Blurb
Can romance and rock ‘n’ roll dreams survive
with a storm raging around them?
Alex Randall has always wanted to be a rock
singer. When he answers an ad from a local band, his dream finally comes true.
He loves the stage, and the group’s fans love him. Things couldn’t be better,
except for the attraction he develops for the band’s guitarist, Lindsey. Alex
is surprised and initially worried, since he only had one brief flirtation with
a boy in his teens. But even though he and Lindsey become close and start
seeing each other, Alex fears commitment, and Lindsey worries that Alex might
only be experimenting.
When Lindsey’s ex contacts him following a health scare, fear and anger
drives a wedge between Alex and Lindsey, which causes rifts within the band.
Alex and Lindsey’s relationship is still new and fragile, and with Alex
unwittingly blaming Lindsey for their problems, it becomes a true challenge for
them to weather the storm.
Excerpt
The car pulled up
outside the address at exactly eight thirty. The house itself was in darkness,
but I could see a glow around the edge of the garage doors. I walked up the
drive and knocked on the steel. The door rolled up slowly, making a screeching
sound that told me it was on its way out. The man who came into view was about
my height, with shoulder-length brown hair and blue eyes. Stubble dusted his
jawline, and his Bon Jovi T-shirt, faded jeans, and running shoes made me
smile. No makeup or spandex in sight. Maybe they wouldn’t be too glam, after
all.
“Hey, I’m Alex
Randall. I talked to Mark on the phone earlier?”
“I’m Mark Short.
Thanks for coming.” The man stuck his hand out, and we shook, before he stepped
back, gesturing me to step inside.
A rug covered most
of the concrete floor and a drum kit was set up at the back of the garage. A
couple of guitars leaned against the wall, and several amps stood around, with
a tangle of cables trailing across the floor. Two other guys sat on a pair of
shabby dining chairs next to the drum kit. One rose and came toward me, a grin
a mile wide on his face.
“Ricky Wade. I
play bass. Mark says we saved the best ’til last. Was he right?”
“I hope so!” I was
pleasantly surprised that the drummer had apparently been singing my praises
after only a few bars over the phone. I hoped it was a good omen.
The third member
of the band remained seated, half turned away and ignoring us. Long blond hair
hid his face, and I took in an outfit similar to those the others wore—jeans
and a long-sleeved T-shirt with Kiss tour dates on the back.
“Linz, you gonna
come and say hi?” Mark asked.
Linz? Lindsey? The guitarist’s a girl?
The blond turned a
little more toward me but didn’t look up. “Hi.” The single syllable was uttered
softly, in a surprisingly deep voice. I raised my eyebrows. Lindsey’s a bloke?
“Hell, Lindsey,
could you be a bit more friendly?” Ricky stepped toward the blond and gave his
shoulder a push.
“Fuck off, Ricky.”
Lindsey rose to his feet and lifted his guitar strap over his head. He tossed
his hair back from his face and ran a hand through it, then stared at me in
silence, hazel eyes drifting from my face, down over my body, and back up. I
stared back. His smooth skin showed no sign of stubble, and his high cheekbones
and straight nose gave his face an attractive, symmetrical look. He narrowed
his eyes, drawing attention to his long lashes, and caught his lower lip
between his teeth.
“Hi, Lindsey,” I
said.
“You’re… Alex,
right?” Lindsey’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he spoke, and I wondered why I
noticed. Maybe because I felt unnerved by his silent appraisal.
“Yeah.”
“Are you any
good?”
“I hope so.” I
smiled, but he didn’t return it.
“Dude, let’s get
on with it, shall we? I can’t be late tonight. I promised Lauren,” Ricky
interrupted.
Mark snickered.
“You haven’t even got a ring on her finger yet and you’re under her thumb.”
“Go to hell,
Shorty. Just because you can’t get a woman for love nor money.”
“I wouldn’t want
one if she was gonna control me like Lauren does you,” Mark said with a
grimace.
Lindsey snorted.
He raised a hand to tuck his hair behind his ear, revealing three rings through
the lobe and a stud in the cartilage, just beneath the tip. I looked at Mark
instead. He was the one who’d already heard me, after all.
“What do you want
me to sing?”
“You didn’t ask him
to prepare anything?” Ricky asked, frowning. “What’s wrong with you, man?”
“Lindsey was
supposed to be arranging all this shit,” Mark grumbled. “I forgot, okay?”
Ricky grumbled and
shot an irritated look at Lindsey. “We’ll have to wing it. What have you got,
Alex?”
“Well, I sang a
few bars of ‘Rattlesnake Shake’ on the phone earlier. I could do that. Or
‘Kickstart My Heart.’” Maybe they wouldn’t want Mötley Crüe. “Kiss, ‘Crazy
Crazy Nights?’”
“Yeah, we’ll do
that. It’s one of the covers we play sometimes,” Ricky said.
“How long have you
been together?” I asked, realizing I knew nothing about the band, not even
their name, assuming they had one.
