Shira Anthony's Blog - Posts Tagged "homosexual"

Exactly two weeks until the release of Prelude, book four in the Blue Notes Series of classical music themed gay romances from Dreamspinner Press. Haven't read the others? You don't have to read them in order to enjoy Prelude. Each Blue Notes book is completely standalone. Like the summary? You can dive into the series with any book.

Each Blue Notes book has lots of musical references. Curious about the music in the books? Click on the "Books" tab on my website, pick a book, click on it and scroll down to "Extras." For each book, you'll find a complete playlist with links to the music.

And now I've added one more feature with the newest Blue Notes book: a video tour of some of the places in the book. Might mean I have to fly to Europe to film more (damn good excuse, don't you think?). But I'm starting with a tour of Chicago and the places that are featured in Prelude.

So over the next four weeks, I'll be posting videos I filmed while I was in Chicago with my lovely co-author, Venona Keyes. Here's the little intro Venona and I filmed. Hope you enjoy it! -Shira

Prelude Tour Welcome

Summary: World-renowned conductor David Somers never wanted the investment firm he inherited from his domineering grandfather. He only wanted to be a composer. But no matter how he struggles, David can’t translate the music in his head into notes on paper.

When a guest violinist at the Chicago Symphony falls ill, David meets Alex Bishop, a last-minute substitute. Alex’s fame and outrageous tattoos fail to move David. Then Alex puts bow to string, and David hears the brilliance of Alex’s soul.

David has sworn off relationships, believing he will eventually drive away those he loves, or that he'll lose them as he lost his wife and parents. But Alex is outgoing, relaxed, and congenial—everything David is not—and soon makes dents in the armor around David's heart. David begins to dream of Alex, wonderful dreams full of music. Becoming a composer suddenly feels attainable.

David’s fragile ego, worn away by years of his grandfather’s disdain, makes losing control difficult. When David’s structured world comes crashing down, his fledgling relationship with Alex is the first casualty. Still, David hears Alex’s music, haunting and beautiful. David wants to love Alex, but first he must find the strength to acknowledge himself.

You can pre-order "Prelude" here: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=3798&cPath=55_484

 

Encore , the fifth installment in the Blue Notes Series, was released on November 11th. On December 25th, Christmas Day, the sixth book in the series and first holiday novella, Symphony in Blue , will be released by Dreamspinner Press. Symphony in Blue is also my 10th Dreamspinner Press release! Be sure to check out the Blue Notes Holiday 2013 Blog Tour contest to be entered to win some super prizes, including a brand-new Kindle e-reader loaded with ebooks. Click here to enter on Rafflecopter. You can enter more than once, and there are lots of ways to enter. The contest ends on New Year’s Eve!

Encore is both a coming of age story and a romance between adult men. It’s also the story of modern day star-crossed lovers, and while there’s a happy ending, it’s a very real story of pain, loss, and learning to move on from both. It begins in the 1970s and ends in the present. The characters are musicians, but you don’t need to be a musician to understand their emotional connection, or how important music is in their lives. And there's a special connection between Encore and its predecessor, Prelude: a very special violin. But more about that in a minute...

To say that Encore is near and dear to my heart might be a bit of an understatement. There is more of my heart in this book than any other book in the series (or any other book I’ve written). For those of you who might not be familiar with my personal story, here’s the quick background. I’m a lifelong musician who played violin for 17 years and sang opera professionally for about as long. My mother and my sister were also musicians (my mother is still performing on her harpsichord in her late 70s!). Music is in my brain, my heart, and my soul. Giving up my music career was very difficult for me.

Fast forward to Encore, the 5th book in my of classical music themed gay romance series, Blue Notes. Of all the books in the series, this one has the most connections to my childhood and my early experiences with music. One of them is the violin that plays a pivotal role in the story. That was my violin.

Roger Nelson, once of the main characters, is a supremely talented violinist. For reasons I won’t go into here (don’t want to spoil the story!), he loses his ability to play the violin when his career is just about to take off. His grief over the loss of his music is one of the main sources of tension in the story. At the source of that grief is his beautiful violin, a stunning Italian instrument made by Leandro Bisiach in the late 1800s. That violin is Roger’s heart and soul incarnate. I owned that instrument for about fifteen years, and when I sold it, I felt a real sense of loss. It was like I said goodbye to one of my oldest and dearest friends, knowing I’d probably never see that friend again.

Roger’s violin made its first appearance in Prelude , one of the other Blue Notes Series books. In it, there’s a flashback scene where violinist Alex Bishop plays for the music director of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, the other main character in Encore, John Fuchs. His violin teacher? Roger. Alex is overwhelmed when his teacher, Roger, gives him a new violin. But Alex doesn’t understand the true significance of that gift. In Encore, we see the truth behind it. And the moment when Roger passes that violin on to the next generation of musicians is a pivotal one between the main characters.

While I can't share the scene from Encore (it would spoil the story!), I will leave you with the original scene from Prelude to give you a taste of what you’ll experience in Encore. Want to read the first chapter of Encore? Click here. Hope you enjoy it and good luck in the giveaway! -Shira

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Excerpt from Prelude

“Alex Bishop, meet John Fuchs.”

Alex’s eyes widened with recognition as he reached out to shake John’s hand. “It’s an honor, Maestro. I apologize for being so late, I—”

“Don’t sweat it, son,” the conductor of the Chicago Symphony interrupted with a warm smile. “I’m guessing Roger made you wait on at least a few occasions. He’s certainly kept me waiting a few times.”

This time it was Roger who coughed.

“So I’m told you’re interested in NEC.” John gestured for Alex to sit down next to him, then motioned for Roger to bring Alex a bottle of water.

“I’ve always dreamed about going to New England Conservatory.” Alex winced inwardly at how young and overly eager he must sound. “I’m just not sure I can afford—”

“If you’ve got the talent, there are scholarships available.” John’s expression was both understanding and kind.

