Sarah studies Johnny on stage the same way all the women and some men in the over crowded house do. She can’t help it. He infiltrates her fantasies; both waking and dreaming. She knows something is wrong and it terrifies her. What’s happened to the dashing rube from the boondocks? Suddenly he can play the guitar like a master, although he’s only had a month of lessons. But despite all logic and sense of self-preservation she’s captivated. Now he’s moving through the crowd and as he passes her she can smell his glandular scent and for an instance their eyes lock, his are fierce and malignant and nitrogen runs down her spine. She tried to warn her husband not to buy the old building, with its storied history. What could be expected? When renovating their newly acquired Creole styled building in New Orleans, they’d discovered lewd postcards advertising the talents of ladies of the night and a mural on the ceiling above the dance floor that depicted sinister cherubs dancing around an orange sunrise and the French words: La Maison Du Soleil Montant, “The House of the Rising Sun.” Despite Sarah’s trepidation they’ve opened a rock club in its hallowed walls and awakened long dormant entities that have been the ruin of many a poor soul and will threaten to devour each and every one of them. But the music never sounded so good.