Music is Everything - #PNR #ShapeShifters #Alcoholism @chris4lamb

By Christina Lynn Lambert (Guest Blogger)

Ever since I was a kid, I have loved music. I remember having a radio in my room and being amazed at the new songs I heard. I noticed how each song told a story with not only words but rhythm and instruments. When I got a tape player, I listened to Africa by Toto over and over. It’s still one of my favorite songs. More than anything else ever has, the notes of a song can soothe me when I’m upset. A good, fast paced song can energize me when I need to get things done. I can turn up the volume and sing when I’m alone, especially when I’m driving down the road. The energy of a crowd at a concert can be inspiring. The connection to everyone around me singing the same song is incredible and beautifully impermanent.

I usually have music playing in the background when I write. If I’m sitting down at the computer or on the sofa with my pen and notebook, steadily laying down the words or trying to fix the words that need rearranging, I have on slower, smoother music— maybe Pink Floyd, Enya, Elton John, or Credence Clearwater Revival. I just let the sound fade to the background. If I’m trying to think up scenes and ideas, I usually get up and do something like go for a walk or a bike ride, even washing the dishes or taking a shower helps to get me unstuck when I can’t think of what to write next. When I’m searching for ideas, I tend to have the music loud and prefer something with a faster beat like Rush, Social Distortion, 80s music, metal, ska, even movie soundtracks.

In my latest novel, Tiger’s Last Chance (Stranger Creatures book 3), the hero, Sean, is a recovering alcoholic and music is his lifeline when things get too intense for him to bear. The song “Ball and Chain” by Social Distortion is playing in Sean’s truck in the first chapter of the story because that song kept popping up in my head as I wrote his character. For Sean, music is the temporary armor that gave him strength and peace while he healed. And I think music is a temporary armor for many. The rhythm and sound give us joy and comfort in the darkest times.

Blurb

While working a case, Sean Whitman is tortured for information, drugged, and bitten against his will by a shape shifter. The fallout leaves him jobless, friendless, and dumped by his girlfriend. Needing a fresh start, he leaves town and opens a private investigation business. Learning to live life sober isn’t easy, but he makes it to the two year mark.

When Detective Nikki Jackson with the Great Oaks, Virginia Police Department calls him, accusing him of breaking into his ex-girlfriend’s house, Sean can’t help but like the sound of her voice, despite her ridiculous accusations. He’s shocked when she calls him back with an apology then asks for his help as a consultant on a case. On the phone, her sweet, slightly Southern voice captivates him. In person, she's unlike any other woman he's encountered, and nearly impossible to resist. But could the sexy detective ever want a man like him?

After Nikki’s last dating disaster, the mountain lion shifter has sworn off men. Then she meets Sean, and with every second she spends around the tall, dark-eyed man, her resolve crumbles. But for some reason, despite the undeniable attraction between them, Sean seems determined to push her away.

An investigation into missing refugees leaves Nikki with more questions than answers. Her refusal to let the matter drop leads her to the discovery of a radical political group’s horrifying plot for dominance. Traitors are embedded within the very organizations meant to keep shifters safe. As the list of people she can trust dwindles, Nikki calls on Sean to help her unravel a web of deceit.

As Nikki and Sean fight for survival, his fear of losing her could become a reality. Will he get one last chance to show her he loves her?

Excerpt

For the briefest moment, Nikki felt the depth to which Sean might be capable of pushing her. His kiss was crushing and brutal. His tongue pushed past her lips and his grip in her hair tightened. If desire were a vine, it would have wrapped itself around her veins and encased her heart. The heat between them flooded her. There was a sweetness, too, in his kiss, and the sweetness made her burn hotter.

A polite cough from inside the waiting car put a quick end to things. Sean pulled away and met her gaze. No words, but she got the message. She wasn’t alone. Comfort and friendship; he’d probably meant the kiss to comfort her and had gotten carried away in the heat of the moment. He’d carried her away with him, and she wanted to take him so much further into the unknown.