Alex accepted a bottle of water from Roger and guzzled nearly half of it. His heart was still racing, but it wasn’t from exertion anymore. Talking to John Fuchs made him incredibly nervous. “I… I’m not sure I’m that good.”

He silently hoped he could manage to play in front of Fuchs without falling on his face—the man was a legend! He’d listened to the conductor’s recordings when his mother was still alive. How old would he be now? Late forties? Fifties? Like most teens, Alex wasn’t very good at judging age, and in spite of the white hair, John’s face was full of youth. Expressive. Attractive too.

“That’s not what I’ve heard.” John shot a wink in Roger’s direction. “Your teacher seems to think I’m not wasting my time.”

“Maestro Nelson is very kind.” Alex’s cheeks heated as he gazed with genuine admiration at the man who had guided him for such a long time. Even now, he wasn’t very comfortable with compliments, although over the years he’d learned to respond to them with something other than stuttered embarrassment. “He’s been teaching me for nearly seven years. He’s never charged me for lessons.”

“True.” Nelson rubbed a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “But you’ve paid your bill by helping me teach the younger students.” He turned and winked at Fuchs. “Alex here’s quite the charmer. The female students especially enjoy his work.”

Alex squirmed in his seat. In all honesty, he loved working with the younger students, but he was more uncomfortable with starry-eyed girls than he was with his teacher’s praise.

Perhaps sensing Alex’s continued embarrassment, John changed the subject. “So what are you going to play for me today, Alex?”

“The first movement of the Wieniawski violin concerto.” Alex was relieved to be moving on from the uncomfortable conversation—playing his fiddle was familiar territory and something he wasn’t self-conscious about.

Roger nodded in tacit approval, then walked over to the upright piano pushed up against the studio wall and pulled a piece of dog-eared music from the substantial pile on the piano’s stand. The piano bench creaked as he sat down.

“Excellent!” John took a swig of his water and sat at attention. “Although I suppose I’ll also have to put up with Roger’s less than stellar piano playing, won’t I?”

Roger scowled good-naturedly at John as Alex pulled his battered instrument from its case. “Dear, dear,” Roger tutted with a quick glance at John. “We really must do something about getting you a new instrument, Alex.”

“This one’s fine, Maestro.” Alex tightened his bow and tucked the violin under his chin.

“No. I really don’t think so. The sound has only deteriorated over the years. It’s really not suitable for someone the likes of Maestro Fuchs.”

Alex stared at Roger in stunned silence. He had no other violin, and he had no money to repair the crack on the top of the old fiddle, let alone buy another instrument. Why would he bring this up now? “But, Maestro, I… I…,” he stammered, his face hot with shame. He knew the violin was woefully lacking, even though he loved it dearly. He’d asked his social worker about whether there might be money available to buy a new one, but she’d just sighed. He was lucky the state paid for his rent.

John shook his head. “Really, Roger, do you have to be so cruel?”

Alex fought the urge to sink into the floorboards and disappear.

For a moment, Alex hoped his teacher was joking. But Roger’s tone was serious, firm. He took a deep breath and began to pack the violin away. He felt miserable—he’d wanted nothing more than to play for Fuchs. He’d already sent his college application to NEC, and he’d been wondering how he’d come up with the money to fly to Boston or even make an audition tape. “I’m very sorry, Maestro Fuchs. I hope that when I get a better instrument, you’ll still be willing to hear me play.”

“Roger….” John blew out a breath that sounded like air being released from a steam pipe.

“Oh… all right,” snapped Roger. “But I couldn’t help it, could I?”

John scowled and shook his head again.

Roger shrugged, then got up from the piano and walked over to the wooden armoire on the opposite side of the room. Without a word, he opened the large doors and pulled something out, then walked silently back over to where Alex was still packing up his ancient violin. “There’s no need to postpone the audition, Alex.”

“What? Why not? But you said—”

“You have a far more suitable violin to play.” Roger pulled a brand-new violin case from behind his back and held it out to Alex.

Alex stared at the case, then back up at Roger, uncomprehending.

“Well? Don’t you want to see what’s inside?”

“S-sure.” Alex gingerly laid the case on the table and popped open the latches to reveal a green crushed velvet lining. Inside were a beautiful violin and not one but two bows. Alex’s jaw dropped. One of the bows alone was probably worth more than he earned in an entire year playing for tips.

“My gift to you, Alex Bishop.” Roger glanced over to John, the wrinkles around his eyes more pronounced with his broad smile.

“But really, I can’t—” Alex could never pay his teacher back for this. It was a gorgeous instrument. Italian, probably nineteenth century. Alex guessed it sounded as magnificent as it looked. It must have cost a fortune. Thousands of dollars. Tens of thousands, even.

“Yes.” Roger cut across Alex. “You can and you will. But you must promise me one thing first.”

“Yes. Of course.” Alex was more out of breath at that moment than when he had first arrived at the studio. “Anything.”

“Promise me that you’ll send me tickets to your Boston Symphony debut,” Roger said, deadpan.

Dreamspinner Press Holiday Sale! All contemporary, westerns, and coming of age stories are 25% off! That means all the Blue Notes Series books, including pre-orders of Symphony in Blue , which will be released on Christmas Day, December 25th, are discounted! And Stealing the Wind is 30% off in honor of its 2nd place finish in the Rainbow Book Awards for Best Illustrated Cover! So stock up on ebooks through December 21st! Happy holidays! -Shira

Today, I'm sharing my recent Blue Notes Holiday 2013 Blog Tour post on Mrs. Condit's and Friends about the inspiration for the Blue Notes Series and Symphony in Blue, which will be released tomorrow, Christmas Day! You can still pick it up on pre-order for 25% off (sale runs through the 28th) at Dreamspinner Press.

