I gave Derek the blow by blow on what happened. At least at that juncture, it appeared that the group's management effectively blew up an entire tour and stymied Thin Lizzy's commercial momentum in America over what amounted to about $300 U.S. a week even though they were going to be playing 2-3,000 seaters most nights and selling merch. The sheer myopic stupidity of the whole thing was unfathomable. But that's the record industry for you. Derek endeavored to obtain comments on the matter from the band's members and other segments of their organization and was unsuccessful.

We went home and I made dinner. In the middle of the meal, the phone rang. Derek picked it up. "It's for you, love," he said, holding the receiver out for me to take from him. It was Lizzy'a management. They decided to give me what I wanted. I told them to courier the paperwork over and I would have a look at it. If I liked what I saw, I would go to their office the following day and sign it, I informed them. Two hours later, I had the contract in hand and went over it. It was all there. The next morning, Derek drove me to their manager's offices, I signed on the dotted line and I was a member of Thin Lizzy. I then talked over the revised tour schedule. As I thought, they cancelled the first week of the tour, moving those shows to the end of what would be our assault on America as make up dates.

I called Joe, who was still in bed at the time because of the time difference. I told him to help prepare three of my five Marshall stacks to be shipped to the venue in Chicago where they were now going to kick the trek off on December 4th.

I chartered a private jet and flew home to California the following day. Anvil overnighted the road cases we would need for my equipment. Joe packed up my amps and a host of extra cables, batteries and effects. They were sent to our stop in San Antonio. Then I packed up two Marshall stacks, extra guitars (three Les Pauls, a Strat and an Explorer) and my pedal board plus more extra cables not to mention my stage and street clothes, and arranged with a cartage company to take it all to another private jet for me,  where yet another cartage firm would transport the load to the venue upon landing at O'Hare. This was all on my  tab, but I didn't care. I was doing it for fun.

At 6 a.m. On December 3rd, Joe and I departed for Chicago and were met by Lizzy's road manager upon our arrival there. We arranged for the disposition of the equipment and then Joe and I retired to our hotel rooms for most of the rest of the day since it was just too unholy cold to go outside. We had a band meeting after dinner, where I received a copy of the set list.

We checked out of the hotel the day of the show and headed to the venue after Joe and I deposited our personal effects on our tour bus. When we got to the hall, Joe and I were given our own separate dressing/tune up room while the rest of the band were in another. And this is what would happen the entire tour. Scott Gorham would sometimes come over to talk to me for a bit during and after the soundchecks, but otherwise Joe and I were pretty well ignored and we were forbidden to talk to the press. Music Tripper sent someone to cover the first week of the rejiggered tour, but it wasn't Derek due to him being too close to me to be objective, although that writer, Steve Dunbar, was at the dinner party I threw at Derek's home.

Other than being ignored, there wasn't any bullying or pranking of me by anyone. I was left out of the parties they sometimes had, though to be honest, I didn't really care. They were annoyed, though, by the red tolex my backline was enclosed in because it was more attention getting than one or more of the members would have liked, from what I understand. But there was nothing they could do about it in midstream.

The most important thing was that we were killing on stage every night. We all acted like we were great pals during the 90 minutes we were up there, but then Joe and I would be sent back to our confinement in the bowels of the halls we performed at. Through the grapevine, Derek heard that the reason that Joe and I were shunted off to one side was that because I was so close to a member of the press they didn't want their offstage activities getting back to him and then see him put that gossip in print. So how we were treated wasn't out of any malice, but image control. I did get rousing cheers from the crowd every night when Phil introduced me, though, and I wore the most flashy clothing, posed and preened as if it was all about me and usually got off a couple of very dazzling improvisations a night. Having Joe to talk to and jam with prevented me from becoming too lonely. All in all, I was glad I did it.

One interesting aspect to this was that Derek later confessed to me that he didn't really want me to go on tour with Lizzy, but he would have felt guilty if he didn't try to give me the opportunity to do it.

The tour, which ended in February, helped boost sales of "Johnny the Fox" to gold status. Unfortunately, the followup record, "Bad Reputation," was totally ignored by radio in the U.S. even though it was a very strong effort that featured some of the best guitar work of Scott's career. Admittedly, the production could  have been brighter and not so compressed sounding. Fortunately, it sold a ton in the UK.

I went back to England to be with Derek and I was basically his housewife the month I was there. Punk rock was now in full effect. The Sex Pistols, in one of the stupidest moves made by a rock band ever, fired bassist and songwriter Glen Matlock and hired professional retard Sid Vicious, the idol of losers everywhere. This would spelll the end of the Pistols as a creative force, but they would live off the material Matlock had a hand in for their first and only proper studio record,  which was released that October. It was a great motherfuck of an LP.

I returned to my home in Southern California in early April and spent a few days at the beach. In June, Derek visited for a couple of weeks and I took him to see Quiet Riot and Van Halen. I went back to England with him and stayed through the end of July. During that time, the Borstal Faction had put out their first album and did their first UK wide tour. Asako recommended that they play in Japan and the band chose to heed her advice. I knew this wasn't going to end well.

