Well, well …
Whod’a thunk I’d write a book that was popular enough to merit a second edition? Ladies and gentleman, welcome to critically acclaimed When the White Knight Falls, winner of the Literary Titan Award! www.amazon.com/dp/B0CY1CF14G
So yeah, that’s enough from me. Let’s take a peek, shall we? I think we’ll begin with the ‘boy meets girl’ …
That’s always my favorite part!
EXCERPT
As a single woman—single, as in unattached—Kate had seldom “gone out”. But there had been the occasional evening…
Kate tied her hair into an artfully disheveled ponytail as she squinted through her stylish glasses, criticizing her appearance in the mirror. Black slacks, frilly faux silk top in a tasteful burgundy Paisley pattern. Okay, so Izzy would probably upstage her in looks—she nearly always did—but Kate grudgingly admitted to herself that she didn’t look bad.
Applying a last-minute dab of lip gloss, Kate picked up her handbag and sallied forth. She had all the pretty trimmings to appeal to nice guys, and a wary attitude to keep away the creepy guys. She was, as they said in New York, “all set”. But who was she kidding? Guys were Izzy’s department, not hers.
As Kate cautiously navigated Route 264 through Virginia Beach toward Norfolk—Virginians had such little regard for speed limits!—she surveyed the shifting cityscapes that bordered the interstate.
Eastern Virginia was terribly ancient, at least by American standards. It had a history and a culture stretching back hundreds of years. Modern high-rises loomed skyward alongside buildings dating back centuries earlier. Kate had always found its heritage fascinating and visited the area’s historic sites every chance she got. The United States had been created by Virginians, and had been governed by their aristocracy for decades, facts that the native Virginians refused to let anyone forget.
Despite all the outsiders that the U.S. Navy imported into the state, Virginia had a culture that was entirely it’s own. Kate loved it here. She found the locals extremely polite, and she so enjoyed their oh-so-famous drawl. She had tried occasionally to use their trademark “y’all” in her speech, but with her Long Island accent it … well, it just didn’t work.
Like any older metropolis, Virginia Beach and its neighboring cities had more than their fair share of ghettoes. The urban mood changed with frightening speed here. One could drive down half a mile of suburbs, with million-dollar homes lining the streets, only to turn a corner and discover the most run-down, crime-ridden hellhole imaginable. As a single young woman, Kate had learned to be cautious. Ghettoes or not, from the elevated vantage point of the interstate, the streetlights made the passing neighborhoods look wonderfully peaceful in the deepening dusk.
Welcome to Norfolk, Kate read on the road sign. Pulling off the interstate, she made a few turns and pulled into the parking lot of a brick apartment complex. She parked along a curb and honked the horn, wondering how late Izzy’d be running. It only took Isabel about twenty minutes tonight. She approached Kate’s aging car in a stunning black mini-dress and four-inch black high heels. Her makeup was flawless, and her dark hair was perfectly coiffed. Even with the heels, Isabel Fellucelli was a tiny, petite thing, but she carried herself like a model. As always, Kate envied her in a friendly sort of way.
Isabel flopped into the front seat of Kate’s car, adjusting her skirt as she slammed the door shut. “You ready, girl? We gonna find you a boyfriend tonight?”
“I have a better idea,” said Kate dryly, pulling away. “Let’s grab a flight to South America and find the Fountain of Youth, okay?”
“How,” asked Izzy, her large brown eyes full of humorous mockery, “can someone as hot as you strike out so often?”
“Maybe I’m waiting for someone special,” moaned Kate. This was a conversation she’d had oh so often with her best friend.
“Well, one of these days,” laughed Izzy. “So what kind of concert is this?”
“It’s not a full band; it’s all acoustic. The ad just listed two guys’ names. I forgot what they were … Al something or other, and somebody else.”
“That’s it? You dragged me out for that?!”
“It was an easy way to get out of dancing!” grinned Kate evilly.