With each second, each step towards the waiting car, she tried to find reasons and more reasons to ignore her growing attraction to Sean. The number one reason to forget about the kiss they’d shared—relationships were trouble. She had plenty of other amazing things in her life, including her career, her volunteer work, and her band, even though the band rarely played anywhere because the members had trouble aligning their schedules. She didn’t need a man. Besides, he was probably still messed up over Sydney. Also, he was a regular. Or mostly regular. Not to mention he lived over a thousand miles away in Texas. She should tell him the kiss was a mistake. One look at him and she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. The kiss they shared had been anything but a mistake.

Buy Links

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/b088p6mydb

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/tigers-last-chance-christina-lynn-lambert/1137033221

iTunes: https://books.apple.com/us/book/tigers-last-chance/id1513644203

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/tiger-s-last-chance

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1022227

A little about me

A few years ago, I read my first romance novel and I was hooked, so much so that I decided to give the idea of writing a story a chance. Love, courage, hope, and second chances are a few of my favorite themes. My stories include a fair amount of sarcasm, suspense, steam, and violence. When I’m not writing, I enjoy spending time outside and finding ways to avoid cooking. I live in beautiful Virginia with my husband, two daughters, and a sweet, hairy monster of a dog. 

You can find me on social media at:

Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.com/Christina-Lynn-Lambert/e/B01MCYK0K7

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/christina-lynn-lambert

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/christinalynnlambert

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15900423.Christina_Lynn_Lambert

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/christinalynnlambert

Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/chris4lamb

Wordpress: https://christinalynnlambertwordpress.com

Celebrate Poetry! #NationalPoetryMonth #SaraTeasdale #Logos

April is more than half over, and I haven’t yet marked National Poetry Month here at Beyond Romance!

I thought I’d remedy that today by sharing two poems. The one by Sara Teasdale might well be my all-time favorite poem. It beautifully captures the elusive and overwhelming nature of joy.

The other is one of my own poems, from many years ago. I’ve been writing poetry since I was seven years old. Nobody taught me how (though my parents did read a lot of verse to me). I’ve just always known, it seems, about the special music that can found in language. And I’ve always written about love and desire.

What’s your favorite poem?

What do you think of these?

Barter

Sara Teasdale - 1884-1933

Life has loveliness to sell,

     All beautiful and splendid things,

Blue waves whitened on a cliff,

     Soaring fire that sways and sings,

And children's faces looking up

Holding wonder in a cup.

Life has loveliness to sell,

     Music like a curve of gold,

Scent of pine trees in the rain,

     Eyes that love you, arms that hold,

And for your spirit's still delight,

Holy thoughts that star the night.

Spend all you have for loveliness,

     Buy it and never count the cost;

For one white singing hour of peace

     Count many a year of strife well lost,

And for a breath of ecstacy

Give all you have been, or could be.

Logos

Lisabet Sarai

(for GCS)

the word made flesh.
electric whispers
trace the wires
speed of light
the dream takes shape.

     (here I am now,
     on my knees,
     bound and breathless,
     open and still,
     awaiting your will.)

violet ink
on ivory parchment;
mystic runes
in flickering phosphor
glow and fade;
tangled tales
come alive:
candle light
and velvet shadow,
ruby wine,
leather and steel.

     (seductive, real
     as the lust in your eyes;
     you seem surprised.)

moon embraced
in naked branches,
nightwind breathing
in my hair,
westbound plane
burns through the dark.
I speak your name
and you are there.
fragile walls
between the worlds
melt to mist:
I step beyond
the looking glass.

     (eat me. drink me.
     all transformed,
     logic crumbles,
     powers awaken;
     offered for
     the ritual--
     offered, and taken.)

inscribe the signs,
recite the charms,
weave the web
of words. We practice
ancient art:
veritas
in nomine.

     (Domine,
     you called me, claimed me,
     named me with
     my secret name,
     clasped me
     in this circling flame.)

now we reinvent each other,
mage, apprentice, captive, lover,
fashion masks
from the stuff of Story,
words as lens
to focus longing,
coalesce
vision to flesh.

