Not So Much Love For Fall

I used to love fall. But the riot of color in the trees no longer brings me the same pleasure it did just two years ago.

I have no desire to pull my sweaters out of hibernation; no excitement over wearing my multitude of boots (and I own some super cute boots). The cooler days only mean longer nights and less sunshine, and the darkness gives me far too much excuse to feel sorry for myself. It’s the perfect shroud for the tears I prefer to hide from the world.

You see, fall is a season full of memories, memories I haven’t yet figured out how to live with. My son didn’t die in the fall; he died in the spring, but everything about this time of year reminds me of him, of what I lost, of moments I’ll never get to experience again.

He should have started his freshman year this month. I should have a high schooler. Instead, I have one kid starting school, seventh grade, which happens to be the year my son let the demons win. It’s like living that year all over again, except accompanied by the nightmare of what happened and the constant fear that my daughter might do the same thing.

(For the record, she tells us all the time she won’t, which is both a relief and not remotely fair to the poor kid. She’ll never be able to have a ‘normal’ teen angst period, but I have no idea how not to stress over every little nuance in her personality, which occasionally resembles her brother’s.)

Sometimes I wonder what he would have been like. If he had not made such a permanent decision eighteen months ago, would he have gotten over his depression, his misery, conquered the demons who convinced him to take his own life? My husband doesn’t think so. He believes had our son lived, he would have been fighting those demons for the rest of his life.

But at least he’d have a life. And I’d have a son. And humans are fighters, usually. Maybe he would have found some semblance of peace, would have started high school with a fresh, positive outlook.

I’ll never know.

His birthday is next month. He should be turning fifteen. Ready to sign up for driver’s ed. It’s so odd; I spend an inordinate amount of time reflecting on what will never be, yet I can’t bring myself to relive memories of his life while he was still here. It hurts too much. Still.

I often wonder if it always will.

Part of me wants to get to that point where I can talk about him, reminisce, smile and laugh over moments that occurred during the precious little time we had with him. That’s thirteen years of my life that I currently can’t even think about, let alone talk about.

And the other part of me hates the pain, hates crying, hates feeling sorry for myself, hates admitting that I will never have another memory with my son.

After his birthday comes Thanksgiving. A family holiday. The start of the family holiday season. A time of reflection, of appreciation for what we have, of feeling grateful for our family. Which is hard to do when there’s one missing, there will always be one missing. Forever.

Let’s not forget Christmas. ‘Tis the season of opening boxes filled with decorations and ornaments that all have some significance, some emotional purpose. So many that were handmade by my children or personalized with their names or purchased with some aspect of their personalities in mind. Then there’s the stocking with his name on it. The pictures with Santa.

Christmas used to be my favorite holiday. Now I can barely muster excitement; I almost want it to hurry up and go away, move on. Which I hate because that isn’t fair to the one child I have left, or the rest of my family for that matter.

So, like I did my first year trying to figure out the way down this fork in the road created by my son’s decision to leave us forever, I will try to find bits of happiness and joy, hopefully new experiences, new traditions that won’t hurt quite so much.

That’s all any of us can do: Try.

Tami Lund Headshot 2014

Tami Lund sometimes writes reflective, depressing blogs, but the books she writes are anything but. You should sign up for her newsletter, so you get first dibs on the cool new stuff she puts out: http://www.subscribepage.com/Tami_Lund

**WRECK COVER REVEAL**

It’s a COVER REVEAL! I’m so excited and thrilled and honored to show off this cover. It’s the second in the DirtSlap Series. I read the first, FUEL, and gave it five stars. My review is here, if you’re interested. I highly recommend it, and I have no doubt WRECK will be just as good, if not better, than FUEL.

And yes, I recognize that it’s Appetizing April and I can’t break my own rules. The Dirtslap Series centers around a band named Dirtslap who play in a bar in Nashville called Boozy’s. Boozy’s plays the best music in town, has cute, feisty waitresses, a badass bartender, and your basic, perfect-for-a-Friday-night-out bar food.

See? Food related. Now, let’s have a look at that cover:

WRECK

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Release date May 7th!

 

WRECK

DirtSlap Series #2

 

Will butterflies be his salvation?

Ethan Tackett is a nightmare. Big as life and in your face, he makes no apologies for who he is…an orphan who grew up fighting for survival. He ends up in Nashville, the lead singer of DirtSlap—a band of misfits much like himself. He owns the stage, unleashing his demons and pain into every lyric. But when alone, the horrors of his past haunt him. Peace eludes him, until a chance taste of perfect lips.