Izzy responded with a friendly expletive, and the two rode in silence the rest of the way to downtown Norfolk. That’s what Kate loved most about Isabel. Sometimes they talked, and sometimes they just hung out in utter silence; either was fine by both of them. There was no need to fill silences with unnecessary conversation. Despite their surface differences, they thoroughly enjoyed one another’s company, and their friendship was wonderfully uncomplicated.
Kate parallel parked on a side street near the Freemason Abbey and stepped out of the car. She unzipped her purse and put her hand inside, reaching for her can of mace; this was not a good neighborhood. That was the nature of Norfolk; even ritzy theatres and museums would often be located in shady places.
It was only a half-block to the Freemason Abbey. Kate kept a cautious eye out and breathed a sigh of relief when she and Izzy mounted the well-lit front steps to the restaurant. They were early enough that she and Izzy could get a table fairly close to the makeshift stage—one end of the dining area had been cleared away to make room for the musicians. The dining room was appropriately antique-looking, with soft lighting and weathered woodwork. Kate looked around appreciatively as she ordered her customary glass of burgundy from the well-dressed waiter.
The lights were still up; Kate guessed that they’d not dim until the show started. She settled into her seat, idly “people-watching” the diners who arrived for the evening’s entertainment in various-sized groups. Kate was beginning to slip into her own world, to let her mind wander away from her surroundings, when something caught her attention. “Would you look at that Taylor?” she blurted suddenly.
“Do what, now?!” asked Izzy in confusion.
“The Taylor. The guitar,” explained Kate. Izzy was predominately a pianist, remarkably polished and quite talented, but she was not Kate. Kate was a virtuoso; she could play virtually any instrument placed in her hands, including a guitar.
“A Taylor,” said Kate. “I always loved the way they sounded. They’re a little spendy.”
“Like that mattered to your family!” snorted Izzy derisively.
“Daddy used the Taylor as an incentive,” continued Kate, overlooking the interjection. “He said he’d buy me one when I could play Jimi Hendrix’s version of ‘All Along the Watchtower’ all the way through without missing a note.”
“And?”
“I didn’t pick up the guitar until I was fourteen. Had he said the piano, it’d have been a no-brainer. I finally played the song all the way through … a week after his funeral.”
Izzy squeezed Kate’s hand impulsively. “Sorry, doll.”
“It’s okay. I’m gonna go peek at it, though.”
Setting her wine glass down, Kate stepped into the makeshift stage area and knelt to examine the guitar that’d caught her attention. There was nothing terribly special about it. Suddenly Kate realized that it was the memory of her father that had taken her, more so than the guitar.
As the realization freed her from the guitar’s spell, two voices caught Kate’s notice. There was a curtain set up behind the instrument stands and Kate could hear people behind it. She was eavesdropping. Like most people, she knew better. And like most people, she was completely unable to stop herself when the opportunity arose.
She was listening to two men, she realized. Tiptoeing nearer the curtain, Kate cocked her head to hear better. She was right out in the open, but the light over the stage area was dimmed. And the diners weren’t, as many Virginians would have put it, paying her a “lick of attention”.
“Dude, did you remember to write a set list?” The voice was sleepy, lazy. Kate envisioned a slightly overweight, amiable guy around the age of thirty.
“Yes, Teddy, I did. You remembered the effects pedal, right?” The responding voice was deep. Not “James Earl Jones” deep, but definitely “George Clooney” deep. And he didn’t say “I did”, not really. It sounded more like “Ah did”. And his “you” was more of a drawn-out, graceful “yew”.
While she couldn’t place Teddy’s place of origin, his nameless friend was southern, probably a local. Kate was suddenly tempted to giggle as images from Gone with the Wind played uninvited through her mind, but she bit her lip. Her head was nearly pushing in the curtain; the slightest expression of mirth would betray her.
So would the curtain being opened, which happened with stunning suddenness. Kate gasped and stumbled backward, panicking as the houselights dimmed. Snagging the kitten heel of her shoe on the leg of a nearby guitar stand, she lost her balance and began falling backward. Bracing herself for an incredibly embarrassing tumble, Kate closed her eyes.