     (hand molds breast,
     lips taste thigh,
     kisses drenched
     in silver fire:
     forms of
     crystallized desire.)

Brothers .... band mates ... which one will she hurt? #Romance #WomensFiction #Giveaway

Blurb

Bookworm Lily Mitchell vowed never to date another musician, but Dylan Parker is nothing like the stereotype. Sure, he’s mysterious and sexy, with a flashy car and serious bedroom skills, but he’s also smart, hardworking, and humble. He shares Lily’s passion for classic literature and constantly surprises her with romantic gestures. Their steamy relationship moves at whirlwind pace, and Lily has never been happier.

It’s all so perfect that at first, Lily wills herself to ignore the emerging red flags. As her worries about Dylan increase, she finds friendship and comfort in his brother and bandmate, Thomas. But Lily soon discovers that as much as Thomas cares for his brother, he’s also fallen hard for her.

As Dylan spirals further out of control, Lily must decide what she really wants, and whom she is willing to hurt.

Excerpt

I turned and saw that Dylan was staring at me. He leaned in slowly, placed his hands on my cheeks, and pulled me in for the kiss. His lips brushed against mine lightly at first, then relaxed into the kiss slowly. It was a polite kiss, the kind where I could tell he was holding back. Dylan ended the kiss before I was ready, while my entire body still ached to taste him. He’d offered me just enough to convince me that our chemistry wasn’t limited to conversation. His hands dropped from my cheeks, and he squeezed my hand in his. I blinked and tried to control my breathing.

“You’re terrible,” I finally mumbled, smiling.

He grinned in response.

“I mean, really. A sunset walk on the beach, a kiss at the top of the ferris wheel... So cliché.”

“And you love it,” he said.

“I do,” I admitted, glad he hadn’t taken my statement as an insult. I loved romance, and there was no denying that certain things were romantic. There was obviously a reason they became clichés.

“Are you hungry?” he asked when we deboarded.

“I could eat. What did you have in mind?”

He glanced around. “Hot dog and cotton candy?”

I laughed. Leave it to the wealthiest guy I’d ever dated to buy me an amusement park hotdog on our first date. “Works for me,” I said.

About the Author

Liza Malloy writes contemporary romance, women's fiction, suspense romance, and fantasy. She’s a sucker for alpha males, bad boys, dimples, and muscles, and she can’t resist a man in uniform. Liza loves creating worlds where the heroine discovers her own strength and finds her Happily Ever After. When Liza isn’t reading or writing torrid love stories, she’s a practicing attorney. Her other passions include gummy bears, jelly beans, and the occasional marathon. She lives in Hamilton County with her four daughters and her own Prince Charming. Her books Sixty Days for Love, For Love and Italian, and Forbidden Ink are available in paperback and ebook, and can be found on Amazon, iBooks, Barnes & Noble, and Kobo. More updates and fun bonus content available on her website, www.LizaMalloy.com.

Social Media Handles

Twitter: @AuthorLizaM

Facebook: @authorLizaM

Instagram: AuthorLizaM

Pinterest: @authorLizaMalloy

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18966268.Liza_Malloy

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Liza-Malloy/e/B07PY14X4D

Buy Links for The Brothers' Band

Amazon http://bit.ly/38VHMse

 
Barnes and Noble http://bit.ly/2MEeOn0

 
Apple Books https://apple.co/39m2cuz

Links to other books on Amazon

Sixty Days for Love- http://amzn.com/B07PJL92PD

For Love and Italian- http://amzn.com/B07RDXBY6N

Forbidden Ink- http://amzn.com/B07V1Q3VC9

Liza Malloy will be awarding a $15 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Acoustics -- #singing #lyrics #stories

I love my kitchen. And it's not just due to the ample storage and counter space, or the Italian four burner gas stove my landlord installed when we moved in. The wall behind the double sink, under the overhanging cabinets, is ceramic tile - easy to clean, indeed, but better still, offering great acoustics.

