Blog Tour: Dirty Little Secret by Jennifer Echols (Review + Excerpt)

Title: Dirty Little Secret
Author: Jennifer Echols
Expected Publication: July 16th 2013
Publisher: MTV Books
My rating: 4 stars

Bailey wasn’t always a wild child and the black sheep of her family. She used to play fiddle and tour the music circuit with her sister, Julie, who sang and played guitar. That ended when country music execs swooped in and signed Julie to a solo deal. Never mind that Julie and Bailey were a duet, or that Bailey was their songwriter. The music scouts wanted only Julie, and their parents were content to sit by and let her fulfill her dreams while Bailey’s were hushed away.

Bailey has tried to numb the pain and disappointment over what could have been. And as Julie’s debut album is set to hit the charts, her parents get fed up with Bailey’s antics and ship her off to granddad’s house in Nashville. Playing fiddle in washed-up tribute groups at the mall, Bailey meets Sam, a handsome and oh-so-persuasive guitarist with his own band. He knows Bailey’s fiddle playing is just the thing his band needs to break into the industry. But this life has broken Bailey’s heart once before. She isn’t sure she’s ready to let Sam take her there again…

While I have read a number of Jennifer Echols' books before, they're usually either a hit or miss for me. So whenever I picked a book of hers there's always this little cautiousness that comes with it. Yet when I picked Dirty Little Secret, for some reason, I actually felt quite sure that I would enjoy it. Maybe because it was music-themed? Or because the main protag is a fiddle/violin player? (I have serious soft spot for violin players, i.e. Virtuosity)Or maybe because it was just really good? Oh well, whatever it was I'm just glad to say that Dirty Little Secret is definitely a hit for me! It certainly is one of my favorite Jennifer Echols' books.

Bailey Mayfield was a character I easily felt for even from the very start. The emotional baggage she was carrying was something I had easily understood. I could not entirely fault her for her past unwise actions because I can clearly see where it all came from. Instead, I blamed it all to her selfish, unfeeling parents! Bailey was a very likable character; she was a very good sister, daughter and musician. That's why I just couldn't fathom how her parents could easily disregard her like that. So I was really glad when she met Sam Handiman and his band. 

So onto Sam, this guy was someone you could so effortlessly fall into but just as easily you could get pissed off. YET, for some reason, it was hard not to remain too angry with him. This guy is very charming, talented, sweet and so so adorable (although he does carry some pretty intense emotional baggage too). But even with that I like how it was showed how flawed he is too. His strong drive and determination to reach his dream was admirable but sometimes it gets a little too much that he consciously/unconsciously ends up disregarding some other people's feelings. In the end though he learned that there are things or person that is much more important than what he think is.  

Although I don't know much about country music I actually still enjoyed exploring it through here. The dynamic between the band too was amazing. I love how they could easily work and produce a really wonderful music together. 

I'm not sure if this is the kind of book that would work for almost everybody. I admit there are moments that I get a little lost and disoriented in this one, especially with Sam, although I still always found my way back (to him) eventually. Lol! But there are a lot of good and great things that definitely make up for that. In the end, I still end up having a lot of fun reading this. I recommend this book.

Thank you MTV Books for providing a copy of this book.

***Excerpt***

“We’ll see about that,” I grumbled. With my circle skirt sweeping behind me, I spun in Ms. Lottie’s chair and stepped out of her hair-and-makeup alcove. I opened my fiddle case on an abandoned bookcase with a “Romance” sign on top. Better that than “Addiction” or “Family Planning,” which was where my parents thought I was parking my fiddle these days. I ran the bow across the strings, making minor adjustments with the tuning pegs. I didn’t need a tuning fork. I could tune my instrument by ear and I was always right. Other people didn’t believe me, though, and I often spent a whole set of songs gritting my teeth and playing A at a fourth of a step up or down from 440 hertz.

