Soundtrack For A Book

Do you ever find the books that you read have a soundtrack in your head? 

It doesn't happen for me with every book, but sometimes the author mentions a certain band or song a few times and I start humming it in my mind even when I'm not reading. Or I'm listening to a new song or album when I read the book and the two become linked in my mind.  

It happens to me when I write books as well. I always make a playlist for a new book I'm writing, but the song that comes to embody that book sometimes surprises me. 

When I wrote my rom-com Cover Story, I played the soundtrack to The Blues Brothers over and over. And over. The tone really suited the story, but the main track I played was their version of The Peter Gunn Theme. To me, this is Tobi Fletcher as she's searching for the culprit of the gnomicides - determined and a bit ridiculous. Here, let me show you:

There were two romance themes. The first was Muse's version of Can't Take My Eyes Off You. Any version of this song would have worked, but this version has an irreverence (wait for the chorus) sitting right beside the sensual romance of it. (In fact, I even had my heroine's sister tell her that the hero couldn't take his eyes off her!)

The second romance theme was Pearl Jam's version of Soldier of Love. This song is so perfect about how Simon feels about Tobi:

I also played a bit of ABBA for the perky tone and sense of fun. If you've read the book, you'll know one of the characters, Jazlyn, plays ABBA pretty much all day, so the soundtrack made its way onto the page. (I have a feeling Michelle Douglas will appreciate this one being here!)

Another song that has the sense of fun is Queen's Crazy Little Thing Called Love. I played this one a lot too.

What I'd love to know is: when you're reading a book, do you ever associate a song with what you're reading? Maybe something the author actually wrote on the page, or perhaps a song that just seemed perfect for the story? Or is there a song that you've always thought would make a great book? And besides these questions, I'd love to hear what you think of Cover Story's playlist! :)


 

Sunday Smooch with Rachel Bailey

Welcome to another LoveCats DownUnder Sunday Smooch!

Today we have a smooch from  Rachel Bailey's Cover Story, but first...


... the winner of last week's Sunday Smooch Giveaway is Fedora! Can you please email Stefanie (at) Stefanie-London (dot) com to receive your copy of Breaking The Bro Code. 

And a bonus winner announcement: the winner of Jennifer St George's Giveaway is Lyn! Can you please email jstgeorgeauthor (at) gmail (dot) com to receive your copy of Tempted by the Billionaire Tycoon.


And now for today's Sunday Smooch from Rachel Bailey's Cover Story.



Tobi Fletcher's career is going places. Just ask her. Any day now, she's going to write the story for her Sante Fe newspaper that will Make A Difference. Of course, Pulitzer prizes and the like will soon follow.

Unfortunately, her editor doesn't have the same vision. His vision has her investigating a series of gnomicides. Yes, gnomicides---the wanton murder of garden gnomes.

It's a nightmare for Tobi. She's spent her life working towards a career she can be proud of---and proving she's nothing like her mother. She's intelligent, independent and so uptight she can't even let go to sneeze properly---and, unlike her colleagues, she certainly can't appreciate the funny side of the situation. She wants to work on the big story---a cover-up in a Senator's office.

Reluctantly, she interviews Simon, the man who reported the 'incident' to the newspaper---clearly a lunatic---his four-year old daughter, and the other residents of the street. Along the way, Tobi discovers there are many truths and secrets to be uncovered---other people's as well as her own. The question is, will the truth really set her free?

Scene set-up: Tobi and her sister are at a fair celebrating all things gnome, when she runs into Simon. Simon, his daughter and Tobi's sister all buy a stick of cotton candy / fairy floss, but Tobi's never liked it much. While his daughter and Tobi's sister stroll around, Simon and Tobi take a seat on a park bench away from the action and he tells her he hasn't looked at another woman since he met her...

My heart missed a beat. “Y-you haven’t?” My vocal cords were unaccountably uncooperative, but my eyes were following orders—they transferred focus to my shoes.

“No, and I keep asking myself why. It’s not like you’ve given me an ounce of encouragement or even been pleasant on more than a couple of occasions.”

“Well . . .” It was true, but it didn’t sound so good out loud.

