A Voice to Love (Fallen Tuesday Book One) (A Brothers of Rock Novel)

Welcome
back to the world of Brothers of Rock!

A
series built on love, life, and rock n’ roll romance!

The
bestselling series continues with rock band,
Fallen Tuesday
!

Meet
the band!

Luke
(lead singer)

Gray
(guitar / piano)

Trent
(bass)

Jake
(guitar)

Mack
(drums)

_____________

Brothers
of Rock
 Books 1 – 5 follow rock band 
Chasing Cross

Don’t
miss a single book in the 
Brothers of Rock
 series!

All
Access
 
(Chasing Cross – Book One)
 – Johnnie, lead singer

Broken
Sound
 
(Chasing Cross – Book Two) 
– Davey, guitarist

Bitter
Farewell
 
(Chasing Cross – Book Three)
 – Danny, guitarist

Buried
Notes
 
(Chasing Cross – Book Four)
 – Chris, bassist

Last
Song
 
(Chasing Cross – Book Five)
 – Rick, drummer

Also
coming in 2014, a brand new contemporary romance series set in the small town
of
Ferry Creek
.

A
series built on love, hope, and redemption…

Look
for the first book in the series –
A CHANCE AT LOVE
– coming February
2014!

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NOW
... 
are
you ready for some…

BROTHERS
OF ROCK!

A Voice to Love
(Fallen Tuesday Book One) (A Brothers of Rock Novel)

The Brothers of
Rock series continues with Fallen Tuesday!

Lead singer Luke
Nolan's sudden success is everything dreams are made of.  Going
from playing at a local dive bar to touring with mega band
Chasing Cross, seemingly overnight, and ultimately saving the headliner's
tour, has the men of Fallen Tuesday absolutely loving the life
on the road. In fact, Luke is loving it so much that he has used every
excuse to not tell his bandmates about his medical condition that is worsening
with each performance.

In a small
town just outside Syracuse, New York, Amy Deleranne seeks solitude in the
kitchen of Tommy Two's, her uncle Tom's restaurant that should have been hers
by now.  She understands his emotional attachment, but she has poured her
life into its survival and has more at stake than anyone knows...

With Luke battling
a skyrocketing career and the medically unknown and Amy terrified to look
over her shoulder at all times, it is no wonder that sparks fly when they meet.
 However, can their hearts, and their careers, survive the secrets they've
been keeping?

(1)

Luke Nolan stared out the
window of the bus as the world flashed by. All around him he heard voices and
conversation, but he didn’t pick up on any actual words. The comfort in the
sound was just that, the sound. He should have been facing the band, talking
and laughing. He should have been taking little sips of whatever whiskey bottle
they had opened. He should have been humming notes to go along with Gray and
Jake’s guitar playing, or perhaps writing the next great Fallen Tuesday hit. To
be surrounded by his band was all Luke could ever ask for, even if he felt he
wasn’t returning the same respect to the guys.

It’s no secret that in the
music business, one hit can make a band yet one hit can also break a band. The
days of just one great song or album felt gone. In are the days of more, more,
more. Everyone wants more. The fans want more. The record company demands more.
The difference comes in patience and understanding.

The Fallen Tuesday fans
had it, the record company didn’t. The record company put out the demand for
another Fallen Tuesday album to be released by summer, which is what they told
Fallen Tuesday’s manager, Frank Harbringer, six months ago when the band got
the call to play a show with mega band, Chasing Cross. Thanks to a little luck,
a lot of fate, and some damn good talent, Fallen Tuesday ended up taking over
the tour Chasing Cross had started. At their last show, Chasing Cross
passed
the torch
to Fallen Tuesday. The record company backed off while they
toured, but that tour had now come close to its end.

That would put Fallen Tuesday
in New York City to record that next album. There had been plenty of music
written between the first major release and now, but practicing and playing became
a different story. Luke blamed himself and nobody else. He’s the lead singer of
the band, and the one who should organize the sessions to gather up all the
music and lyrics and make sense of it.