Merry Christmas to those who are celebrating! Enjoy and be safe! -Shira

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Reblogged from Mrs. Condit's and Friends

Music is in my blood. In my bones. In my heart. My soul. And yet when I published my first book, there was no music in it. The Dream of a Thousand Nights was fantasy and fairy tale. Escapism. There was a reason I never wrote about music: I wasn’t ready to. The pain of giving up my career as an opera singer was still too fresh, too entangled with deep emotions. For nearly ten years, I avoided classical music. Didn’t talk about it, didn’t listen to it. Then came a trip to Paris in 2009, and everything changed for me...

Let me backtrack a bit. I think everyone knew I would be a musician, even from an early age. I played violin starting at about age 5, studied theory and Dalcroze/Eurythmics before that. I sang. All the time. I sang in school choirs, sang in the Cleveland Orchestra Children’s Chorus, sang in musicals (my first was playing Buttercup in HMS Pinafore in 6th grade), then sang professionally for nearly 14 years. But I gave it up because I wanted to have a family and I wanted a job that was for more than just once or twice a year (and that required me to work in jobs I hated in between to make ends meet). You can hear what I sounded like by clicking here. I knew giving up singing was the right thing for me, but I had no idea how much it would hurt.

The trip to Paris was an epiphany for me: that moment where you understand something you hadn’t understood before. I realized that there was a way for me to connect with my musical past and still move forward. In that moment, the Blue Notes Series was born. I imagined an American, Jason Greene, who runs away from his life in the U.S. to spend part of the winter in Paris. And in so many ways, Jason was me. Jason’s grief over having given up his music haunts him until he learns to make peace with it many years later. In Paris. Add a sexy, talented French violinist, Jules Bardon, and you have the makings of the original book in the series, Blue Notes .

Although I never set out intending to write a series, by the time I got about halfway through writing Blue Notes, I could already imagine more characters. Each book in the series has been a chance for me to connect with a particular aspect of performing and music. In Encore , the latest in the series, I’ve reconnected with some of the men I knew when I sang professionally. Wonderful, beautiful, talented gay men who were forced to live their lives in the closet. Men who suffered and died of AIDS. Men who managed to survive in a world that treated them badly and cast them out for being themselves. Encore is painful in parts, but it’s also a story of hope and true love. It takes conductor John Fuchs and violinist Roger Nelson years to find their happiness, but they do. The book is dedicated men like Roger and John.

I’m celebrating the holidays with another entry in the series. I loved writing this book because I got to revisit all the couples in the first 4 books of the series and share with the readers the characters’ continuing happily-ever-afters. Symphony in Blue , which releases on Christmas Day, will be my 10th Dreamspinner Press release! It’s written in the form of a classical music CD, complete with biographies and liner notes. It has “movements” in which each couple shares a story from their lives together when they all come together at conductor David Somers’s Italian villa over Thanksgiving. The fact that it’s David (Prelude) who conducts this symphony of celebration, given David’s history before he met Alex Bishop, is a celebration in and of itself.

The Blue Notes Series books are about real men in real relationships, with real problems. Are you looking for sexy hot romances with fluffy scenes? I think you’ll like the Blue Notes books. But if you’re also looking for something more—for something more real than Cinderfella and his prince? I think you’ll enjoy these stories about making love work over time and through obstacles. You can find all of my Dreamspinner Press books by clicking here. Want to read more about me and about my books, including free fiction and excerpts? Check out my website, www.shiraanthony.com.

Don’t forget to enter the Blue Notes Holiday 2013 Blog Tour giveaway by clicking here (Rafflecopter). There are plenty of ways to enter, and you can enter more than once by commenting, tweeting, buying books, and liking pages. I’ll be drawing winners on New Year’s Eve at midnight! Prizes include a Kindle loaded with books, a sterling silver music themed necklace, and books! Good luck! –Shira

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Excerpt (Symphony in Blue):

DAVID TAPPED his cellphone, shoved it in his pocket, and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Something ruffle the maestro?” Alex grinned up at him from the couch, his bare feet tucked underneath him, a pile of staff paper scattered about the floor and coffee table. He’d printed out a score for a new composition and managed to knock it off the printer tray. Of course, all the page numbers at the bottom of the sheets were cut off. Damn thing was at least thirty pages and would be a nightmare to organize.

“Nothing that can’t be managed. Unlike your score.” David raised an eyebrow and Alex saw the ghost of a grin on David’s face. “You could just reprint it, you know.”

“What? And waste paper?”

“You’re stubborn,” David said as he picked up several of the pages and set them on the coffee table before joining Alex on the couch. When Alex said nothing, David leaned over and feathered several kisses over Alex’s neck. “Delightfully so, of course. But stubborn nonetheless.”

Alex sighed contentedly and pushed the rest of the music onto the floor. Fine. He’d reprint the damn thing. Later. “Who was on the phone?”

“Aiden.” David spoke the name with his lips so close to Alex’s ear that Alex nearly gasped. David’s voice just did that to Alex—that sexy baritone seemed to resonate through every part of his body. Alex was pretty sure David knew what it did to him too.

“Aiden? I thought he and Sam were in Australia.”

David pulled away and offered Alex a sardonic eyebrow. “Austria.”

“Oh, come on!” Alex laughed. “You know I can hardly keep track of my own schedule. Now you expect me to keep up with his?”

“Not even the correct continent.” David went back to kissing him.

“What was he calling about?” Anything to keep David focused on his neck.

“The party in Connecticut is off. They’re also postponing the civil ceremony in New York for now.”

Alex shot up off the couch. “What? But we’ve been planning the reception for six months now! It’s only two weeks away. What the hell happened? Are they okay? I mean…. Shit. You know what I mean.”

