From the desk of Lee Ann Sontheimer
Murphy
“This
book is for anyone who has experienced that intense first love and still holds
a small piece of it in their heart….This story is about "going home"
and finding yourself again….. This was a heartwarming love story, and I will
definitely read more by this author.”
Urban Renewal review
from Amazon.com
Somehow Memorial Day – and the three day
holiday weekend attached to the observance – has become the unofficial kick off
for the summer season in the US. The ads
in my Sunday paper yesterday were chock full of barbecue grills and patio
furniture, swimwear and picnic goods, swimming pools and movie stars. Oh, wait.
Swimming pools, yes. Movie stars,
no. The movie star connection comes from
my March release from Champagne Books, Urban
Renewal. It’s earning some rave
reviews and selling copies at all the major online retail sites. Since it has a scene centered around Memorial
Day, I thought I’d focus on it the first part of this week and share the
scene. I’ll also add a shorter snippet
with some heat between Marie and Joe just for fun!
Here’s the cover and the blurb:
Movie star Mercedes Montague has it all – the fame, the
fortune, and the glittering celebrity lifestyle. But she lost herself somewhere along the way.
On a publicity tour for her next movie she realizes she’s just fifty miles from
her hometown. Mercedes – real name Marie
Dillard – decides to bolt and go home to see if she can find what’s left of
herself. Hiding away in her
grandparents’ old home in a working class neighborhood she’s haunted by
memories and reminders of her first and only love, Joe Shelby.
Marie’s stunned when
Joe shows up at her door. Passion
kindles between them from the first moment their eyes meet but she won’t let it
consume her unless it’s going to include a lasting love. As they renew their
relationship, Marie and Joe face many struggles.
Can a movie star return to reality or is love just a distant
dream?
Memorial
Day themed excerpt:
“I’ll
clean up my mess and get dressed.”
So,
the star of the new movie, Tempest,
filled up the old deep sink with water and did the dishes. Marie wiped down the
table and stove. She dressed in simple jeans and a comfortable aquamarine
scoop-necked blouse. She brushed back her long hair and left it down although
she secured it with a pair of barrettes. By the time Joe walked out of the
bathroom wearing nothing at all, she’d done her minimal make-up and was ready
to go. Clean shaved, he exuded man energy and she wanted him with a rush of
desire. But Marie could wait, she decided, until after they made their rounds.
Then they would enjoy a leisurely lovemaking session together.
At
the small discount chain up on the north end of St. Joe Avenue, Marie selected
silk wreaths for her grandparents and smaller bouquets for other relatives. Joe
grabbed a couple for his deceased family members and they headed out.
“Where
do you want to go first?”
“Mount
Mora,” Marie said. “That’s where Ma and Pop are buried.”
“I
remember,” Joe said. So did she. Pop’s funeral on a bitter February day still
hurt to think about but Joe, wearing a heavy old sheepskin style coat, had
never left her side. Marie recalled the ankle deep snow, cold and heavy as it
seeped into her shoes. Joe carried her back to the funeral home limo, something
she would never forget. When she came home to lay Ma to rest, on a beautiful
autumn day with yellow leaves drifting down from the maple tree nearby, she
looked for Joe but of course he hadn’t come. He would have still been in the
Army, then.
At
the old cemetery he entered through the gates and wound past Mausoleum Row
where some of the city’s earliest rich folks took their eternal rest. Joe
parked near where her grandparents were buried, about three rows up from the
road beneath a pair of huge cedar trees. She placed the red and white wreath on
Ma’s side of the double upright marker and Joe helped set the festive yellow
one for Pop. Marie stuck the small American flag she’d bought for her
grandfather into the ground. Then they walked over to where her Uncle Neal
rested. She placed a second flag for him and a bouquet of blue roses.
Although
memories flooded her mind, Marie wasn’t sad, just reflective and when Joe put
his arm around her, she smiled.
“Are
you okay?”
“I’m
fine, Joe. No tears.”
“That’s
good. Where are we headed next?”
“Ashland,
I suppose.” Marie named the other cemetery with a sigh. Most of her mom’s
family rested there and so did her parents. So they drove out to Ashland
Avenue, to another cemetery, this one much larger than Mount Mora. She directed
Joe to her parents’ graves, out in the center of a triangular section separated
from the rest of the cemetery by the drive. Although she didn’t remember her
parents at all since they died when she was not quite one, Marie could recall
when this section was mostly grass. Even as a small child, Marie could recall
their pink granite headstone set apart but now rows of graves surrounded it.
They walked through the grass and she placed two bouquets. The white daisies
and yellow daffodils contrasted against the bright green grass.
“I
wish I’d met them,” Joe remarked.
Marie
smiled. “I just wish I remembered them. I don’t, not at all. I don’t remember
going to live with Ma and Pop either. Ma told me they took care of me while my
mother worked anyway so I guess it didn’t seem so strange to me.”
“What
happened to them anyway?”
“Ma
said they were heading down to Starlight to see a concert but they crashed.
Some eighteen wheelers jackknifed and I guess they couldn’t stop in time to
avoid them. I don’t even know who was driving but I think it happened on I-35.”
“I’m
sorry, Marie.”
“Me,
too, Joe.”