The bus continued to make
the drive from Buffalo to Syracuse. They had a live radio show interview where
the band would take some calls and then play a couple acoustic songs for fans
to enjoy.

Luke touched his throat
without the rest of the band noticing. He closed his eyes and swallowed. It
hurt. It still hurt from the show the night before, but even if they hadn’t
played in a week, it would still hurt. The pain spread ear to ear and when Luke
exhaled through his mouth he could feel everything was scratchy, like he had
something stuck in his throat, but he didn’t. His doctor warned him several
times months ago to ease up on the touring and to rest his voice. If not, Luke
may need surgery. But with the offer of a major tour for Fallen Tuesday, Luke
had no choice but to stay on the road and endure. He did his best after shows
to keep quiet and relax his throat, but that barely helped anymore. Luke hadn’t
told his band or Frank yet. He knew telling them would make them cancel the
tour. How could he do that?

Luke slowly turned his
head and watched the four guys he’d grown so close to. They were like his
brothers now. Just a group of kids in a small town outside Philadelphia who found
each other, practiced, won a local battle of the bands, and then packed up for
Los Angeles where they signed a deal. It was the epitome of a rockstar dream
for any kid and here they were on a massive tour bus in the middle of winter
with snow falling around them, traveling to their next venue. The money that they
made in the past year was almost too much to handle for Luke. For a kid who
grew up struggling to eat, this was overwhelming. When the band first got to
Los Angeles, they played for food and shelter. They flirted their way into
apartments and dorms for a night of rest. They sang any song, any time,
anywhere for a hot or cold meal. Now with the press of a button Luke could have
anything he wanted. The tour bus was big, warm, and stocked with all the booze
they wanted to enjoy.

How could Luke just give
that up?

He felt like he would be
destroying the dream of his four best friends - Gray, Jake, Trent, and Mack.
Canceling the rest of the tour would hurt the band for a long time. Fans  had
purchased tickets, the record company had financially backed them, and not to
mention that next album. There was no way the record company would stand for
it. The band would support Luke, that much he believed, but outside the band he
wasn’t sure. Then came the thought of Frank and the record company coming up
with an alternative to the situation. Falling Tuesday’s rise to fame was due,
in part, to Luke playing a dual role in both Falling Tuesday and Chasing Cross.
When the drummer for Chasing Cross took an unexpected leave from the band, Luke
stepped in and played drums for the superstars. It was the greatest experience
of Luke’s life, but the double shows ultimately hurt his body and his throat.
It made Luke wonder if there would be someone there to replace him. It seemed
impossible to replace a lead singer, but who says there were thousands of
people out there dying for their moment in the lights. Luke could play any
instrument given to him, so he could still play shows… he would just have to rest
his voice…

Luke closed his eyes and
refused to accept that fate. They only had a handful of dates left on the tour.
Then Luke could rest. He’d talk to his doctor and come up with a plan. Even if
the record company breathed down their necks about music, they could all go
into the studio and write and record the music. The vocals could be added last…

“Hey, Luke!” a voice
yelled.

Luke opened his eyes and
saw Chase ‘Mack’ Mackenzie waving a hand at him.

Luke nodded.

“Are you sleeping?” Mack
asked.

“No,” Luke said.
“Thinking.”

“Thinking about what to
sip on first?” Gray asked as he motioned to a small collection of bottles on
the table where the band sat with a deck of cards, notebooks, and guitars.

“Funny,” Luke said.

“Get the hell over here
and join us,” Mack said. “Wake up, man. We’ve got to get ready for the
interview.”

Luke cautiously stood up
as another shot of pain went from ear to ear. The shows would go on. The tour
would continue. Luke would hide his pain. But one thing was for sure.

The pain was getting
worse.