David smiled—a strange expression for someone who’d just learned that he’d wasted four months arranging the party to celebrate Aiden and Sam’s wedding. Caterers, musicians, guests, and a dozen different schedules to coordinate.

“Okay. Fess up. Why are you smiling?”

“Aiden and Sam are fine. They’re just postponing it.” David appeared entirely calm. Too calm. Happy, even?

“Postponing? They’ve been doing that for two years now.”

“Three.”

“Fine. Three years. So why are you happy about it?” Alex pressed. Of course, David was yanking his chain, but he liked that. Anyone who thought David Somers didn’t have a sense of humor simply didn’t know him.

“I’m happy,” David said as his eyes brightened, “because there’s a good reason for it. In fact, there’s a wonderful reason for it.”

Alex laughed. “What reason would that be?”

“Who might be the more appropriate way of say—”

“David,” Alex warned.

“Graziella Michaela Redding.”

“Graziella? You mean….”

“Mother and child doing quite well, I’m told.” David grinned outright this time.

“Cary and Antonio’s baby?”

“Born last night. Almost five pounds. Three weeks early but doing well.” David stood up and wrapped his arms around Alex’s waist. “A good reason to postpone a wedding, don’t you think?”

“The best.” Alex kissed David. “Should we plan a visit in a few weeks?”

“A few weeks?” David’s sly grin made Alex chuckle. “Just because we can’t have the party to celebrate doesn’t mean we can’t take advantage of the opening in everyone’s schedules.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Thanksgiving in Milan. It’s been years since we’ve been able to get everyone together.”

“The villa?” David’s Italian villa was certainly large enough. “But—”

“Is that a problem for you? Last I looked at your schedule, your next performance is in Buenos Aires in three weeks.” David nipped at Alex's earlobe.

“No… it’s not… ah…. Shit, David, I can’t think straight when you do that!” Alex shivered and closed his eyes. “And no. No problem for me. But didn’t you give the staff at the villa the entire month off?”

Alex knew David had completely forgotten about that particular detail. He frowned, then said blithely, “We’ll just have to do it ourselves. Jules and I can handle the cooking. You and Jason can get the placed opened up. Rachel can help you with the rooms.”

“You’re serious about this?”

“Am I ever not?” David pulled at Alex’s earlobe with his teeth. “I’ll call the travel agent and look into rebooking all the air travel.”

“Travel agent?”

Another kiss, a nip, and then: “The travel agent. Too complicated to handle that much rebooking online and you needn’t trouble yourself with that. Just call Jules and Jason and let them know we’ll meet them in Milan on Saturday. I’ll text them the flight information as soon as I have it.”

“Ah…. Okay. Sure. Jules and Jason.” Alex could handle that. He’d been meaning to call Jules to see how the Blue Notes album was coming along anyhow. He’d joined Jules and the other members of the trio on several of the tracks when he’d been in Paris three weeks before.

“Good.” David brushed his lips against Alex’s. “And one more thing.”

“Hmm?” Focus, Bishop, focus!

“This.” David pushed Alex onto the couch and began to unbutton his shirt. “First things first. Always.”

You can purchase the Blue Notes Series books on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, AllRomanceEbooks, and on the Dreamspinner Press website.

Encore: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=4353&cPath=55_484

Symphony in Blue: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=4479&cPath=55_484

Blue Notes Holiday 2013 Blog Tour stops:

November 11th (release day – Encore): Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words (Melanie Marshall)

November 12th: Live Your Life, Buy the Book

November 14th: Michael Rupured’s Blog

November 15th: Joyfully Jay (Blue Notes Cover Art – Interviews with the Artists)

November 18th: Elin Gregory’s blog

November 22nd: Aisling Mancy’s blog

November 26th: Andrew Q. Gordon’s blog

December 6th: Oscar’s Bruised Petals (Sandra Garcia’s blog)

December 10th: Brilliant Disguise (Tali Spencer’s blog)

December 13th: Lily Sawyer's Blog

December 16th: Rebecca Cohen’s blog

December 20th: Purple Rose Teahouse (Charlie Cochet’s blog)

December 23rd: Mrs. Condits and Friends

December 25th: Symphony in Blue Release Day Party at Melanie Marshall’s Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words

December 26th: Book Suburbia

December 27th: Helen Pattskyn’s blog

Welcome! If you’re stopping here first, please be sure to check out all the other wonderful blogs participating in the Power of Love Valentine’s Day Blog Tour. You can find them all here: http://powerofgaylove.blogspot.com/p/the-main-event-page.html Each author is offering up goodies to lucky readers who visit their blogs.

My prize? Well, I have two, actually. The first is for U.S. readers only: a beautiful pair of treble clef earrings or, if you’re not into earrings, a paperback copy of your choice of my Dreamspinner Press novels. The second is for non-U.S. readers only: a $10 Amazon.com gift certificate so you can buy yourself something fun or fill your Kindle to overflowing. Enter by commenting on my blog (don’t forget to let me know if you live in the US or not!). I’ll draw winners after midnight on February 16th.

Happy Valentine's Day everyone! I hope you enjoy the post and the excerpt that follows. -Shira

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Ever since I can remember, I’ve always looked forward to Valentine’s Day. When I was in high school, I remember putting on a big party for friends (and boyfriend at the time) in my parents’ basement. I hung cute decorations from the ceiling, made a heart-shaped cake, filled bowls with candy, even bought a red dress to wear. Each year, such high hopes. And each year, such a disappointment. It wasn't the magical, soul-satisfying, romantic moment I hoped it would be.

In retrospect, I think I’ve realized that to expect so much from a single holiday was pretty silly of me. Still, it’s hard to avoid the hype. For the past six weeks (ever since Christmas, really), I’ve been seeing ads for candy in the newspaper, sexy lingerie at my beloved Zulily.com, fancy dinners out on Groupon, and jewelry sales at malls. How can you not get all excited?