Determined not to let that happen this time, I marched across the bookstore with a smile on my face, which seemed a lot more natural while I was in costume. Mr. Cash and his son sat in chairs on opposite ends of the lounge area, playing their guitars. I would charm them into doing things the way I wanted. I watched them as I walked closer. Johnny Cash was a man about my dad’s age with his dark hair greased and combed into a pompadour. He wore a dark suit with a white shirt and a bolo tie, which worked fine for Mr. Cash but also wouldn’t have turned heads anywhere in Nashville. People around here were a little eccentric about bolo ties.

Ms. Lottie had coaxed his son’s hair into the same glossy pompadour, but his clothes could have passed for current, too, part of the Buddy Holly aesthetic so popular right now at Vanderbilt. He wore low-top black Chuck Taylors, black jeans folded up a few turns like greasers wore them in the 1950s, and a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up above the elbows. The material stretched tight across his chest and biceps. He was big enough to have played football.

As I approached, Mr. Cash never looked up. There was no reason for him to. The lounge area was always busy at this time of the afternoon with musicians milling back and forth between the couches and Ms. Lottie’s area. A 1950s fiddle player coming closer shouldn’t have been an unusual sight.

But his son looked up. I was watching them, listening to the cacophony as they played two different songs in two different keys. I saw the exact moment when Cash Jr. realized someone was making a beeline for him. His dark eyes widened at me, his stare so unabashed and his expression so intent, as if reading my face that I felt myself blushing in response.

And then he grinned at me. His eyes sparkled. The corners of his mouth lifted through a day’s worth of dark stubble, which didn’t quite jive with the pompadour. He definitely was only a few years older than me, and so handsome that I wished for the millionth time I’d never cut my blond hair off and dyed it black. Then I remembered I was wearing my red ponytail wig, which was even worse.

Now I knew what Ms. Lottie had meant when she said he was a heartbreaker. And he hadn’t spoken one word to me yet.

***Giveaway***

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Blog Tour: Freedom Road by T.M. Souders (Review + Excerpt)

Title: Freedom Road
Author: T.M. Souders
Publication Date: September 2012
Publisher: CreateSpace
My rating: 4 stars

Since the tender age of eight, music served as Samantha Becker’s source of solace against her father’s tyranny and her mother’s alcoholism. Now at eighteen, her only dream is to study classical guitar at Juilliard. But when her father’s careless actions lead to an “accident,” which threatens her ability to play the guitar, Sam becomes despondent. Losing all confidence in her future, Sam hides behind the emotional barriers that have protected her for years.

Just when Sam has given up, two unexpected people enter her life, giving her the confidence she needs, and forcing her to evaluate all she’s ever known. Battling her father’s plans for her future, band mates using her for personal gain, and a permanent injury, the odds are stacked against her. With auditions approaching and time running out, Sam must relearn to play the guitar, or be destined to give up her dreams forever.

Freedom Road is a story of a girl's journey in rediscovering herself and reaching her dreams even when almost everything in her life seems to be shattering and crumbling. Sam's story has definitely inspired and touched me in many ways. And this being a music-themed book had my heart even more captivated with it.

Sam is a very talented and gifted girl. Her guitar had become her solace from her very dysfunctional family and broken life. She developed a fiery passion for playing it and it became her dream to get into Julliard. However an "accident" happened that caused her to not almost be able to play. She was disheartened and discouraged and thought that she lost the only thing that really matters to her - her playing. But she met two people that truly cared and believed in her gift despite her new disability. Through them Sam found new confidence to continue playing and reasons why she should not give up.

For someone who knows how to play a guitar, I can say that Sam and I had developed quite a bond in this book. (Although my ability to play doesn't even reached quarter of hers. Haha!) I can say that I was really able to relate to her especially with her passion for playing the guitar. I understand why she was discouraged after the accident when some people might think that it wasn't really that big of a deal. I can imagine who hard it is for her to continue having that disability. But Sam is different, she is truly a gifted child. Her passion and love for playing is very remarkable and impressive. And so with the help of the people who truly cared for her she was able to stand up and believe in herself again. I also love how she was able to realize and learn a lot of things through her journey. Her character really progressed as the story went on and she became a very admirable character.