They
walked around and put flowers at her maternal grandparents’ grave, at an aunt’s
she did remember, and a few other ancestors. As they headed back to Joe’s
truck, Marie asked, “Where’s your dad buried, Joe?”
“He’s
out at Memorial Park. I thought we’d head out there next. Most of my folks are
there, except the ones buried up at Fillmore. I go up there every five years or
so but I’m not planning to go today.”
They
headed out to Frederick Avenue and on east to Memorial Park. The pastoral lake
still featured swans, Marie noticed, as they turned into the entrance. None of
her family rested here but she’d been to several funerals. Joe headed around
the curve of the hill to the Garden of the Last Supper. After he came to a stop
and they got out, he led her down a sidewalk dividing the section. Mr. Shelby’s
grave was just a few paces to the left.
“Here’s
Dad,” Joe said as he knelt. Marie watched as he worked a permanent vase out of
the ground and stood it up, ready for use. They put their red silk geraniums
into it, and stepped back. She caught a glimpse of Joe’s face, naked with
grief, and she rubbed his left arm.
“Hey,
sweetheart?”
He
blinked and dashed a few tears out of his eyes. “I’m all right. I still miss
him, though. He’d be glad you’re here with me today.”
“I
hope so.”
Joe
caught her in his arms and held her tight for a long moment. “I know so,” he
said. “Let’s take the last of the flowers to my grandparents’ and get the hell
out of here.”
“Sure,”
Marie said. Curious, she asked, “Where’s Riley’s mom buried?”
“She’s
out here but I don’t take her flowers. It seems pretty hypocritical to me so I
don’t.”
At
his grandparents’ marker, Marie noticed how humid the day seemed. “Isn’t it hot
for May?” she asked Joe.
“Yeah,”
he said. “It is. I think it’ll storm later. I’ve been watching a storm system
on the weather for several days now and it looks like it could be a nasty one.
It’s almost become a tradition around here to get severe weather over Memorial
Day. We could use the rain but I hope we miss out on the storms. Mom wants us
to come over for a cookout Sunday evening so I hope the weather’s good.”
Although
he talked about the weather with calm, quiet anxiety prickled the back of her
neck. A normal thunderstorm was one thing; major severe weather could be
another. California had earthquakes but tornadoes were rare out on the west
coast.
By
the time they headed toward the exit, more people were walking the rows of flat
stones to place their floral tributes. With all the bright blooming colors,
Memorial Park seemed somehow festive, not the somber final resting place for
many. Deep in thought, she didn’t notice which direction Joe took or where he
headed until he pulled into the vast parking lot of the regional medical center
where he worked.
“We
were this close so I thought I’d drive you by,” he explained. “I imagine
Heartland’s grown since you last saw the place.”
“Yes,
it has.” Marie marveled at the increased size of the facility and the larger
number of buildings surrounding the main campus. “Where you do work?”
“The
ER entrance is on the southeast corner. Come on, I’ll show you.”
Curious
to see where he worked, at least an outsiders’ view, Marie nodded. Inside the
huge hospital he led her to the emergency wing. Most of the staff they passed
greeted him and after Joe gave her the basic tour, he walked her down to the
main entrance and back. He pointed out the chapel, the cafeteria, the gift shop,
and more.
“Now
you can come out and spend my break with me sometime,” he said.
Marie
gawked around the place. “I’ll probably lose my way since I’m not familiar with
the place,” she said.
“You
won’t get lost for long.”
Something
wistful in his voice made her believe he really wanted her to come so she
nodded. “All right, I’ll come.”
“Good.”
Now a sexy snippet:
Shifting
shadows cast by the streetlights and passing vehicles danced on the wall of
Marie’s bedroom as Joe undressed her with slow hands. He took his time,
unhurried, and his fingers lingered to caress her skin. Her skin became
ultra-sensitive, responsive to the slightest stroke. Anticipation rippled
across her flesh with delicious delight and a wild sense of intoxication swept
over her. Marie hadn’t had anything to drink but she experienced the same high
rush, drunk on Joe’s physical presence.
She
raked her fingers across his bare back and adored the sound he made, not quite
a grunt or a moan. He retaliated by caressing her breasts and burying his face
against them. She had known his body once and although a few years of wear
showed, it hadn’t changed much as Marie explored it. Her hands followed the
curve of his hip, the cleft between his legs as if she were blind.
Joe
traced the outline of her ribs with one finger, tantalizing and ticklish.
“You’re too damn skinny,” he said as his fingers touched bone just below the
skin. “But you’re sexy as hell anyway.”
“Shut
up and kiss me,” Marie replied, the line an old one from their past. In their earliest
attraction period, Joe teased her unmercifully and she would often snap at him,
“Shut up,” but she never wanted him to quit. He hadn’t.
“Your
wish is my command, movie star princess,” Joe told her, laughter in his voice.
From
the moment his mouth touched hers, she burned with fire. His hot lips melted
her body into pliant wax, his to do whatever he wished. Joe kissed her with the
same slow nonchalance, no hurry, and his indolence drove her wild. The more she
ached for release, the harder Marie coveted wildness, the slower Joe became and
the more deliberate.
Buy Links:
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/urban-renewal-lee-ann-sontheimer-murphy/1114919473?ean=9781771550123
My links:
MY LINKS
Twitter:
leeannwriter
From
Sweet to Heat: The Romance of Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy
Blog:
Rebel Writer: Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy
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