She froze as a pair of strong arms grabbed her, stopping her fall mid-topple. Kate peeked out through slightly skewed glasses into the greenest pair of eyes she’d ever seen. They were so bright that they almost shone, arresting and comforting all at once. Slowly her rescuer’s face came into view. He was ruggedly handsome, with a chiseled face and long, sandy-brown hair.
He hadn’t lifted her up yet. The corners of his mouth trembled, as though he laughed easily and was tempted to do so now. “You need training wheels for your shoes,” he said evenly.
There was that “yew” again.
“Your chin needs a shave,” retorted Kate.
“Touché!” laughed her rescuer, lifting her to her feet. Kate felt her face turning instantly purple. She’d been rude, but, in her state of vulnerable consternation, that’d been all she could think to say. Actually, the stranger’s stubble made him look very masculine and quite attractive, but she couldn’t very well tell him that now.
“Thank you,” murmured Kate bashfully, adjusting her top and straightening her glasses. “I was, um …”
The stranger assumed a mocking half-smile. “You were looking for the bar and got lost, I assume,” he said breezily. Now that he was standing straight up, Kate realized that he was quite tall. Tall, and fairly well-muscled, too. Losing all of her self-assurance, Kate just gulped.
“Do please forgive me. I seem to have forgotten my manners. I am Alexander Murdenson, but you may call me Alec.” Apparently anxious to set her mind at ease, he offered his hand.
Kate took it, still terribly embarrassed. “Kathryn,” she gulped. “Kathryn Leigh McCoy. My friends call me Kate.” Now why the blazes had she given him her middle name?! She never went by it. Kate was having a terrible time pulling herself together.
“Well, Kathryn Leigh,” smiled the stranger, putting a hand on her shoulders and turning her gently away from the stage. “What’s your favorite band?” His touch was gentle, and reassuring without at all making her feel as though he was forcing anything on her.
“Pink Floyd,” said Kate readily. She followed his lead with trembling steps, toward her table. Had Alec watched her coming in? Sitting down?
Izzy stared with naked envy as Kate approached. She rose to speak, but Alec beat her to the punch. “Alec Murdenson, miss …” he said affably, offering his hand.
“Isabel,” said Izzy, taking it with her brightest smile. Izzy was never tongue-tied. “You have fast reflexes!”
“And you have an inquisitive friend,” laughed Alec, pulling Kate’s chair out for her. “What are you ladies drinking tonight?”
“Bloody Mary, extra hot,” replied Izzy, sitting again and primly adjusting her skirt.
“Kathryn Leigh?” asked Alec.
Kate moaned inside as Izzy raised an eyebrow. She’d caught the Leigh, and the formal first name. “Burgundy,” squeaked Kate, turning an even deeper shade of crimson.
“We’ll make sure,” said Alec, giving the girls a final wave, “that you get a round on us. Enjoy the show!”
And then he was gone. He said something in passing to a waiter, and slipped behind the curtain. The stage curtain rippled a little as Alec passed through, as though it were eager to conceal a secret.
“Wow!!! You are—”
“Clumsy,” interjected Kate. “And nosy,”
“And lucky as hell!” said Izzy unabashedly, narrowing her eyes. “He’s gorgeous. I may have to go up there myself and fall down. Maybe see what else comes out from behind the curtain.”
Folding her arms on the table, Kate laid her head in her hands. “Be my guest,” she moaned. She figured that her face was probably glowing in the dark by now.
“It’ll have to wait,” laughed Izzy. “They’re starting.”
Kate took a most unladylike gulp of Burgundy before she turned toward the stage. Maybe she could relax now, since Alec probably couldn’t see her with the dimmed house lights.
“Kathryn Leigh!” teased Izzy, in a loud whisper.
“Pipe down!” hissed Kate.
As it turned out, Alec’s friend was very much what Kate had envisioned upon hearing his voice. He was slightly overweight and looked like he was very easygoing. He picked up a guitar from one of the stands, but not the Taylor. The Taylor was Alec’s, something that made Kate suddenly like him a great deal. She found herself scrutinizing him, trying to figure him out as he made small talk while tuning his guitar.