Through Derek's relationship with the band, and despite the fact that I had punched out their guitarist, I got a gig as their interpreter/tour guide/gofer for that Japan tour, which was comprised of five dates, three in the Tokyo/YYokohama area and two in the vicinity of Osaka. I had to know their material to answer press questions about it, so I sat down one evening and absorbed the entire opus. The musicianship was pretty rudimentary, but hooky enough to work on a kind of garage rock level.

The band and its road crew/entourage dropped into Tokyo on August 17th. Richard, though, never made it out of the airport. He tried to smuggle a small plastic envelope of heroin in the lining of his luggage and it was discovered by customs, who promptly hauled him off to jail. It appeared that the tour had been aborted before it had even begun. I went to their manager and offered to sit in for Richard, but only if I was paid his share of the band's guarantee, which actually wasn't that much money. The group members were pissed at Richard and opted to take my offer. Therefore, when we played in a half flled club in Shinjuku, Tokyo, there were three very punky looking guys and then me with long straight hair down to my ass and in just jeans, a blouse and black heels. We powered through our hour long set that also included covers of Eddie Cochran's "Summertime Blues" and the NY Dolls "Jet Boy." The crowd wanted us back for an encore, but we were out of songs. IIt wasn't uncommon for punk bands then to do one or two of their tunes twice due to a limited amount of material. That option didn't appeal to me, so I taught them "Louie Louie" real quick and then we went back out and did the suckiest version of it ever. Such was Borstal Faction's Japan debut.

When we got back to the hotel, I taught them "I  Wanna Be Your Dog" by the Stooges and "Neet Neet Neet" by The Damned. We were going to stretch the first of those out while I hammered out a long noisy, primitive solo in order to pad our set. The next two shows were in Yokohama and Kawasaki and those went off well. Again, the crowds were small.

The audiences in Osaka were more vociferous, but still under control and those dates went off smoothly considering. Music Tripper had me write an article about it and I was dead truthful about everything, including how the Japanese press was viewing Richard. Richard wouldn't be released from prison for another two months and was then permanently barred from re-entering the country. Asako was fuming since she had called in a few favors to help them get those gigs.

I returned to California and, by that time, my band had understandably fallen apart. Jessica graduated college and moved to L.A. to be with Maggie. Kelly found another group to play with and Pete decided to throw in the towel as far as music went to concentrate on his upcoming senior year of college and then looking for a real job. Joe and I jammed occasionally, but he was wondering if he should also just make music his hobby rather than an occupation

In October, Derek came to see me again and proposed. I accepted and, after the proper paperwork was filed and I sold my house, I was able to re-enter England as a permanent resident. We married in March, 1978 and honeymooned in Bali. I continued to learn songs that I liked off of albums while basicaly being cook, house cleaner and fuck object to Derek. Music Tripper went under early in 1979 and he opened his own publicist operation afterward. HHis first client was me.

But before he formed the company, Derek attempted to get me the UFO job. Michael Schenker left the group for good in 1978 after going walkabout a couple of times in the past on them. So Derek phoned singer Phil Mogg up and asserted that he had the perfect replacement for the German virtuoso. At the time, Paul Chapman wasn't quite available yet, apparently. So I organize my gear and Derek takes me down to a rehearsal hall in London so Mogg can watch me play. I'm standing there dressed all in black leather with my Flying V when Derek brings him in. "Oh fuck me Derek, are you having me on (pulling my leg) mate? A girl? Is this Candid Camera or something?" "No Phil, she's toured with Thin Lizzy, for fuck's sake" Derek responded. "Oh yeah, as what mate? Their knob cleaner?" "That's my wife Phil. Watch your mouth now," Derek angrily riposted. "So you're going to feed your wife to us then? Don't be a pillock (dumbass), Derek. What will you do if one of us tries to do her?" "Phil, I don't have to do anything because she will litter your band with broken bones." "So you're saying that Yoko Ono here is also a karate expert then? You're mad, man. And for wasting my time just fuck off." With that, Mogg stomped off witthout hearing me play a note. "I told you he was a bit of a knob," Derek reminded me.

II wasn't surprised at all. In my real life, I was a music journalist for a while and heard the stories about Mogg's ego. "It's okay baby," I comforted him. "Obviously, it's not meant to be." "Sorry love," he apologized.

IIn May, 1979, I dragged Derek down to Camden, London to see a formative version of Iron Maiden play with Samson and Angelwitch at a club called The Music Machine. "Iron Maiden are going to be one of the biggest bands in the world," I predicted to him." "They're going to have to do better than what I witnessed tonight, sunshine," Derek evaluated, positing that they weren't quite ready for prime time yet. I agreed with hiim, but I nonetheless buttonholed Steve Harris and Dave Murray afterward to give them a few words of encouragement. This was also before Bruce Dickinson had joined Samson and it was the show that gave rise to the term, " New Wave of British Heavy Metal (NWOBHM for short)." Heavy metal was recharging and I wanted to be in on it.