Congratulations to Louise Lyons on her new release, Beautiful Thunder!
Can romance and rock ‘n’ roll dreams survive with a storm raging around them?
Alex Randall has always wanted to be a rock singer. When he answers an ad from a local band, his dream finally comes true. He loves the stage, and the group’s fans love him. Things couldn’t be better, except for the attraction he develops for the band’s guitarist, Lindsey. Alex is surprised and initially worried, since he only had one brief flirtation with a boy in his teens. But even though he and Lindsey become close and start seeing each other, Alex fears commitment, and Lindsey worries that Alex might only be experimenting.
When Lindsey’s ex contacts him following a health scare, fear and anger drives a wedge between Alex and Lindsey, which causes rifts within the band. Alex and Lindsey’s relationship is still new and fragile, and with Alex unwittingly blaming Lindsey for their problems, it becomes a true challenge for them to weather the storm.
Title: Beautiful Thunder
Author: Louise Lyons
Cover Artist: Maria Fanning
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK | ARe | Dreamspinner Press
Excerpt
Band practice the next evening didn’t happen.
Lindsey didn’t turn up, and Mark tried ringing him several times, but his phone
went unanswered. I didn’t miss the way Mark and Ricky exchanged glances a few
times, and by the time ten o’clock came, they looked worried.
“Alex, can you do me a favor?” Mark asked when
we decided to call it a night.
“Yeah, what?”
“You’re in your car, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” I’d finally given in and started driving
to Mark’s for rehearsals. It was easier and Beeston was nice enough to leave my
car on the roadside and not worry about it.
“I know it’s a bit out of your way, but could
you pop over to Lindsey’s place and check he’s okay?”
“Why wouldn’t he be?” I felt a prickle of
anxiety—both for Lindsey and at the idea of leaving the BMW unattended outside
his house. I remembered where he lived from when we’d dropped him off on the
way back from a couple of our own gigs. Lindsey had an upstairs flat in a
converted terraced house. The area looked like a warzone, with windows on some
properties boarded up and a few of the tiny overgrown gardens filled with junk.
I’d seen a burnt-out car on a patch of rough ground on one occasion.
Mark glanced at Ricky and back at me. “I don’t
know, just a feeling. He never does this. He calls if he can’t make it. You
know his address, don’t you?”
“Yeah. Okay, I’ll go.”
“Ring me and let me know,” Mark added.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Ricky shrugged. “It’s not up to us.”
“What isn’t?” I didn’t get why they were
obviously keeping something from me.
“Nothing. You know he’s in a kind of crappy
relationship. He gets upset sometimes, that’s all.”
“Well, I don’t think I’m much of a relationship
counselor.” I grimaced and pulled out my car keys. “Okay, I’m going.”
In twenty minutes I turned into Lindsey’s
street. I parked in front of his house and looked around anxiously as I locked
the car. A couple of teenagers skulked along by a fence on the opposite side of
the road, and I kept an eye on them until they turned out of sight into an
alley. I was probably worrying too much, but my car was my baby, and I envisioned
coming back and finding its wheels missing or graffiti spray-painted all over
it. Then again, I only had to knock on the door. Lindsey would probably come
out and ask me what the fuck I was doing bothering him, and then I could go
home and ring Mark.
I walked up the path of broken paving slabs and
pressed the doorbell. There was no sound inside, and I knocked loudly on the
wooden door. Turning my back to the building, I looked up and down the street
again, but there was no sign of anyone else. I knocked again and waited another
couple of minutes. Then I cautiously tried the door handle. The door wasn’t
locked, and it swung inward with a faint squeak.
“Lindsey!” I stepped into a tiny
three-foot-by-six hallway with a flight of stairs directly in front of me.
Lindsey didn’t answer, and I took one last look at my car and made my way up
the stairs. When I reached the landing, I found four doors that I imagined must
be the bedroom, lounge, kitchen, and bathroom. “Lindsey?”
Two of the doors stood ajar, and I looked into
the first room to find a tiny bathroom with a toilet, sink, and shower.
Darkness filled the bedroom next to it. I felt around on the wall for a light
switch, and seconds later the room flooded with light. A double bed was
positioned under the window. I gasped in horror when I saw Lindsey lying on it.
He rolled away from me, covering his face with his hands.
“What the fuck happened to you?”
“Go away.” His voice was muffled, and he
coughed and groaned.
“Fuck.” I went over to the bed and sat on the
edge. A substantial amount of blood stained his white T-shirt. Despite his
attempts to cover his face, it was easy to see his split lip, and his nose had
bled heavily. I felt sick when I imagined someone hitting him, obviously
several times.
“Christ, Lindsey, who did this?”
“Alex, just go, please. I’m all right.”
“The hell you are.” I touched his arm gingerly
and then gripped it and pulled at him. He resisted for a moment but then turned
onto his back. The left side of his face was swollen and bruised, and the blood
had come from both nostrils and his lip. “Who did this?” I repeated.
“I’m okay.” He pushed my hand away and sat up.
“You’re not okay. You need to go to A & E.”
“Fuck that.” Lindsey pulled the front of his
T-shirt up and dabbed at his nose. Fresh blood oozed from it and dripped onto
his ruined shirt. He pushed me out of the way, got to his feet, and stumbled
into the bathroom. I heard him vomiting and the toilet flushed. I went to him,
flicking on the bathroom light as I stepped into the tiny room. Lindsey
crouched on the floor, and what horrified me the most was that he was crying.
Author
Bio
Louise Lyons comes from a family of writers.
Her mother has a number of poems published in poetry anthologies, her aunt
wrote poems for the church, and her grandmother sparked her inspiration with
tales of fantasy. Louise first ventured into writing short stories at the grand
old age of 8, mostly about little girls and ponies. She branched into romance
in her teens, and MM romance a few years later, but none of her work saw the
light of day until she discovered FanFiction in her late 20s.
Posting stories based on some of her favorite
movies, provoked a surprisingly positive response from readers. This gave
Louise the confidence to submit some of her work to publishers, and made her
take her writing “hobby” more seriously.
Louise lives in the UK, about an hour north
of London, with a mad Dobermann, and a collection of tropical fish and
tarantulas. She works in the insurance industry by day, and spends every spare
minute writing. She is a keen horse-rider, and loves to run long-distance. Some
of her best writing inspiration comes to her, when her feet are pounding the
open road. She often races into the house afterward, and grabs pen and paper to
make notes.
Louise has always been a bit of a tomboy, and
one of her other great loves is cars and motorcycles. Her car and bike are her
pride and joy, and she loves to exhibit the car at shows, and take off for long
days out on the bike, with no one for company but herself.
Email: louiselyons013@gmail.com
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