The writing is wonderful too. I can feel the intensity of Sam's passion in every word and phrases that describes her playing. The emotions were very well layered and I was able to really feel the heartaches and despair of the characters in this book especially with her family. 

The secondary characters, Tad and Laird were both really great. I really adore the both of them. Tad was a very funny and interesting boy and I love how insightful he could be sometimes. Laird was just really sweet and supportive. Moments between him and Sam were just really cute and yeah, swoon-worthy. 

Overall, this book is such a wonderful work. The plot line was very well thought and I love how the author showed insights about growth, forgiveness, acceptance and love. But most of all the passion for music. I was definitely inspired and touched by Sam's story. I recommend this. :)

--------Excerpt--------

I returned home from school and shut myself in my room, grateful to be alone. Leaning against the closed door, I sunk to the floor. My guitar case fell off my shoulder and slithered down my body next to me where I sat, arms wrapped around knees drawn firmly to my chest.

Today was a hard day. And on hard days, I turned to my guitar. But as I stared at the scuffed, black case at my side, apprehension gripped my chest with scorching fingers. I opened the case and stared at the instrument in reverence. The natural vintage surface, as smooth as glass.The rosewood fingerboard and handmade pickguard with its creamy design.

I lowered my legs and lifted the Gibson out of the case, liberating it from the darkness,exactly what my guitar had done for me ten years earlier. I held it, feeling the weight, heavy in my arms like a long lost friend, a patchwork of happy memories. I moved to the edge of my bed and got into position. My left hand curled around the board. My fingers moved onto the strings and I launched into the first piece that popped into my head—“I’ll See You In My Dreams” by DjangoRheinhardt.

I played for several minutes. Crappily. Mangling most of the song, my playing was stilted and unsure. The sounds emanating were those of an amateur. For most of the first half, I had troublestretching my pinky to compensate for my ring finger on the chords. As a result, I ended up lifting my hand too far off the fretboard to create a consistent sound. Little time passed before the tears fell. A sob wracked my body as I missed several notes. I bit my lip until it bled, trying my best to focus on the music and not on my blistering heart. But the song was too upbeat, too happy and discordant from my own frame of mind for me to play well. The tears fell freely after that, until my whole body shook from the force of my anguish, and I could play no more.

I swiped my face with my right hand, sucking a deep breath and trying to calm myself. I breathed in and out, concentrating on the simple task until my chest stopped heaving. “You can do this, Sam. You need this.”

I needed to play. I needed just one song. A song to get me through the rest of the day.A song to get through tomorrow and the week.

I picked something I liked, something I could play before with my eyes closed. I started in on “Only Hope” by Switchfoot. I launched into it, curling my middle finger in place of my ring finger on the fifth fret, A string. I slid my finger up two frets to E. I did well with the first few chords, but when I got to the G power chord, I had to bar the whole third fret with my pointer finger and utilize the rest of them for the chord. I wrecked it. I started over, playing again and trying to find a way around the chord, a way to create the same sound with one less finger, but I couldn’t. I started a third time, then a fourth. I played the same few chords over and over, until I finally went on with the song. But I mutilated the rest of it too.

Stopping, I shoved the guitar off of me onto the bed. I ran a hand through my hair and paced my room. I tried to focus on the steady cadence of my sneakers moving over the floor, but nothing about the sound soothed me. A thousand visions passed through my mind. Ones of me playing at events past—playing with Mr. Neely for hours before and after school, playing at the talent show, at the county fair, at The Clover, the Celtic festival, the Greek festival, the jazz festival, gigs in Richmond. Playing everywhere and anywhere I’ve ever been able. I played with all my fingers. They moved skillfully over the fretboard, needing nothing more than talent and muscle memory to drive them. The sounds which escaped those fingers? Perfection.

I walked back and forth in front of my bed, my steps heavier, faster than before. Reaching up into my hair, my hands clenched automatically, gripping my raven locks by the roots. I pulled and screamed, letting the searing pain in my scalp and the sound of my screaming soothe my ragged nerves. Only, it fueled them instead.