(2)

Luke stood at the table and
watched an intense game of poker unfolding before his eyes. Gray had already
thrown his cards down, disgusted with his hand. Jake and Trent stared each
other down. It was more serious than a friendly poker game on a tour bus. Guitarist
versus bassist, Luke was always in the middle of their competitions. There were
times when the tension between the two seemed like it would reach a rough
climax, but at the end of the day, they loved the music. They worked together
to create the sound that was Fallen Tuesday.

“What are you doing?”
Trent asked Jake.

“Going to raise,” Jake
said.

“Let’s get it going,
boys,” Mack added.

His deep voice matched
his large size. The biggest and strongest guy in the band, Mack loved two
things - drums and motorcycles. He had the look of a big biker guy, but under
it all, he had a great heart.

Jake raised the pot and
Trent called. Mack did the same.

“Throw down,” Jake said,
nodding to Trent.

“Two pair,” Trent said.

“Two pair,” Jake said.
“King high.”

Jake defeated Trent but
Mack still had to put his hand down. Luke saw how annoyed Trent looked. He
grabbed the open bottle of whiskey and took a drink. Some nights everyone loved
each other and some nights everyone treated each other like arguing brothers.

“Hold yourself,” Mack
said. “Four of a kind right here.”

Mack put the cards down
and sure enough the large pot went to Mack.

The guys used to have to
play with a deck of cards that was missing four cards. Luke still remembered it
- a two of hearts, six of spades, jack of clubs, nine of hearts. They couldn’t
play for money so they played for bottles of beer, slices of pizza, guitar
picks, strings, and during one wild night, they played for an evening with a
woman. Mack won that game and the rest of the band had to listen as he enjoyed
himself.

Now they had money in the
middle of the table. Fives, tens, twenties.

Mack grabbed the money
and began to organize it.

“I love it,” he said.
“You two fools still can’t play poker.”

“Whatever,” Trent said.

“Can I have a drink?”
Jake asked.

Trent took a swig from
the bottle and handed it to Jake. They smiled at each other, a mental peace
offering for the moment. Luke felt a little more relieved, but it certainly
didn’t help with his throat.

“Where’s Frank?” Luke
asked.

“He’s already in
Syracuse,” Gray said. “Took a flight after the show last night to get
everything ready. Heard he had a long call on that flight too.”

“Long call?” Luke asked.
“The flight wasn’t long.”

“Well, maybe he talked
the whole time then.”

“What did he talk about?”
Luke asked.

“What do you think?” Gray
threw back. “The record company wants music. They want an album.”

Luke’s chest tightened.
Of course they were talking about new music. That’s what everyone wanted,
including Luke. He just wanted to make sure he could provide it and somehow do
it without hurting his voice more than it already was.

“They’ll get an album,”
Luke said. “We aren’t going anywhere.”

“It all moves fast,” Jake
said. “I remember waiting a year for an album, right? Now it’s like every
couple months.”

“The power of fans,”
Trent said.

“We should at least
finish one song,” Gray said.

“I agree,” Mack said as
he organized his winnings.

“Me too,” Luke said.
“It’s just… I don’t know…”

The words were on the tip
of his tongue. He wanted to tell him about his throat. How he needed to rest
his voice. How he needed a chance to step away and let his body heal. The rest
of the band looked up at him. They literally looked up at him, because Luke was
the only standing, but they also looked up to Luke for guidance. He had always
been the one who took care of stuff. He organized the songs, wrote the lyrics,
hustled for shows, got Frank to represent them, and was the voice of reason
when the band signed their recording contract. He also made sure nobody pissed
away all their money yet.

“What’s wrong, brother?”
Mack asked. He leaned back and shoved his winnings into his pocket. He rubbed
his scruffy face.

Luke took a step back and
sat down. “I’m thinking about music and writing.”

“That’s supposed to be
the easy part,” Jake said.

“Easy for who?” Gray
asked.

“Well, compared to
everything else in this business,” Jake said.

“He’s right,” Trent said.

“I’m not worried about us
writing music,” Luke said before he laughed. “We’ve got that part covered.”

