Welcome Shira Anthony to my blog today

I'd like to welcome author, and friend,  Shira Anthony to my blog today.  Let's give her a warm welcome and find out more about her book "Encore"  one of the Blue Notes series.

Heartbreak and Happy Endings: “Encore,” by Shira Anthony

Thanks, Lily, for hosting me today and letting me ramble a little about my brand new Dreamspinner Press release, Encore, the latest installment in the Blue Notes Series of music-themed gay romances.  Be sure to enter the drawing for the Blue Notes Holiday 2013 Blog Tour—I’m offering up some great prizes, including a brand-new Kindle with a bunch of books loaded on it!  Details at the bottom of this post.

For those of you new to the Blue Notes Series, each book is a standalone story (books can be read in any order).  Although Encore is fifth novel by publication date, it is chronologically the first, and it’s a great place to start reading the series.  It’s also one of the angstiest of all the Blue Notes books—a book that will break your heart and put the pieces back together again.  Yes, I promise a happily-ever-after (HEA), I won’t write a book without one, but the road for the two main characters in Encore is far from easy.

My favorite kind of romance is one that has me despairing that the two main characters will find a way to make love work, but that ends with the HEA I’ve been craving.  That’s exactly what I set out to write with Encore.  Being gay in the 1970s was anything but easy.  I’m not saying it’s easy now, but things have changed so much in the past 40 years. 

When John Fuchs and Roger Nelson meet in high school, to say the deck is stacked against them is an understatement.  Family, society, needing to fit in—John and Roger come up against all those things.  John can handle it.  Roger can’t.  And even though Roger loves John more than anything, he pushes John away just when he needs him the most.  It takes Roger a long time to admit that life without John isn’t a life worth living, even though Roger and John are best friends throughout their lives.

I wrote the Blue Notes Series books to celebrate the men, gay and straight, whom I love.  Real men with real problems, making real relationships work.  Encore is dedicated to some of those men and it’s very near and dear to my heart.  I hope you’ll fall in love with those men as much as I have.  I’ll leave you with a short excerpt from the first half of the book, when John and Roger are in college.  Want to read the first chapter of Encore?  Click here. 

Want to win a Kindle loaded with books?  How about a sterling silver music-themed necklace?  Click here to enter the blog tour giveaway.  You can enter more than once, so don’t be shy!  -Shira

Buylinks: 

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

Blue Notes Series: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/index.php?cPath=54_673

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Blurb: Cool kid violinist Roger Nelson doesn’t give a damn about anything. Wannabe conductor John Fuchs is awkward, effeminate, and just figuring out he’s gay. Despite their differences, they become friends—then lovers—and after college, they try to make it work. But it’s the 1970s, and Roger can’t bring himself to admit he’s gay. Worse, after his brother is killed in Vietnam, Roger tries to live up to his memory and be the perfect son. Then after suffering one tragedy too many, he makes the biggest mistake of his life: Roger pushes John away.

Through the years, they dance around the truth and in and out of each other’s lives, never quite able to let go. Twenty years later, Roger still carries the pain of losing his dream of a brilliant career with him, while John is a superstar conductor with a wild reputation. John’s off-stage antics get him plenty of attention, good and bad, though deep down, he wants only Roger. Finally determined to hold on to what really matters, Roger asks John for another chance, and when John panics and runs, Roger has to convince him to listen to his heart.

Note:  Blue Notes Series novels are standalone stories and can be read in any order.  “Encore” is chronologically the first in the series.

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Shira’s 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

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Roger watched the snow fall outside the window of his apartment before glancing over at the clock. It was nearly 9:00 p.m., and John should have arrived an hour before.

“Promise me you won’t come if the snow gets too bad. You know how I-23 can get,” he’d told John that morning over the phone.

“I’ll be fine,” John had reassured him. “With the opera rehearsal schedule and Professor Menard’s vocal performance class, I’d never get to see you if I waited for perfect weather.”

Now, an hour after John was supposed to be here, Roger was pacing the apartment. Worrying. Imagining John’s car somewhere in a ditch. Or worse.

He pulled a beer out of the fridge, popped the top, and resumed his pacing. Ten minutes later, the phone rang.

“Hello!” he practically barked into the handset.

“Roger?”

“Oh, hey, Mom.” Fuck. “How’re you doing?”

“Fine.” She paused, and Roger tried to think of something to get her off the phone. If John needed to get a hold of him, he didn’t want him to get a busy signal. “I’m surprised you’re around on a Saturday night. You usually aren’t.”

“I’ve got an exam on Monday,” he lied. “I can’t talk long.”

“No, of course. I wouldn’t want to keep you from it.” She’d been thrilled when he’d told her he planned on finishing school in three years. He hadn’t told her he planned on moving to New York, where John had already been accepted to do his master’s in conducting at Juilliard.

“Thanks, Mom.” Roger pushed back the curtain on the window in the kitchen with his foot—the long telephone cord didn’t go quite that far. From here, he could see the parking lot. A blanket of white covered the stripes on the asphalt. No John.

“… aren’t you?”

“Huh?”

“I asked if you were coming over on Monday for dinner.” She sounded irritated.

“Oh, yeah. Right. Sure. I’ll be there.” He had to get her off the phone. “Look, Mom. I gotta get back to studying. I’ll see you Monday, okay?”

“Are you sure everything is all right, dear?”

“It’s great, Mom. I really need to go.”

Her huff was audible through the handset. “Of course.”

“Bye.”