Lest you start to think I’m Scrooge, think again. I’m one of the most hopeful romantics you’ll ever meet! Just ask my friends. I’m the first one to encourage romance, whether it’s rooting on a friend on a blind date, watching someone’s kids while they go on a date night out, or working on writing someone a happy ending. I’m an incurable romantic who truly believes in happy endings. I don’t write stories without them (although I’ve been known to write a few cliff-hangers in my day!).

So why do I think Valentine’s Day is usually a disappointment? Because a single day does not romance make. Think about it. Was the last romance you read a one-day deal? Even with insta-love, romance novels are more than a day long. Romances are about staying in love. And much as I love a happy ending, I believe even happy endings aren’t a particular landing spot in time, but a continuing, loving commitment.

So do I still celebrate Valentine’s Day with gifts and candy and special hugs and kisses? You bet. But I consider the day just another arrow in Cupid’s quiver. Want to sweep your partner of his or her feet? Wear that sexy g-string and matching bow tie or silk boxers. Buy that special someone a gift to make them feel special. But know that the romance is ongoing, and it takes thought and care to feed it well. Valentine’s Day is the icing on the cake. You have to bake a good cake first!

And speaking of romance novels…. I love writing stories about ongoing happily-ever-afters, and about love that grows stronger through challenges and over time. From Taren and Ian, my mermen shifters in Stealing the Wind (soon to be continued in Into the Wind), to my Blue Notes Series books, I celebrate love that lasts and survives.

My Blue Notes Series is all about that kind of love and commitment. Each novel is a standalone with interrelated characters who populate the universe of music and musicians. One of the most romantic of the series is the first: Blue Notes. And on February 19th, Dreamspinner Press will be releasing a 2nd edition of the novel. You can pre-order it now at 25% off on the Dreamspinner Press website.

So I'll leave you with a bit of romance from Paris, the City of Love, this Valentine's Day weekend. An excerpt from the 2nd edition of Blue Notes. Happy Valentine's Day, and may you find romance to last a lifetime! -Shira

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Blurb: Blame it on jet lag. Jason Greene thought he had everything: a dream job as a partner in a large Philadelphia law firm, a beautiful fiancée, and more money than he could ever hope to spend. Then he finds his future wife in bed with another man, and he’s forced to rethink his life and his choices. On a moment’s notice, he runs away to Paris, hoping to make peace with his life.

But Jason’s leave of absence becomes a true journey of the heart when he meets Jules, a struggling jazz violinist with his own cross to bear. In the City of Love, it doesn’t take them long to fall into bed, but as they’re both about to learn, they can’t run from the past. Sooner or later, they’ll have to face the music.

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Jules took a deep breath and closed his eyes once more, gently laying bow to string and beginning the opening phrases with their insistent, rhythmic repetition sounding below the melodic line. The simplicity of the piece was both stunning and heart wrenching. Each phrase built upon the next, rising in intensity and in pitch. It reminded Jason of a prayer, powerful in its stark beauty, and he heard Jules’s soul poured out into every note. And then it was over and Jason was left sitting in silence, staring at Jules as he had in the club, transfixed.


What are you doing? With this thought, he pulled abruptly away from Jules, stared at him for a moment, then frowned and stood up. His heart pounded in his chest, and he felt dizzy.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, his throat dry. “I shouldn’t have… I’m tired. I’m going to sleep.”

“Of course.” Jules appeared to be just as stunned by their brief embrace as Jason was.

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Bio: Shira Anthony was a professional opera singer in her last incarnation, performing roles in such operas as Tosca, Pagliacci, and La Traviata, among others. She’s given up TV for evenings spent with her laptop, and she never goes anywhere without a pile of unread M/M romance on her Kindle.

Shira is married with two children and two insane dogs, and when she’s not writing, she is usually in a courtroom trying to make the world safer for children. When she’s not working, she can be found aboard a 35’ catamaran at the Carolina coast with her favorite sexy captain at the wheel.

Shira can be found on:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/shira.anthony
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4641776.Shira_Anthony
Twitter: @WriterShira
Website: http://www.shiraanthony.com
E-mail: shiraanthony@hotmail.com

I'm always excited when I've got a new book coming out - there's not much better than seeing one of my literary "babies" make its debut. Dissonance , the latest entry in my Blue Notes Series of music-themed gay romances, will be released on August 8th. Like all the Blue Notes Series books, Dissonance is a standalone novel. Yes, for those who have read the other Blue Notes books, you'll recognize a few of the series standbys included David Somers and Alex Bishop. Oh, and Lord Cameron ("Cam") Sherrington from Aria . But it's not necessary to have read those books, so if you're thinking about starting the series and aren't sure which book to read first, why not start here?

To get the party started early, I'm running a giveaway that will end on release day at midnight. I've got a great prize package with paperback copies of the first 5 Blue Notes novels, as well as a tote bag and T-shirt. If the winner is not from the US, I'm offering up a Dreamspinner Press gift certificate and ebook copies of the Blue Notes books (not including Dissonance). You can enter by clicking on this link: http://bit.ly/19tSbFv.

I'll leave you all with the blurb and a never before seen excerpt from the upcoming Dissonance. Stay tuned for the cover reveal and information about the Dissonance Blog Tour! Good luck to everyone! -Shira

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Blurb : British noble Cameron Sherrington has hit rock bottom. The love of his life, opera sensation Aiden Lind, is marrying another man, and Cam knows it’s his fault for pushing Aiden away. As if that’s not enough, someone is trying to take away his family business, and the US authorities are pursuing him on charges of money laundering. Fearing for his safety and unable to return to London, Cam runs, but he’s too broke to find a place to stay, and his fugitive’s life doesn’t even remotely resemble a Hollywood thriller.