I darted across the room, to the picture of Derek andme at a jazz festival last year, my guitar strung over my back. I ripped it from the wall. I looked down at my desk, and in one smooth motion, I shoved all of its contents onto the floor and upturned it. My heart smashed into my ribs, as I turned and strode over to my bed, where my gaze zoned onto my guitar.

What good was it to me anymore? What good was a guitar I couldn’t play?

I snatched up the guitar—my prized possession—and raised it above my head. I started to bring my arms down, the guitar with it, but I paused. Tears sprung to my eyes. The beating of my heart resounded in my ears. I raised the guitar again and pressed my face into my shoulder, steeling myself for the blow, my muscles coiled. But I hesitated. I stood, arms and guitar suspended in the air, my eyes squeezed shut.

And then, as if whispered to me from above, I heard of all people, Tad’s voice in my head. Speaking slowly, clearly, coolly, triumphantly.Jerry Garcia. James Doohan. Tony Lomi. Django Reinhardt...

I lowered my guitar. With aching limbs, I retrieved the case from the floor and put it away. I stared at the closed case for what felt like hours, realizing I was in-between worlds. One in which I couldn’t play, and another in which I knew I had to, but having no idea how to close the gap, having no idea if I even could, only knowing that I wanted to. I needed to.

Excerpt and Giveaway: Dante's Girl by Courtney Cole

Hi guys! So today I'm happy to share you an excerpt from Courtney Cole's young-adult novel, Dante's Girl as part of its promotional even hosted by AToMR. I'm also hosting a giveaway for a gifted copy (Kindle or Nook) of either of her two other paranormal novels , Soul Kissed and Princess. Giveaway is open international. And if the winner is from US/Canada he/she will also receive a signed 4x6 glossy of Dante's Girl. This ends on October 1.

I have spent every summer since I was ten years old with my father in London. Every summer, since I was ten years old, has been uneventful and boring. Until this year.

And this year, after a freak volcanic eruption strands me far from home, I have learned these things:

1. I can make do with one outfit for three days before I buy new clothes. 2. If I hear the phrase, “You’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto,” even one more time, I might become a homicidal maniac. 3. I am horribly and embarrassingly allergic to jellyfish. 4. I am in love with Dante Giliberti, who just happens to be the beautiful, sophisticated son of the Prime Minister of a Mediterranean paradise. 5. See number four above. Because it brings with it a whole slew of problems and I’ve learned something from every one of them.

Let’s start with the fact that Dante’s world is five light-years away from mine. He goes to black-tie functions and knows the Prime Minister of England on a first name basis. I was born and raised on a farm in Kansas and wear cut-off jeans paired with cowboy boots. See the difference?

But hearts don’t care about differences. Hearts want what they want. And mine just wants to be Dante’s girl.

My heart just might be crazy.

Amazon / Barnes & Nobles

***Excerpt***

There are rose bushes everywhere. And peonies, which are my favorites.  And lots of white marble statues of Greek gods.  And one of Napoleon.  Why in the world is this country so obsessed with Napoleon? 

I am just wondering if the small statue is life-sized when Dante interrupts any coherent thought process that I might have by striding across the lawns with a racquet in hand and wearingshort-short tennis shorts. 

Sweet.

Baby.

Monkeys.

It’s like a slow-motion scene from a movie.  Dante shakes his blond bangs out of his eyes and the sun catches every glint of gold in his hair.  His legs are long, lean, tanned and muscled and HolyCowThereIsAGod.  If I were a man, I would totally be wolf-whistling right now.  But then again, if I were a man, I guess I wouldn’t be wolf-whistling at Dante. 

I’m such a weirdo.

***Giveaway***



Winner’s choice of a gifted ecopy (Kindle or Nook) of Princess or Soul Kissed. Open International. If winner lives within US/Canada, they will also receive  a signed 4x6 glossy of Dante’s Girl.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Find and follow author, Courtney Cole on her:

Website/Twitter/Facebook/Goodreads

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