“Then what’s eating you?”
Mack asked.

If there was one person
in the band that could challenge Luke and dig into him, it was Mack. Not
because Mack was smarter than anyone else but because Mack didn’t care and
wasn’t afraid to call someone out. He had enough scars on his heart to warrant
such an attitude.

“We had so much time to
write our first album,” Luke said. “I mean, we had nothing to lose except time.
That was our motivation. To write and write and write. We were able to play
those songs for years before recording them. They were perfected through
playing for the fans.”

“They’re great songs,”
Mack said.

“Sure they are,” Luke
said. “But they also came from our lives, right? Things we saw and experienced.
What’s going to happen when we go into a studio to write music? It’s the
opposite of what we’ve known.”

“Worried we won’t have
anything to write about?” Trent asked.

Luke looked at the
bassist. There was plenty to write about. Hell, maybe the band could write
about their lead singer hiding an ailment from them, or maybe write a song of
how their lead singer can’t sing anymore after he damaged his vocal chords
beyond rest or surgery.

“We have material,” Jake
said. He grabbed his guitar.

“I know we do,” Luke
said. “I’m just thinking about the sound. If we are forced into a studio, everything
will feel processed.”

“What are you suggesting
then?” Mack asked.

“Maybe we could record
outside the city,” Luke said. “Find somewhere quiet, somewhere where we can
enjoy ourselves more. Maybe we could try to capture that same innocence we
had.”

“We could start right
now,” Jake said. He started to pluck the strings of his guitar.

The sound was hauntingly beautiful.

“He’s right.” Trent stood
and grabbed his bass. He sat down and began to follow along with Jake. Some
bassists walked the root notes of the chords to just give a chunky sound to the
song, which was fine, but that’s not what Trent did. He worked with the song
and against it, giving a richer sound to everything he played. That’s why he
and Jake collaborated so well.

Gray looked at Trent and
smiled. He shot a hand out and wrapped his hand around the neck of his guitar.
He lifted it and began to strum the chords to the notes Jake played. The song
was full of heart. Luke felt his heart racing. He touched his lips and
swallowed. It didn’t hurt that bad to swallow, but there was some pain.

Mack slapped his strong
hands to the table.

“Let’s do it then,” he
said.

He started to play a
drumbeat on the table. Mack had a way to create music anywhere. Gently tapping
when needed, hitting harder when necessary, it was amazing to watch from Luke’s
perspective. The band played and Jake began to add more riffs to the song.

Mack looked at Luke and
said, “Come on, man. Sing with us. Grab your notebook and find the words.”

“I…”

“We’re just jamming,”
Trent said. “We need the warm up for the radio interview and show.”

Luke stood and forced
himself to smile. He walked away to the back of the bus. He grabbed his bag off
his bed and found his main lyrics notebook. There were dozens of ideas and
concepts in the book, not to mention hundreds of lines of lyrics. As he had
said, the music, the lyrics, and the writing weren’t the problem. Hell, even
going into a studio to write and record an album wasn’t the problem either. The
problem was Luke.

Luke tapped the book on
his bag and then walked to the front of the bus to join his band. He would have
to sing soon for the radio interview. The bus was supposed to pull into the
station by five so the band could meet with Frank and prepare. They were set to
go on air for five-thirty and then play from six to six-thirty.

“Shit,” Luke whispered as
she sat back down.

The band continued to play,
calling out to each other. Jake tried bend a few notes and they were brutal and
sour.

“Scratch that,” he called
out. “Gray, strum three times on each chord. Maybe that could be the intro
sound.”

Gray nodded and did as
suggested. The sound was perfect. That would be the intro for whatever song
they were writing right then. The by Jake carried the emotion.

When it all kicked back
in, it was time for Luke to throw some vocals out there. Singing was never hard
for Luke, it was about getting the right words to flow with the music the band
was playing.

“Come on!” Mack cried out
again.