Desperate and betrayed by the people he thought cared about him, Cam takes refuge in the subway station where Galen Rusk plays his trumpet for tips. Though Cam hears the beauty in Galen’s music, it’s Galen’s firm hand on his shoulder that stops him from throwing everything away. Their unusual relationship takes a turn that surprises them both, and neither man is sure he wants the complication. Galen is fighting the ghosts of his past, and Cam has his own nightmares to face. When Cam’s troubles threaten to tear them apart, Cam figures he had it coming—that it’s all penance due for a life lived without honesty or love. But he never considered the possibility that he might not survive it.

Excerpt:

Chapter Eleven

Cam settled onto the hard wooden bench at the end of the No. 4 platform. Downtown. How appropriate. He’d watched the Friday night commuter exodus, pale faced businessmen and women eating greasy hot dogs covered in onions and whatever else they dared pile on top as they quickly walked toward the exit for the Long Island Railroad and Metro-North tracks. He’d never before noticed their tired expressions or how the dim station lights made the circles under their eyes appear darker. He did now.

He’d used his last three dollars to buy himself some soup at Au Bon Pain. It had come with about a quarter of a baguette. He’d finished it in five minutes and he’d felt warm. Now, four hours later, the cold had returned, as well as the empty feeling in his stomach. The expensive calfskin jacket looked great, but he hadn’t realized it wasn’t meant to keep anyone warm.

The trumpet player finished another piece. Classical. Haunting. It was getting on midnight, and Cam guessed he’d be headed to wherever he went when he wasn’t playing. Cam hadn’t heard him play on a weeknight. Maybe he played at a different station during the week. Or maybe he had a day job. Cam imagined him as one of those bicycle delivery guys who played chicken with the cabbies on 7th Avenue, hair flying about his face, the bottoms of his jeans held against his ankles with rubber bands or silver tape.

Another train stopped at the station. He moved to the end of the platform where reception was the best and turned on his mobile. He glanced at the screen, cursed under his breath, then shut it off to conserve the dwindling battery. Why the hell hadn’t Dan called him back yet? He could hide here for a day, maybe two, but he needed money. He figured he had about seventy-five cents in his pockets. Maybe a dollar. What the hell could that buy in New York City?

He shivered as the train pulled away and the temperature dropped a few degrees. Maybe there was a reason the homeless people slept in the passages that zigzagged under 42nd street. It’s safer here. He lay down on the bench and tried to ignore the wood that separated the bench into individual seats. No doubt meant to keep people like me from sleeping on the goddamned benches.

He pulled his cashmere scarf out from around his neck and draped it over his head, then scooted up a few inches so one of the wooden separators sat at his waist. Another one cut into his shoulder. He bunched the jacket up and tried to cushion the spot with limited success. His heart pounded. He couldn’t sleep like this. What if they found him?

Fuck this. They won’t find you here. This wasn’t a manhunt. He’d found a discarded newspaper on one of the benches. Nothing about him. Nothing about the investigation. He’d be safe here. Still, he felt anxious enough that he decided to sit up again. He’d sleep upright. Or maybe he wouldn’t sleep at all. At the sound of a train in the distance, his gaze strayed to the tracks. That was when he noticed the trumpet player watching him from a few feet away.

“What are you staring at?” Cam demanded, getting to his feet and backing up toward the wall. And then what? If he’s FBI, are you going to frighten him away with your blinding personality? He took a deep breath. This man wasn’t FBI. Cam had seen him before the entire mess of a situation, before the FBI had even been a blip on his radar. The man was irritating but harmless.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you. You’re British, right?”

Cam waited for more, but the man just kept looking at him. Fucking brilliant. He’d heard of savants who could play but couldn’t manage to feed themselves. “And?” he replied at last, after the man said nothing more.

“Unusual.”

“Last I heard there were 63 million of us. Not so unusual.” Cam closed his eyes. Maybe he’d go away and leave Cam in peace.

“I think you made a mistake,” the man said.

Cam opened his eyes again, about to tell the twit to get stuffed, but he stopped. The trumpet player had moved closer to him and was holding something out in his left hand. A bill. A $100 bill, judging by Ben Franklin’s cheery face peering back at him. The $100 bill Cam had dropped into the trumpet case the week before? He’d kept it? Cam could eat for a week on $100 if he was careful.

“No mistake,” Cam said. Well, it hadn’t been, had it? And if he took the bill, he’d be admitting to this stranger that he was skint.

The man shrugged, then pocketed the bill. “Name’s Galen. Galen Rusk.”

“Hmm.”

Galen didn’t respond, clearly waiting for Cam’s response.

“Cam,” he said.

“Good to meet you, Cam.” Galen offered Cam his hand. Cam hesitated, then shook it. A firm handshake. Confident and warm. In another reality, he’d have wanted to keep holding that hand. Take away the grunge clothing, and Galen would have been someone Cam might have noticed. Cam released Galen’s hand.

“It’s not as cold upstairs,” Galen said after nearly a minute passed in silence.

“I’m waiting for someone.”

If Galen knew it for the lie it was, he didn’t let on, and for that, Cam was thankful. “Sure. No problem.” Galen paused, then added, “Maybe I’ll see you around, Cam. Take care of yourself, okay?”

Why did Americans insist on being so informal? As if the guy cared at all what happened to him. “You too.” Seemed like the proper response. Bollocks, of course.

Galen smiled to reveal a set of dimples Cam hadn’t noticed before, then turned and walked back up the platform and disappeared around the corner. Cam shivered and pulled the collar of his jacket up around his neck.

Another train pulled into the station but only slowed down a bit. An express train on the local track. Cam decided Galen was right: he’d be warmer upstairs. More exposed too, but warmer felt like a higher priority. He got to his feet and wrapped his scarf around his neck. That was when he noticed something on the bench at his side.