“Although you do run from me a lot, and that tells me something.” I could hear a smile in his voice. “And you did drag your sister away from me earlier. If you didn’t care, I don’t think you’d react so strongly.”

Why did this man find it so easy to see through my every action? Despite feeling a little cornered, I was intrigued enough to probe a little. “Did you come up with any answers, when you asked yourself why?”

“At first, I wondered if it was because you seemed unattainable. I haven’t been with anyone since Isabel died, and so I figured my subconscious had picked someone I couldn’t have.”

It sounded plausible, like one of Grace’s psychobabble theories, and the knowledge was devastating . . . until I remembered he’d said “at first.” I raised my head and looked into his eyes and saw the heat lurking there. “But you don’t think that now?”

“Nope.” He moved closer on the bench seat, close enough for our thighs to touch. A shiver shot up my spine.

“W-what do you think now?”

“Now I think it’s that you plain turn me on.”

That flame that had been simmering low in my belly since we’d run into him leaped back to life. I had to restrain a shiver as Simon kept talking.

“There’s something about your uptightness that makes me want to be the one to make you lose control.”

I swallowed.

His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper even though no one was near. “I want to see you in my arms, so out of control that you’re writhing and screaming with the pleasure of it.” He picked up my hand and raised it to his lips. He kissed my palm gently, eyes not leaving mine. “I want you mindless with wanting me.”

He laid my hand back in my lap, then plucked a piece of cotton candy from the stick he still held. Almost too slowly, he reached forward to put it in my mouth. My lips opened and he placed it on my tongue.

The spun sugar melted almost immediately, leaving an intense sweetness coating my taste buds. It was something that would normally make me turn up my nose, but for some reason, the effect fanned that internal flame more.

When I could get my voice to work, it came out huskier than I remembered. “Are you having some?”

His eyes were still on mine as he nodded and bit into the pink cloud. His tongue looped out to pull the pink mass into his mouth and, dammit, I was jealous of cotton candy. He plucked another piece and held it out to me and I reached forward, this time brushing his fingers with my lips. My breathing had become shallow and fast and, as the sweetness melted in my mouth again, I glanced at Simon’s chest. It was moving in a similar rhythm to mine, although it was much more muscular and framed by nicely defined shoulders. I had another flash of him in T-shirt and boxers on my couch and almost groaned.

My gaze drifted back to the cotton candy and suddenly, I wanted the sweetness in my mouth again. I felt something fall away—possibly good sense—and wanted to experience everything I’d been denying myself. Now.

I wrapped my hand around Simon’s on the stick and moved it closer to his face, my own following closely behind. My cheek brushed his roughened one as I bit into the soft candy. As the sugar dissolved, I could feel Simon’s breath—hear his intake of air. His scent mingled with the sugar and filled my senses. Nothing existed besides him, me and candy.

Then I turned and opened my mouth to more cotton candy—and Simon. The combination of the heat of his mouth and the unbearable sweetness melted any remaining reserve I had. His lips moved over mine, his tongue tasting, entwining.

I ran a hand over his shoulders, feeling the strength I’d seen there. Electricity tingled in my fingertips as they made contact with his skin, and the charge traveled up my arms and through my body. Was that normal? Maybe there was static electricity in the air. Who cared?

The faint sound of the cotton candy landing on the ground was followed by his newly freed arm wrapping around me, pulling me into his lap. I went with extraordinary enthusiasm.

He pulled back and sank his face into my neck. “Tobi, I want you so much.”

Want? Whatever I was feeling went far beyond want. Beyond any simple desire I’d ever felt before. Beyond the nicely contained version of sexual itch I was comfortable with. This was Hollywood-style lust. Without reason. Without sense.

Without control.

For a few more days, Cover Story is available at a special price of 99c at Amazon and iTunes, but you'll have to be quick if you want to grab it before it goes back to normal price. I have one copy to give away, and I'd love to hear if you think there's a food that's suited to kissing. Feel free to be inventive since I don't think Tobi would have guessed cotton candy would work for her!

Come back next Sunday, when the winner of today's giveaway will be announced and a smooch from Annie West will be posted!

