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

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 c
losed 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.

&n
bsp; 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…