A $100 bill.

 

One week from midnight tonight, on August 8th, Dissonance will be released by Dreamspinner Press! And midnight also wraps up the pre-release giveaway (enter below using Rafflecopter!). You can pre-order Dissonance in ebook and paperback at the Dreamspinner Press website! Just click on the book title or on the cover to find the pre-order link.

The Dissonance Blog Tour also starts a week from today over at Prism Book Alliance! I'll be running a blog tour giveaway (of course!) featuring a cool unisex bracelet with the New York City subway map on it, books, gift certificates, and other cool swag.

Dissonance may be my favorite Blue Notes Series book yet. It's got the musical connection readers have come to expect from the series, but it also has a bit of action and some serious angst. Cam Sherrington's a complicated man. Maybe even more complicated that he realizes at the beginning of Dissonance. His story is loosely based on a true story. And although Dissonance has some dark themes, the focus of the story is on hope and healing. For me, Cam was a difficult character to get to know, but once I did, I fell in love with him. I hope you will too!

Don't forget to enter the pre-release contest, because it wraps up in a week! You can enter more than once (in fact, you can enter every day!). You could win a cool Blue Notes Series swag bag filled with paperback books of the first 5 novels in the series (or ebook copies if you live outside the US). Here’s the link to the Rafflecopter giveaway: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/share-code/Y2YwYmE5NDkzMTY4MjgyZWNiMzcwNjVhODk2ZTBjOjQ=/

a Rafflecopter giveaway


Here's the blurb and an excerpt from Dissonance. Enjoy! –Shira

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Blurb: British lord Cameron Sherrington has hit rock bottom. The love of his life, opera sensation Aiden Lind, is marrying another man, and Cam knows it’s his own fault for pushing Aiden away. Then someone tries to set him up and take away his family business. Facing arrest by US authorities on charges of money laundering and with no money to return to London, Cam decides to run. But with no money and no place to stay, it’s not exactly the Hollywood thriller he’d imagined.

When Cam hears Galen Rusk play in a lonely subway station, he’s intrigued. But his assumptions about Galen are all wrong, and their unusual relationship isn’t exactly what Cam bargained for. Add to that the nightmares that dog him nightly, and Cam’s world is shaken to its core. Cam figures he had it coming to him, that it’s all penance due on a life lived without honesty. He just never figured he might not be able to survive it.

Buy Blue Notes Series books on Dreamspinner Press, Amazon,Barnes & Noble, and AllRomanceEbooks

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EXCERPT:

Late September

New York, New York

“NOT HAVING breakfast this morning, my lord?” Luisa asked as she turned from the mirror she was diligently cleaning.

Cameron Sherrington cringed inwardly as he breezed into the foyer. He’d come to abhor the title with a passion. And although he could hardly deny that the money that came with the title paid for his life in New York, he felt a bit removed from all it represented. He loved spending time in the penthouse towering high above East 57th Street. It was his escape from days spent in long meetings arguing with board members over transactions they shouldn’t even bat an eye over.

He knew Luisa liked using his title. She liked to brag to her friends that she worked for royalty, which suited him just fine. Though he did have noble blood, it wasn’t worth shit. He’d met the queen once when his father had dragged him to some gala fundraiser, but it wasn’t as if he could simply ring her up on a whim and ask her to join him for tea. But Luisa didn’t need to know that.

“Not today. I need my cashmere scarf,” he snapped.

She immediately dropped what she was doing, opened the coat closet door, and reached for a scarf.

“Not that one, the beige one,” he snapped again as he snagged it from the shelf above her head.

She closed the door softly and stepped back as Cam checked his reflection in the mirror. He worked his fingers through a particularly stubborn curl that insisted on flopping into his eyes. He frowned at his reflection. He was meeting friends for lunch at a restaurant downtown and needed to look his best. He’d chosen a pair of D&G jeans, a button-down Armani shirt, a light blue hand-knitted Burberry sweater that matched the startling blue of his eyes, and a tweedy Fendi jacket he’d picked up in Italy a few months before.

“Very nice, Lord Sherrington,” she said politely.

Cam shot her an irritated look. What the bloody hell would she know? “Where are my Oliver Peoples?”

She opened the drawer in the small cherrywood table that stood sentry in the foyer and handed the sunglasses to him. “Will you be dining in tonight, sir?”

“No. But make some of that leek and potato soup before you leave for the weekend. I’ll have it for lunch tomorrow.”

She nodded timidly as she waited to return to cleaning the mirror. “Of course, Lord Sherrington. I’ll see you on Monday.”

He finished fiddling with his hair, donned the sunglasses, and pressed the call button for the private lift. “You will. And make some of that greek salad.”

He paid her well—Sherrington Holdings paid her well, more accurately—even paid her when he wasn’t staying at the penthouse, just to keep it up and water the plants. The least she could do was make enough food for the weekend.

“Certainly, Lord Sherrington.”

He stepped onto the lift without a word, exiting into the lobby a minute later as his mobile buzzed. He pulled the phone from his breast pocket, glanced at it, and tapped the screen.

“Uncle. So good to hear from—”

“I’m late to a meeting,” Duncan Sherrington said with obvious irritation. “You asked for an update.”

The clipped response stung. Since Cam’s father’s death, Duncan had been like a father to him, and Cam had tried to make the man happy. Make him proud. But no matter what he did, he never met Duncan’s expectations. He was never good enough, never smart enough, never dedicated enough. He was yet another annoying gnat his uncle was forced to deal with, and lately it seemed an entire swarm of gnats dogged Duncan’s every move.

“Calling with good news, then?” Cam said.

“If nothing new is good news.” In many respects, Cam appreciated Duncan’s forthrightness. Blunt was always better than bullshit. Still, the only interactions he had with Duncan were in the form of verbal swats. Cam stifled his disappointment and bucked up.