Alec began playing softly; the tune was not one that she recognized. Neither were the words that he began singing. But when she heard them Kate sat bolt upright in her chair, nearly choking on her wine. Dear lord, what a voice! she thought. What a stunning, mesmerizing, haunting, melodic voice. Throughout the next few songs, Kate closed her eyes often. It was an old habit of hers. When she wanted to listen to something, really listen, she would close her eyes and sit absolutely still.
One’s of Kate’s listening sessions was rudely interrupted by a hesitant whisper. “Excuse me?”
Embarrassed, Kate opened her eyes long enough to accept a fresh glass of Burgundy from the waiter. Apparently, Alec had left instructions with him on his way back to the curtain. She took an appreciative sip; it was an excellent wine, whatever label it was.
When the applause died down after Alec’s last song, he flipped over his set list and smiled at the audience. He seemed so comfortable with himself, so relaxed. Kate found his self-assurance rather enchanting.
“We have an unrehearsed addition to our set list tonight,” he said. “But since only I know this one, Ted is going to leave us for a minute, just long enough to slam a drink at the bar.”
Everyone applauded as Ted rose from his seat, waved, and headed for the bar. He seemed the total opposite of Alec. Alec was very rock ‘n’ roll, even at a glance. Ted was wearing Dockers and a button-down shirt; his dress, appearance, and haircut all seemed indicative of an office job. But he played well, and Kate’s applause for him was genuine.
“Like I said,” continued Alec, adjusting the guitar across his lap, “this one is completely unplanned, but I promised it to our newest fan. She just kind of … fell into our circle of friends, if you would.”
Kate laid her head in her hands, dying inside of mortification as the crowd around her tittered with laughter. At least some of them, apparently, had noticed her onstage escapade.
“Without any further ado,” grinned Alec, “here’s a cover for y’all. If you know it, feel free to sing. I need all the help I can get.”
No, you don’t, thought Kate fiercely. You don’t need anyone’s help at all, and you probably already know that. Whether Alec needed the help or not, Kate was surprised to find her own alto voice joining his. He’d promised her a Pink Floyd cover, and he was as good as his word. Better yet, he’d chosen “High Hopes”, one of her favorites.
When he finished the song with a flourish, Kate took off her glasses and wiped tears from her eyes. One man, one voice, with one instrument, had seldom managed to summon from her such a sense of grandeur. Alec did, though, and Kate found herself saddened when he announced the end of the concert.
“Go give him your number, girl!” urged Izzy when the lights went up. “You want to, and he wants to have it. Go. I’ll get the check.”
Standing, Kate summoned all of her courage and headed for the stage. Alec was standing amid a small group of newfound fans, chatting and laughing. She could just mingle with them. She wouldn’t look too forward, and maybe they could talk a little more. Maybe she could even slip him her number. Maybe she could get him to agree to “meet for coffee”. She liked coffee. She could do that. Just needed a little more courage. She could start by thanking him for the song …
“Hey Al!” someone yelled from behind Kate. “You gotta load your truck up fast, man! There’s a cop out there threatening to ticket you!”
There was a sudden, panicked gathering of instruments and gear, and then Alec was gone. Just like that. Kate stepped slowly away from the stage, angry with herself for being angry with herself. He’s just a musician, she told herself furiously. There’s no reason to get upset.
Izzy was signing the meal receipt. “Did you give him your number?”
Kate didn’t answer. Izzy looked at her soberly for a minute, and for once had nothing lighthearted to say.
“Come on, babe,” she said, taking Kate’s arm. “It was a great show, and I’m glad we came. C’mon, let’s go.”
Nodding numbly, Kate followed her outside.
END EXCERPT
So there you have it! If you like your tales a little on the dark side, if you’ve ever experienced the raw power of a rock show … Well, this book’s for YOU!!! https://books2read.com/u/4jYnyY