Shelby Renner’s life is a farce. None of it real and none of it her choosing. She escapes Houston’s high society to take care of her deceased grandmother’s home in Nashville and discovers a whole other world…including Ethan. His bold tattoos and lip ring fascinate her. His dimples lure her in. Nothing feels more honest and alive than his black gaze on hers.

But the past closes in, threatening their fragile bond. Can two damaged souls dig through the wreckage to find a life together?

Amazon Pre-order link

Ashlynn Pearce Pic

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Ashlynn Pearce

Were it not for Hope, the Heart would Break…

Once upon a time…You ain’t gonna believe this sh**!

(I always wanted to start a bio like that!) But seriously—scrap that, I’m not serious, but I do love to write. Create characters. Give them hope that there is something better around the corner. It’s my passion. I live and breathe stories. When I’m not arguing with the characters in my head (yes, I do that, you can ask my hubby who thinks I’m nuts btw), I’m taking care of said hubby, my two kids and a melee of furbabies. I’m Okie born and bred and, yes, we get a lot of twisters and, no, there aren’t any teepees around that I’ve seen. Follow me around to see what other mischief I’m up to!

www.AshlynnPearce.com

 

FB: https://www.facebook.com/ashlynnpearcewriter

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Ashlynn_Pearce

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3512149.Ashlynn_Pearce

Amazon Author page: http://www.amazon.com/Ashlynn-Pearce/e/B008F9J94G

 

Fuel Book Cover

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Haven’t read the first in the series?

FUEL DirtSlap #1 – out now!

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/FUEL-DirtSlap-Book-Ashlynn-Pearce-ebook/dp/B00QYAPUDC/ref=asap_B008F9J94G?ie=UTF8

Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/fuel-ashlynn-pearce/1120913527?ean=2940151682206

KOBO: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/fuel-6

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id951159485

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Meet Thrand from Ashlynn Pearce’s New Release, FUEL

I was given the privilege of reading Fuel, the latest fun and sexy release by Ashlynn Pearce, and the first in the Dirtslap series. This is a five-star read. But don’t assume I know what I’m talking about. Take a look at this interview with Thrand. He’s a drummer, living in Nashville, initially trying to make a living as a studio drummer, until a friend suggests he should start his own band. That band is called Dirtslap, and they’re freaking amazing. A little country, a little rock, a lot sexy.

Fuel is Thrand and Cassie’s story, and Ashlynn Pearce, the author, managed to catch him during a brief moment of downtime – with the entire band, I might add – and she shared the interview with me. I am, in turn, sharing it with you, because we all deserve to read about a sexy drummer and his obsession with a spirited girl from his past. Take it away, Ashlynn…

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I’d interviewed Cassie a few weeks ago, so now I thought it might be Thrand’s turn. He said I could meet him at his place, because they were going to have band practice.

I’d learned my lesson from Cassie and wasn’t wearing slacks. I’d opted for shorts and a casual top—and since I was in Nashville, short cowboy boots.

I pulled up to the address. Two trucks and two Harleys are parked in the drive.

Great…the entire band is here. I ring the doorbell, my nerves getting the better of me. Sure, I know these guys, (I created them) but still, I have no idea what to expect.

The door is yanked open and the guy’s warm brown eyes sparkle as he flashes me a cocky grin.

“We got a groupie,” he yells to the guys inside.

 Uh, no. Just here to interview Thrand. You must be Ryan.”

“Thrand? Why the hell would you interview him? You should interview me.” He waggles his eyebrows and opens the door wider so I can step inside.

“Cause you’re a punk,” another guy says. “Don’t make us put you in a corner. And she’s interviewing me cause I started this band. Not you.”

 Ryan is cute but Thrand captures my attention. Tall, maybe 6 foot, with intense gray-blue eyes. The short hair, clipped close to his head, and barely there scruff. He’s wearing a tank that exposes the tattooed sleeve on his left arm. Wide shoulders with a clear definition of muscle in his arms, he makes my mouth a little dry. Or maybe wet. “Actually, I’m interviewing you for your story. Not really because of the band. And sorry if I’m late.”

“You’re not late. They’re early. And for my story, huh?” He rubs the back of his neck, looking slightly uncomfortable.

I can’t seem to not stare at the way he moves. Smooth and fluid, it’s a tad nerve-wracking. Then I catch a glimpse of the insanely tall guy leaning against the bar and I lose all track of thought. Looking like he belongs on a metal stage, he wears all black, with a lip ring, gauges, and sports black mussed up spiky hair. He smirks when he catches me staring and I about swallow my tongue when I spot dimples.