When I'm washing the dishes, I sing. I always have. As kids, my brother and I were responsible for this task. We used to sing duets, while I scrubbed and he dried or vice versa. I remember teaching him the first and only song I ever wrote (a romantic ballad entitled "I'm Crying") while tackling some particularly stubborn spaghetti sauce. He's a professional song-writer now; he tells me I inspired him.

My musical opus reduces to that single tune (which I can still sing), although I've penned lots of poetry, which is music of a sort. Unlike my brother, I don't play any instruments, but I have a prodigious memory for lyrics, and to a lesser extent melodies. As a teenager, I dropped piano lessons partly because I never learned to sight read music. After playing a piece two or three times, I didn't need to read it. By the time I got to more complicated compositions, this talent had become a liability.

Anyway, singing in my current kitchen is akin to singing in the shower - better, because I don't need to worry about getting soapy water in my mouth. The wall and the underside of the cabinet create a resonance chamber. My voice sounds rich and full as I belt out my favorite tunes.

Isn't this rich?
Aren't we a pair?

Me with my feet on the ground,

You in the air...

Or:

You want to know

How it will be:

Me and him

Or you and me.

Or:

The blonde in the bleachers,

She flips her hair for you.

Above the loud speakers

You start to fall...

Or:

The minute you walked in the joint,

I could tell you were a man of distinction,

A real big spender...

Or:

Desperado,

Why don't you come to your senses?

You've been out riding fences

For so long...

Unlike nearly everyone else these days, I don't go around with wires sprouting from my ears. I do have a bunch of music on my phone, but I mostly listen to it only when I exercise. Nonetheless my mind hosts an extensive and rather eclectic mental play list. Torch songs from the nineteen forties, folk ballads from the sixties, musicals and G&S operettas, classic rock, blues - I sing them all. It's difficult to sing rock and roll - you need the voices of the instruments as well as the vocalists. But I try.

There are many songs that speak to me, about love and sex, time and loss, risk and reward: Melissa Etheridge's "Come to My Window", Meatloaf's "Anything For Love", Bob Seger's "Night Moves", Bruce Springstein's "Thunder Road":

Have a little faith, there's magic in the night.

You ain't a beauty but hey, you're all right

And that's all right with me.

I used to have a decent singing voice. I sang in my high school chorus, even auditioned for a state-wide choir. My siblings and I won second place on a TV talent show, doing a harmonized version of the Beatles' "Misery". I've always been an alto. Now my voice seems to have become lower and more gravelly with age. It's more difficult for me to follow a complex tune these days too. The words are still there, though, and when I'm singing to the kitchen wall, I sound great.

Lots of authors report that they listen to music while they write. Not me. I'm such a word girl that the lyrics will distract me from my own sentences. Even now, trying to pen this blog post, the songs I've quoted are ringing in my mind, clamoring for my attention.

Our love is an old love, baby.

It's older than all our years.

I've seen in strange young eyes

Familiar tears.

I'd better stop. I feel as though it's cheating to fill up my blog post with lines and rhymes of other people. I could do it, though - without doing a single Google look-up for the lyrics.

The Boys of Summer (#nostalgia #romance #music)

I never will forget those nights;

I wonder if it was a dream.

Remember how you made me crazy -

Remember how I made you scream.

~ Don Henley, “The Boys of Summer”

All of a sudden this afternoon, this song began playing in my mind. I hadn't listened to it in a while, but I discovered that my reaction hadn't changed. “The Boys of Summer” still brings tears to my eyes and sends chills up my spine.

If you're not familiar with the song, go here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NfiKT1N670M

This isn't a particularly good video, but the lyrics will paint their own pictures for you. Or at least, they do for me.

Why does this bittersweet song touch me so deeply? One reason is the fact that it so perfectly captures the blind intensity of teenage passion – the way sex and love get totally confused when you're burning up with desire. When you're young, the nights are magic and they last forever. Everything kiss, every touch, is new and overwhelming. I don't know about you, but I find this song incredibly erotic, perhaps because it reminds me of my own early loves, swept away by the tides of time.