Luke nodded. He opened to
a page and began to read some lyrics.

…everything she said…

Luke moved his lips but
didn’t allow his voice to carry through. He read four lines over and over. In
his head they all made sense. In his head he could hear the sound of his voice
against the music. It sounded great. Now he needed to bring it to life.

After taking a few
breaths, Luke started to add his voice. It sounded very rough. He made it
through one line of lyrics and then stopped and swallowed. He tried again and
his voice was a little scratchy and not loud enough at all. Luke could easily
belt lyrics over any instruments. The power of Luke’s voice is what made Fallen
Tuesday so popular. He could drop the mic and call out to twenty thousand
people and they’d all hear it.

Luke made it through the
same line of lyrics and stopped again. He met eyes with Mack who looked
concerned. Luke changed his attention to the notebook in his hands.

I can’t do this, he
thought. I can’t do it…

Luke closed his eyes and
collected himself. This was just mental over physical. That’s all. He had been
thinking about it way too much and that’s why his voice felt so rough and off.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ve
got it.”

He opened his eyes and
his mouth, ready to sing his heart out.

Then there was a loud
popping sound, followed by a thud, and then the screech of tires. Before Luke
could do anything, he felt himself moving forward. The rest of the band
followed, the song stopped, and all Luke could think was one thought…

We’re going to die…

**

Amy Deleranne stood with
her hands on her lower back trying to stretch a little. The relief from her
back pain was mild, but it was enough to get her through the rest of her shift.
She had been at the restaurant since eight in the morning, sitting in on two
important meetings, discussing new menu options, next month’s specials, and
then helping with the order for the following week. It was all part of the
responsibilities of being the head chef at one of the most popular restaurants
in Syracuse. She was hired at the restaurant at the age of sixteen to washing
dishes for a small summer paycheck. Her Uncle Tom owned the restaurant and had
always dreamed of someday handing the keys to Amy. Three years ago, when Uncle
Tom suffered a heart attack, he tried to step away, but just couldn’t do it. It
caused a small rift in the family, but Amy didn’t mind at all. As far as she
was concerned, she had her dream job. She got to run the kitchen and cook food
for people. It was the only place she ever worked with the exception of helping
at an ice cream parlor one summer during her first year of college.

Tommy Two’s had started
out as a small stand when Amy’s Uncle Tom wanted to have his own business. He
started with burgers and dogs and cooked and cooked and cooked until the smell
of the food coaxed people to see what smelled so good. Uncle Tom gave food away
until people started giving him money, telling him they wanted him to succeed.
He was only twenty-five when he started his business and it grew from day one.
He built the small stand into a medium size restaurant for people to enjoy a
quick burger and shake. But it kept growing. And growing. Now Tommy Two’s was a
full scale restaurant, serving everything from his famous dogs to lobster tail
brought in from Maine. Uncle Tom was featured in business magazines, restaurant
magazines, and even had a reality show visit two years ago. The host followed
Uncle Tom around, asked questions, ate food, and gave it two thumbs up.

Amy considered herself
lucky to not only be part of the restaurant, but lucky that Uncle Tom was
willing to listen to her ideas and give her some free reign about the place. He
was avoiding retirement because he said
it was the fastest way to the grave.
He didn’t care about the money. The sad truth was that the restaurant was all
Uncle Tom had. His wife, Bernadette, died long before Amy was even born. They
had been high school sweethearts, who married a week after graduating high
school, and, side by side, built the restaurant. She died of a brain tumor in
her early twenties. Uncle Tom never remarried nor had a girlfriend. It also
meant he never had any children, thus the reason all his love and focus went to
his niece, Amy.

After looking at the
clock on the office wall, Amy looked to the kitchen. Everything was a well
oiled machine, although it had taken a couple years to get it to this point.
There was a lot hiring and firing that Amy had done. There were tense moments
and plenty of tears as she had made tough decisions to let some people go that
she wished she could help. Some people were best off finding a way to help
themselves.