“Yeah, I’m Ethan.”

 It’s all his says but that Georgian drawl sends my mind spiraling into the gutter. Or up to heaven. I’m not really sure.

“So what do you want to know?” Thrand asks as he walks over and sits on his drum stool and adjusts a few things.

 It forces my attention back to the task at hand. Except then I notice a guy hunched over a bass, with hair hanging in his face. He doesn’t even look at me. That must be Zak. I clear my throat and focus on Thrand, who’s looking at me expectantly. “Sorry, I didn’t know everyone would be here. So I guess I’ll ask you what I asked Cassie.”

“You interviewed Cas?” His brows draw together and he frowns.

“Yes, I did. She didn’t really have patience for the interview.”

He chuckles. “Cause she doesn’t have any at all.”

“No. She didn’t seem to. First question, what is your idea of perfect happiness?”

Ryan snorts and gyrates his hips as he calls out, “A happy ending. It’s what all guys want.”

Ethan cuffs him on the back of the head. “I don’t think that’s what she meant.”

Heat creeps up my neck as I try to ignore Ryan’s crude remark.

Thrand glares at Ryan then says, “I’d say getting out of Oklahoma. Everything after that is gravy.”

I scribble it down, thinking Cassie said about the same thing. “Your greatest fear?”

The room is eerily quiet and it seems the entire band want to know the answer to that one. Thrand is obviously thinking about it as he leans forward, elbows on his knees.

“Never being able to make music again.” His words are measured, his eyes hooded.

I get the impression he’s not being totally honest here. And Cassie said something similar, except her answer had to do with taking pictures. “What quality do you like best in a woman?”

“Big tits,” Ryan says and jumps up, prancing around the room and acting like he’s cupping boobs.

 I can’t help but laugh as I turn back to Thrand who is just shaking his head with an exasperated look on his face.

“You know there is more in life than tits and beer, right?”

Ryan looks shocked then rolls his eyes.

“One day a girl is going to come along and knock you right on your ass,” Thrand states.

“Naw. Watching it happen to you has been scary enough.”

“He has a point,” Ethan says. “That girl has you running in circles.”

Thrand’s jaw works. “There’s nothing going on there. She’s just a friend.”

“Sure. I’ll believe that when you convince me Santa is real,” Ryan takes a swig of his beer as he falls onto the couch.

I don’t have to ask about who they are talking about. I met Cassie. She’s a whirlwind. 

“You have any other questions?” Thrand asks me and twirls a drumstick in his hand.

“Last one. What do you regard as the lowest depths of misery?”

He instantly pales and his eyes darken. “Lady, that’s a real damn personal question and we have band practice.” 

With that, I’m ushered out the door without a chance to say anything else. I walk slowly to my car as I hear the bang and crash of drums and the riffs of guitar. I’m thinking that didn’t go well at all and I’d wished they’d would have let me stay and watch DirtSlap in action.

~~~

Want more?

FUEL… DirtSlap series

Fuel PromoNook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/fuel-ashlynn-pearce/1120913527?ean=2940151682206

Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/FUEL-DirtSlap-Book-Ashlynn-Pearce-ebook/dp/B00QYAPUDC/ref=asap_B008F9J94G?ie=UTF8

KOBO: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/fuel-6

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id951159485

 WRECK – out May 2015

Want to know more about the awesome author who wrote Fuel, and provided the above interview? Read on…

Ashlynn Pearce Pic

Once upon a time…You ain’t gonna believe this sh**!

(I always wanted to start a bio like that!) But seriously–scrap that, I’m not serious, but I do love to write. Create characters. Give them hope that there is something better around the corner. It’s my passion. I live and breathe stories. When I’m not arguing with the characters in my head (yes, I do that, you can ask my hubby who thinks I’m nuts btw), I’m taking care of said hubby, my two kids and a melee of furbabies. I’m Okie born and bred and, yes, we get a lot of twisters and, no, there aren’t any teepees around that I’ve seen.

Stop by my website and follow me around to see what I’m up to next!

DirtSlap is coming…ya’ll ready to get a lil dirty, right? 😉

www.AshlynnPearce.com 

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ashlynnpearcewriter 
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Ashlynn_Pearce

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3512149.Ashlynn_Pearce

Amazon Author page: amazon.com/author/ashlynnpearce

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