In fact “The Boys of Summer” isn't really a summer song at all:

Nobody on the road;

Nobody on the beach.

I can feel it in the air,

The summer's out of reach...

But it celebrates the glories of summer, bare limbs, bronzed bodies, and heat that rivals the sun. The song pulls you back to the season when the beach was crowded and girls drove around in convertibles, when rock and roll and scent of sun tan oil filled the air. In the brilliant light of summer lust, forever seems possible, even likely.

The song tells a story, too, one that I might try to express in my own medium some day, if I get the chance. Just three verses, and yet I know the characters: the fickle, flirtatious girl “smiling at everyone”, the brash, naïve young man, hurt yet boasting “I'm gonna show you what I'm made of”. And then the third verse, surely the voice of greater wisdom and maturity, “those days are gone forever; I should just let them go.”

But he can't, and neither can I. The memories tempt me back, to relive the thrill and the pain of first love or first lust – if there's a difference.

While looking for a recording to include in this post, I noticed that “The Boys of Summer” was released in 1984 – more than three decades ago. And even then, I was wistfully recalling earlier summers. It's sobering to realize how long ago it was that I first experienced “those nights” of which this song reminds me. I guess I never will forget them. And honestly, I don't want to.

Sneak Peek: Audio release of DEEP BLUE by @KathleenDuhamel (#giveaway #addiction #music)

Blurb

“Barely-not-starving” Denver artist and cancer survivor Claire Martin has almost given up finding an older man with a youthful spirit when she meets charismatic New York soul singer Robert Silver of the legendary band Deep Blue. She soon learns that hero worship can be dangerous, especially when the object of her desire comes with a disturbing past.

Robert is smart and sexy with a self-deprecating sense of humor, but he’s also a man who has suffered from panic attacks, drug abuse, a well-publicized stint in rehab and the death of his wife, screenwriter Elaine Jordan. When his demons resurface on tour, jeopardizing his voice and the band’s future, Claire must decide if she’s willing to take the biggest risk of her life—betting her future on a troubled man.

This tour is for the audio book release of the book. Listen to an excerpt here:

https://soundcloud.com/apparatuspress/deep-blue

About the Author

Kathleen Duhamel is the author of Deep Blue and Deeper. She wrote and illustrated her first short story at the age of eight, and has been a writer for most of her life.. Her love of the written word continued throughout her varied career as a newspaper journalist and editor, public relations executive, freelance travel writer and owner/operator of two small businesses. A native of Texas, she spent most of her adult life in Colorado before relocating to Virginia in 2014, where she lives with her husband, a standard poodle and geriatric cat. She is a lifelong devotee of rock and soul music, contemporary art and pop culture.

Link to book: http://adbl.co/2kY9Y4w

http://www.kathleenduhamel.com/

http://www.facebook.com/kathleen.duhamel

https://www.twitter.com/KathleenDuhamel

Amazon audio link:

https://www.amazon.com/Deep-Blue-Trilogy-Book/dp/B01NAXE6XG

Giveaway!

Kathleen will be awarding a $30 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Use the Rafflecopter below to enter.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Increase your chances of winning! Enter at each stop on the tour!

March 13: Rogue's Angels
March 13: Long and Short Reviews
March 14: Unabridged Andra
March 15: Edgar's Books
March 16: Tina Donahue Books - Heat with Heart
March 17: The Avid Reader
March 20: Fabulous and Brunette
March 20: A Writer's Life
March 21: Romance Novel Giveaways
March 21: Hope. Dreams. Life... Love
March 22: Notes From a Romantic's Heart
March 22: T's Stuff -- review
March 23: Book Lover Promo
March 24: The Reading Addict
March 27: Beyond Romance
March 28: Mixed Book Bag
March 29: Liz's Reading Life
March 29: EskieMama and Dragon Lady Reads
March 30: BooksChatter
March 31: Romance Author Hear Me Roar