed his eyes shut. As if things weren’t bad enough, he now had to explain the damage when everyone, including Faith, showed up in the morning.

The sudden violence in his temper alarmed him. A lover, not a fighter was his motto, not that he couldn’t kick some ass if he had to, but lashing out in a physical manner wasn’t normal for him. It was all her. Whenever Faith was near, he was restless, like he needed to be doing something physical. Fucking her was always the foremost urge, followed by running away, and then the desire to punch holes in anything at hand. I need to get laid. The sooner, the better.




The laughter and music at Bernie’s made a good distraction. For a Wednesday night, the place had a descent crowd, and it didn’t take Eric long to find what he wanted. She was beautiful and made his cock hard the minute he saw her. It didn’t bother him  she talked so much— she babbled on while he imagined bending her over his couch, clenching her hips as he rammed her pussy until she shut up and screamed his name.

“My girlfriends and I always catch your shows.” She bounced on her barstool. “You guys are so great; I just know you’re going to be famous one day. My friend Jenny has a major crush on your drummer. Last week we went shopping, and do you know, she bought a see-through tank-top just to wear to your guy’s show? She thinks if he gets a glimpse of her tits, she can get him in bed.” The woman’s lips moved, and Eric felt his own grin, but all he could think about was shoving his dick in her mouth. Even in his imagination, she kept on talking around his cock. It didn’t matter, she was hot, and he could tune her out.

He flagged the bartender down and ordered them each another drink. When he handed the woman her drink, she stared at him expectantly. In tuning her out, Eric must have missed a question. Apparently, interaction on his part would be required after all. “Yes,” he said with a wince. What was he agreeing with or to?

She swiped at his arm. “Silly. Did you even hear me? I asked when you guys play again.”

The question proved her declaration  she never missed a show, false. If she was as loyal as she claimed, she would know  they were done playing locally, something he shared with the audience on multiple occasions. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t after a devout fan, just a good fuck.

“We play next week over in Greensboro.” It wasn’t worth the energy to tell her the truth. As she jumped off her stool to expound with great animation on her plans to drag her friends to the show, Eric glimpsed Jose and Tim over her shoulder.

“Well, would you look at you two, getting along and even hanging out?” Jose slapped the woman on the ass. He did a double-take when she rounded to face him. “Holy shit, I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else. Damn, you look so much like—”

Eric’s enthusiasm for the woman vanished before she started. “Oh my God. It’s you! The drummer. I’ve got to find Jenny. She will absolutely die when she sees you.” Her head bobbed and weaved, looking around the bar.

Jose stared at Eric, his eyes growing larger the longer the woman rambled. The seat of the stool spun as Eric slid off. He put his hand on Jose’s shoulder and leaned in close. “I’m really sorry, dude. I owe you one.” Jose’s mouth dropped as Eric walked toward the door. Behind him, the woman repeated the story of the see-through shirt.




 In the  room, lit only by the glow of the computer, Faith sat mesmerized, as a tormented onscreen Eric sought the inspiration just out of his reach. Even in the replay, she silently prodded him, knowing it was there, waiting for discovery. When Faith zoomed in on the image, his full lips twitched in agony until he started to hum. His gaze lifted, and even now in the video, she could see the intense concentration slightly veiled by his dark lashes.

She hit rewind after he slammed the guitar to the floor, back to the few minutes she caught him unaware of her presence. Without thinking, her hand slid to her thigh, her fingers playing along the inseam of her jeans. Higher and higher they traced. When her fingers brushed along her crotch, Faith’s breath hitched. Onscreen, Eric licked his lips and Faith dug her nail along the thick stitching along her slit, but yanked her hand away when she realized she was doing it.

On the desk, her cell phone pulsated and she jumped, as though caught in the act. Full of guilt, she answered, mocking a drowsy voice.


“Hey, sugar tits, what’s going on?”

Faith recognized the voice and smiled. “Jeremy. Just sitting around, trying to decide what I should say I’m wearing in case you called.”


She leaned back and lifted her feet to the desk, crossing one ankle over the other. “A black lace bra and matching panties.” His frustrated growl made her grin.

“Girl, you’re gonna kill me one of these days. As much as I love our little chats that leave me a blue-balled monster, it’s not the reason I’m calling.”

Her fingers stopped playing with the button of her jeans and went back to the computer. “Oh.”

“Don’t sound so bummed, ya tease. You and I both know you’ll never go through with it.” He chuckled, and Faith sighed. “But don’t feel bad. I’ve got news that will have you floating on the ceiling.”

Even from the little time she spent with the man, she could tell he was giddy with excitement. “Oh yeah? What’s up?”

“Well, I told you  I was going to be working with Blind Cats on their new video, right?”

“Yes, you mentioned it.” The last time they talked, Faith couldn’t get a word in over Jeremy’s elation.

“Well, I pitched you to the producers, and they want you.”

The desk corner scratched her ankle as her feet dropped to the floor. She perched on the edge of the chair. “What do you mean, they want me?”

“I showed them your videos, and they want you to fly out here and work on the Blind Cats production. You can stay with me while you’re here, and you don’t have to thank me. I’ll make a list of ways you can repay me.”

She stared at Eric on the computer screen, unsure of how to answer.

“I knew you’d be speechless.”

The screensaver flashed on and Faith jabbed at the spacebar to bring the image back. “Wow, th…that’s incredible, Jeremy. I don’t know what to say, but— but I think I have to pass.”

After a moment of silence, Jeremy said, “What do you mean, ‘pass’?”

She hit the mute button on the computer and started the video again. “I’m in the middle of a project right now, and it could take a few months. I really don’t have time to come to California.”

“What, you’re in the middle of a two month wedding video? Are you fucking kidding me? Drop whatever it is, and get your ass out here.”

“I can’t. It won’t wait, and I don’t want to drop it.”

“This is the opportunity you’ve been waiting for, Faith. Chances like this don’t come along every day, you know?”

“I know,” she rose and walked to the kitchen. “But I have another opportunity, right here at home.”

“Not as good as this one. Jesus, Faith. Are you kidding me?”

She pulled a bottle of water from the refrigerator, pressed it to her flushed cheek, and then rolled it under her hair to the back of her neck. “It might be. I don’t know yet, but I have a feeling about this.”

“What’s going on?”

Even after she explained what she was doing for Utopian Society, she knew Jeremy couldn’t understand what she felt in her gut. She also knew he wouldn’t forgive her refusal any time soon.

“This is going to make me look like a fool. I told them you’d be here within a week.”

“I’m sorry, Jeremy, but you really should have asked me first.”

“Why? Only an idiot would pass this up.”

“Now I’m an idiot? Trust me; it’ll be me telling you, ‘I told you so,’ not the other way around. These guys are going to be huge.”

“What makes you so sure?”

The video started again when she clicked the play button. “Just a gut feeling. They’re on the verge of a breakthrough, and I want to be here when it happens. I want to capture it.”

“Take the night and think about it, Faith. I don’t want you kicking yourself for letting this go, okay? I’ll wait until tomorrow afternoon to say anything to these guys.”

“My mind is made up. A night’s not going to change that.”

“Damn it, Faith.”

The phone beeped to signal an incoming text. “I gotta go, Jeremy. I have another call. Thanks for thinking of me and I’ll talk to you soon.” She hung up before he could reply and checked her texts.

Want sum veggies from my mom? Sarah hated the fresh vegetables her mother pushed on her all summer.

Sure. She hit send and set the phone back on the desk. Eric’s face stared back at her from the computer screen. You’d better show me something, you little prick, something besides your arrogance, or I will kick your ass to California myself.

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