He hung up the phone before she could say anything more, and opened the drapes a bit farther. There had to be at least six inches of snow outside. He pressed his nose against the cold glass like he had when he’d been a kid, then closed his eyes. A moment later, the buzzer to the apartment sounded.

Thank God!

Roger scrambled over to the door and opened it to find a disheveled John smiling back at him. “Had to ditch the car over by the Woolworth’s. Forgot my keys. The ploughs haven’t made it this far yet—”

Roger grabbed John and pulled him inside. He was soaking wet, his shoulder-length hair curled at the ends, but Roger didn’t care. He drew John against him, wrapped his arms around his shoulders, and just held him.

“You okay?” John’s voice sounded muffled against Roger’s cheek.

“I am now.”

“Can I take this backpack off?” John asked with a soft laugh. “It’s a little heavy.”

“Oh. Shit. Sorry.” Roger grabbed the pack off John’s shoulders and kicked the door shut behind them.

“You were worried about me.” Not a question, and the way the edges of John’s mouth edged upward, Roger could tell he was teasing.

Roger was tempted to lie, but he was so relieved, he just sighed and said, “Yeah.”

John stared at him in surprise. “You really were worried.”

“Fuck, John, I—”

John kissed him. He tasted of snow and Coca-Cola. Roger closed his eyes as their tongues skirted each other in a now-familiar dance. God, he loved John! More than he could get up the nerve to admit.

For two years they’d stolen every moment they could, working around John’s busy schedule and Roger’s mother. Miranda suspected something. Roger was sure of it. She’d even shown up at the apartment early in the morning on the weekend. John said he was sure she was trying to catch them together. It made things a bit more difficult, but they’d worked it out. John stored his things under the bed, and the bedroom closet was big enough that he could slip inside and hide. They’d left a few pillows behind Roger’s clothing, as well as a flashlight and a few books.

“Don’t worry about it,” John had said the first time he’d hidden there. They both knew Roger needed his parents to pay tuition—at least they hadn’t threatened to stop when Roger announced he was getting his own apartment. “It’s just for a little while.”

Roger came back to himself and realized John was shivering. “Shit, John. You’re freezing your ass off.” He took John by the hand and led him into the bedroom. In the light, John’s cheeks looked pink in contrast to his pale skin. Roger unzipped John’s wet jacket and pushed it off his shoulders. “Stay right there,” he said before stepping into the bathroom to retrieve a towel.

John smiled as Roger dried his face and hair. “Feels good. I like it when you fuss over me.”

Roger’s cheeks heated. “Your pants are soaked,” he said in an effort to mask his embarrassment. He reached for John’s belt, undid the buckle, and unbuttoned the waist of John’s pants. The room was silent except for the sound of the zipper and Roger’s heart pounding in his ears. His hands shook as he pulled John’s pants down—he still hadn’t quite moved past the sinking feeling in his gut that had lodged itself there when he’d worried something had happened to John. He could handle a lot, but the thought of losing John terrified him.

“Are you okay?” John was studying him with a strange expression.

“Yeah.” I am now.

Roger focused on helping John step out of the cold, damp pants. He knew if he met John’s gaze, everything he felt would be obvious. It wasn’t just that he was embarrassed. What he felt was something he’d only begun to understand: vulnerability. The feeling you get when you realize your entire world would come to a screeching halt if the certain someone in your life were to vanish.

John shivered again.

“Get under the covers. I’ll be there in a minute.” Roger watched John pull the warm comforter over himself as he got undressed. He joined John underneath and skated his palms over John’s cold thighs until they warmed to his touch.

“Feels good.”

“You’re still cold.” Roger wrapped his body around John’s and held him. John’s skin was slightly damp against his own.

“I’m fine.” John tucked his chin into the space between Roger’s neck and shoulder. “Really.”

Roger just held him tighter.

“Roger?”

“Hmm?”

“You okay?” John pulled away a bit and looked at him with obvious concern.

“Yeah.”

“Talk to me, Roger. What’s up?”

It was Roger’s turn to shiver. “I told you. I was just a little worried.”

“About me?” John reached for Roger’s face and pulled it gently so that Roger had no choice but to look at him.

“Yeah.” He didn’t want to talk about this. He just wanted to hold John and reassure himself John was safe. He looked away again.

“Hey.” John rolled onto his side so his face was next to Roger’s. “You can tell me, you know. I’m not going to laugh or anything.”

“I know.” Roger hesitated another moment, then said, “It’s just that I feel like an idiot.”

“Worrying about me doesn’t make you an idiot.” John leaned in and kissed Roger’s nose. “It makes me feel good.”

Roger’s breath stuttered. “I kept thinking back to that night… the accident. I kept imagining you in a ditch somewhere. Hurt…. Shit.” He grabbed John and buried his face in his chest. “I dream about that night sometimes, except in my dreams, you’re….” He clenched his jaw and blinked back tears. He’d had a lot of those dreams—nightmares, really—since John had started driving down from Ann Arbor to stay with him. He dreamed he woke up in the hospital and instead of John being all right, the doctor told him they’d done everything they could, and then he was standing in front of a headstone and he knew, he just knew whose headstone it was.

“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you,” Roger whispered. “I’d lose my mind. I love you so fucking much, I don’t know what I’d do.” It took him a moment to realize what he’d just said.

John leaned over and kissed him again, this time on the lips. In the semidarkness, Roger saw John’s eyes sparkle. The edges of his mouth curved upward in a tentative smile as the kiss broke. “You love me?” he asked.

Roger could only nod.

“Thank God. Because I don’t know what I’d do if I was the only one who felt like that.”

“You love me too.” He said the words as though he didn’t believe them.

“Always, Roger.”