“A year,” Mark
answered. “We’ve been playing some of the smaller clubs around town and some in
Leicester, Mansfield, Grantham, and around there.”
“And you don’t
have a singer?”
“We had one, but
things didn’t work out. He quit last month,” Ricky explained. “Lindsey’s been
filling in.”
Lindsey frowned
and didn’t look at me. I wasn’t sure whether to speak directly to him or to
Ricky. “He sings as well as playing guitar?”
“Needs must,”
Lindsey answered. I turned to him again, but anything I might have said in
response was drowned out by a squeal from his guitar, clearly a cue to move
things forward. Mark went to the drum kit and sat down.
“Okay, let’s do
this.” Ricky picked up a bass guitar and slung the strap over his shoulder.
“You ready, Alex? Do you want a drink of water or something?”
“No, thanks, I’m
good to go.” I went to the microphone stand in the middle of the compact area
and checked the mic was switched on. Nerves kicked in, my pulse quickened, and
sweat made it difficult to grip the mic. I needed to nail this or I’d be back
to square one, reading the ads every week and finding nothing. I took a breath
to calm myself.
The band started
up, and I glanced around at the three guys. They sounded good together and
looked the part. Mark, behind the drums, kept good time. Ricky stood to Mark’s
left as I faced them, with his bass hanging low across his thighs. His blond
hair, a few shades darker than Lindsey’s, fell into his eyes, and he threw his
head back to toss it away. Lindsey stood the other side of the drum kit, eyes
unfocused as he played. His fingers flew over the strings effortlessly and seemingly
without thought. He stood with his feet planted apart, knees slightly bent. I
flicked my hair back and stared at the microphone in front of me instead. I
needed to concentrate or I’d fuck up and forget the lyrics, or worse, sing out
of tune. Usually singing came naturally, but I was distracted, and I couldn’t
work out why. Maybe because it was so important to me. Maybe because the
musicians were waiting for me to prove I was what they wanted or otherwise.
I listened for my
cue and launched into the first few bars of the song. Half closing my eyes, I
lost myself in the music the way I usually did when I sang alone in my flat. I
forgot three pairs of eyes and ears were focused on me, and I sang my heart
out. When the last note died away, I opened my eyes and realized all three men
were staring at me, Mark with his mouth hanging open.
“What?” I gritted
my teeth. “Was it pitchy?”
“Fuck,” Mark said.
I knew my face
fell. It was the first time I’d sung in front of people who knew anything about
music, and I wondered if I’d spent the last few years wasting my time dreaming
I might one day be a singer. Was I terrible, but too wrapped up in myself to
realize?
“You’re fucking
awesome, man!” Ricky blurted.
“Oh! Wow, thanks.”
I relaxed and grinned at him. I looked at Mark, and he beamed back at me.
“I think we found
our singer. Linz?”
I looked at
Lindsey. His face didn’t betray anything. He avoided my eyes but nodded and
unplugged his guitar.
Ricky put his bass
into a guitar bag and slid the strap over his shoulder. “I gotta go. Lauren’s—”
“Gonna skin you if
you’re late. We know,” Mark teased him. “See you tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Nice
meeting you, Alex. See you soon, yeah?”
“Sure.” I nodded.
I couldn’t believe it was that simple. Was I part of the band now?
“I have to go
too.” Lindsey put his guitar into a case and propped it against one of the
chairs while he pulled on a leather jacket. “See ya.” Then he was gone, and I
was left there with Mark, feeling a little bemused.
Buy
Links
Giveaway
with Rafflecopter
Enter the giveaway for the chance to win
an eBook of Beautiful Thunder, a $10 Amazon giftcard, and a set of bookmarks
featuring Beautiful Thunder and Louise’s first novel, Conflicted, also with
Dreamspinner Press. Winner will be drawn at the end of the tour on Saturday
September 26th.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Author
Bio
Louise Lyons comes from a family of writers.
Her mother has a number of poems published in poetry anthologies, her aunt
wrote poems for the church, and her grandmother sparked her inspiration with
tales of fantasy. Louise first ventured into writing short stories at the grand
old age of 8, mostly about little girls and ponies. She branched into romance
in her teens, and MM romance a few years later, but none of her work saw the
light of day until she discovered FanFiction in her late 20s.
Posting stories based on some of her favorite
movies, provoked a surprisingly positive response from readers. This gave
Louise the confidence to submit some of her work to publishers, and made her
take her writing “hobby” more seriously.
Louise lives in the UK, about an hour north
of London, with a mad Dobermann, and a collection of tropical fish and
tarantulas. She works in the insurance industry by day, and spends every spare
minute writing. She is a keen horse-rider, and loves to run long-distance. Some
of her best writing inspiration comes to her, when her feet are pounding the
open road. She often races into the house afterward, and grabs pen and paper to
make notes.
Louise has always been a bit of a tomboy, and
one of her other great loves is cars and motorcycles. Her car and bike are her
pride and joy, and she loves to exhibit the car at shows, and take off for long
days out on the bike, with no one for company but herself.
Email: louiselyons013@gmail.com
No comments:
Post a Comment