“Might be.” Cam waved at the doorman and strode into the bright sunlight.

“I’ve had Henry contact his friend. Nothing more about rumors of an investigation here. Seems Revenue and Customs has better things to do with its time.”

Cam figured as much. He could handle rumors, or ignore them, if he chose to. “Glad to hear it.”

“Are you staying in New York until the end of the month?” Duncan asked.

Cam got the distinct impression that Duncan would be pleased if he stayed. One less irritation. He’d originally planned on staying a week, maybe two. He’d used the excuse that he’d pay a visit to their US subsidiary, Raice Corp., headquartered in New Brunswick, New Jersey, when he’d actually come for Aiden’s Metropolitan Opera debut. He supposed he’d need to make an appearance at Raice’s offices before he headed home. Not that he was in a hurry to return to England—Duncan was more than capable of running Sherrington Holdings. Best damn decision his father had ever made, to appoint Duncan CEO of the company should anything happen to him. And there was no better time to be in New York City than late September. The days were warm and the evenings cool and breezy. Cam had been for a run in Central Park that morning, and the trees were a riot of color. Perfect.

“Possibly,” he answered at last. “Next board meeting isn’t until October. Unless you think you might need me to—”

“We have things under control here. Take your time.”

“Thank you. I will.” Fine. If that was how Duncan felt, he’d stay. Duncan clearly didn’t need him. He tried to brush off the deepening insecurity. What did it matter if Duncan or anyone else at Sherrington Holdings didn’t need him? He liked the idea of staying in New York a few more weeks. Maybe by the time he got back to London, his mother would have fled to warmer climes and he’d spend a peaceful few weeks at his family’s estate in Surrey before the board meeting. Time spent with Lady Vanessa Baines Sherrington anywhere, especially at the estate, which his ex, Aiden, had affectionately referred to as “the castle,” was downright grueling.

Cam heard the sound of rustling paper through the phone and a woman’s voice in the background.

“Good. We’ll speak later, then,” Duncan said curtly.

Duncan disconnected the call before Cam could respond.

Happy bloody birthday to me. Had he really thought Duncan would remember? Fuck him. When had his life become a fucking cliché? Poor little rich boy—no one remembers his birthday. No doubt his mother would forget as well. She usually did. He’d enjoy himself more without a lecture about what he should be doing with his life, anyhow. Maybe turning thirty wouldn’t be so bad. He would rather have celebrated with Aiden, of course, but he’d spend the evening at an impromptu party at a friend’s instead, and he hoped he wouldn’t be going home alone. Aiden would be spending time with Sam. As it should be. After cheating on Aiden—on several occasions—Cam couldn’t expect Aiden to stick around, could he?

A quick glance at his watch told him he had time to take the subway to the restaurant. He loved the subway. He’d ridden it for the first time when he’d visited New York City with his mother twenty years ago, on a school holiday. Not that his mother had known about it. He’d managed to escape his mother’s grasp (which wasn’t all that tight since she preferred to spend as little time with him as possible) and he’d slipped under a turnstile and ridden the Lexington Avenue subway for hours by himself. Before then, he’d ridden the London Tube with his father a few times. His father had preferred it to negotiating London traffic when he stayed in the city. He’d enjoyed that, but riding alone had been far more exciting.

As it always was this time of day, the 42nd Street subway station was filled with people headed in a dozen different directions. Cam had always thought of this station as the heart of New York. The first time he’d come here, he’d gotten lost in one of the underground passages and ended up on a train to Brooklyn. Since then, he’d learned his way around the twisting tunnels so well he could navigate them in his sleep.

He headed for the Uptown platform, mixing in with the stream of people coming from Grand Central and managing not to get jostled. The woman ahead of him wasn’t as fortunate. She pivoted to avoid a couple of schoolchildren and fell, dropping her shopping bags on the dirty concrete floor right in front of him.

Cam didn’t have time for this. He looked around, hoping someone would come to her aid. No one did. Bloody hell. “Are you all right?” He offered the woman his hand.

She smiled at him with blue eyes and a face full of wrinkles, took his hand, and got to her feet. “Thank you,” she said with a self-deprecating laugh. Cam helped her straighten her coat, which was open and had fallen off one shoulder. “I’m not much of a ballerina.”

“Not a problem.” He gathered up a few stray grocery items that had fallen out of the bag when she’d taken her tumble, waited until she dusted herself off, and handed the bags back to her. “It’s a bit like entering a race course,” he said as he reciprocated her smile.

“You’re English, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Indeed, I am.” He glanced at his watch. He’d be late for lunch at this rate.

“I visited London a few years ago with my husband.” Her expression grew wistful. “Before he died. We always said we’d make the trip.”

Cam stifled his rising impatience with the woman. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Very much so. We saw the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace and spent a few afternoons at the British Museum. We took a train to—” She stopped herself. “I do babble on sometimes.”

He offered her a false smile. “It’s quite all right.”

“Thank you, young man,” she said. “My son says I should take the bus, but I like the subway. There’s music too.”

“Music?”

She nodded. “Listen.” She inhaled, pressed her lips together, and began to hum “Ain’t No Sunshine.” For the first time, Cam heard the sound of a trumpet through the noise of the passengers and squealing brakes of an incoming train. He vaguely remembered seeing someone playing for loose change not far from the passage to the S train.

“Oh, but I shouldn’t keep you,” the woman was saying as Cam came back to himself. “I’m sure you have somewhere you need to be.” She patted him on the arm. “You’ve been very kind to an old woman.”

“It was my pleasure.” He wanted to make his escape. He’d wasted enough time with the woman, but she’d piqued his curiosity. Instead of rushing to catch his train, he walked over to where the musician was playing and stopped to listen.