Smooch Graphic by WebWeaver

Meet Winston from Cover Story

As regular visitors to the LoveCats will remember, a while ago I introduced Rover, the cat from The Summer of Jake. And now, to be fair to my feline characters, I thought I should also introduce Winston from Cover Story. :)

Winston is also known in the book as Attackcat. He's named after my own beautiful Winston who lived with me for 12 years, and had, let us say... an aggressive streak. That's the real Winston in the photo below. 

Here's a snippet from the first time Cover Story's heroine, Tobi, meets Winston:

I’d turned to walk back to the front door to wait for Valentina when I saw the guardcat sitting in my way. He was quite large, with fluffy black fur and a white streak starting between his eyes and running down his nose. His eyes were fixed firmly on me and they held a warning.

I might not like cats much, but I knew their warning looks. My ex, Cameron, had five cats that were definitely on the list of animals with whom I didn’t get along—it was their rude attitude I took issue with. They would ignore my entry, even when I lived with them, and I know every species has some sort of greeting ritual. Not that I wanted them to act dog-like and slobber and jump on me—no, that would be beyond endurance. Maybe a polite nod of the head or an occasional rubbing on my leg on their way past . . . when I wore something that fur wouldn’t attach to. But nothing. Cameron, they thought, was the sun and the moon—purring when he stroked their chins, sitting on his lap watching TV, rubbing against his legs when he came home.

There were only two instances where they would deign to acknowledge my existence. The first was if they were hungry and Cameron wasn’t home. Then it was a shameless about-face, trying to convince me that I was their favorite human in the world—did they think I was stupid? The second was when it was cold, Cameron had left the bed and they needed my body heat. Then, they’d lie around me on top of the quilt—two either side and one on top. I’d be cat-locked. I rarely like that much body contact with another human, let alone five cats I actively disliked. I’d have to lie there, hoping they’d move. Their collective bodyweight on top of the quilt was enough to pull it taut over my body and pin me to the spot. Any attempts on my behalf to wriggle out would be met with a swift claw to the offending body part—and those claws could somehow break skin through the quilt. I eventually devised strategies to address the situation—gentle prodding with my pillow or throwing my bedside book to the floor to startle them into leaving—but still, I was annoyed that I’d have to resort to such tactics in my own bed.

In return for their disdain, I’d refused to learn their names and would only refer to them by physical characteristics. As in, “Hey, orange cat, get out of my briefcase,” or, “Cameron, the bow-legged cat’s coughing up on your shoes.”

I surveyed Winston’s face. How much damage could he do? There wasn’t a quilt in sight so I was confident I’d be safe.

I took a step toward him and he stood, tail raised, his eyes never leaving mine. Hmm, maybe it’d be better to go around him. I walked several paces to the right to bypass, but he also moved to the right and again took up his attack stance.

I stopped.

He sat.

I moved a leg forward, cleverly feigning a step.

His ears twitched.

I stopped.

I folded my arms and tried to stare him out.

He held my gaze and twitched his tail.

I’d read somewhere that the key in a stand-off was not to blink, and to make the other person . . . er, cat . . . look away first. So I stared back, ready to wait until he faltered.

His gaze was steady, the only movement in his body was the flicking of his tail—and I knew enough to know that was a warning. But I wasn’t scared. I was in this for the long haul, I wasn’t going to be outbluffed by a cat, I wouldn’t let myself be distracted for a second –

“Hey, babe, haven’t seen you around before.”

I turned to see a cocky-looking teenage boy with his thumbs in the belt loops of his low-slung jeans. It was a look I normally liked—but he didn’t even come close to pulling it off. I was about to tell him so when I realized my mistake.

I quickly looked back to Winston, but he’d turned away and had a back leg thrown around his neck, rhythmically licking his fur.

“Damn.” I’d been outwitted by a cat.

Winston momentarily looked up at me, eyes half closed, gloating, then returned to licking himself.

Winston and the rest of the cast of Cover Story will be out in late October with Momentum. In the meantime, tell me, have you ever had a standoff with a cat? Or a dog? Or any other animal? I'd love to hear about it! 

Also, if you want a bit more of a sneak peek into the world of Cover Story, you can check out my Pinterest page for this book.