LITTLE BLUE
Jay Lang
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GENRE: Romantic Suspense
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BLURB:
New
York musician Jude Rossi's world is shattered when his 14-year-old daughter,
Little Blue—a rising star in the music scene—dies unexpectedly at her record
deal party.
Though
the coroner’s report lists “overdose,” Jude knows that his daughter’s disdain
for drugs means there’s something far more sinister at play. With no means to
investigate, he spirals into a dark abyss of grief, turning his back on his
once-thriving music career.
Two
years later, Jude works as a low-paid janitor in a boxing gym. One fateful
night he encounters Mad Madge, a homeless woman claiming she can reconnect him
with his daughter. Desperate and intoxicated, he consumes a strange serum and
is thrust into a nightmarish realm. There, Little Blue’s spirit reveals that a
snake-tattooed man is responsible for her death, igniting a fierce hunger for
vengeance when Jude awakens in a hospital bed.
As
Jude spirals deeper into his obsession, he meets Lauren Banks, an addiction
psychology student who distracts him from his deadly vendetta. With her help,
he begins to reclaim the life he lost, even landing a job at her father's
entertainment law firm. But the haunting messages from spirits pull him back
into the darkness, unraveling a web of truths about music industry execs and
his daughter’s tragic end.
Nothing
will stop Jude from seeking revenge for his little girl. However, he is
unprepared for the lengths some will go to protect their secrets and power.
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Excerpt
Two:
Lauren radiates when she answers the door in a short flowy
cotton dress, bare feet with her toenails painted, and her hair in loose curls
that frame her pretty face. I feel almost boy-like shy while I stand in front
of her, trembling inside and trying my hardest to make eye contact.
Once I’m inside, I kick off my shoes and follow her to a
small but stylish room. As I look around at the furniture and décor, it strikes
me as funny that although her apartment is located in one of the pricier areas
of Manhattan, the furniture and decorations look casual and inexpensive. The
loveseat and matching chair look at least thirty years old, and the small
wooden coffee table has chips and coffee mug stains. There aren’t many pictures
on the walls, other than a few framed collages of people. Near the front
window, a dusty fake plant stands five feet tall in a pot with a huge crack.
There’s a modest-sized flatscreen on the wall in front of the sofa, with an
old-fashioned turntable and records on a short cabinet just off to the side.
She sees me looking and laughs. “I know. The outside of the
building doesn’t really match the inside of my apartment, does it?”
“It’s great. It’s a lot nicer than my place, that’s for
sure.”
“It’s home. Plus, I don’t spend much time here. Mostly I
just come here to sleep and eat, then I’m out the door to work and repeat. Why
don’t you take off your jacket and I’ll give you the grand tour?”
Lauren grabs my jacket from me and tosses it onto the back
of the loveseat. I follow her down a short hallway off the living room, where
the light from two rooms casts a glow on the wooden floor. When we approach the
first doorway she stops. “This is the bathroom, a three-piece with the noisiest
pipes in the world.”
We then move to the last doorway. “This is my bedroom.
Believe it or not, it’s the biggest room in the apartment. Not a great floor
plan for a person who lives alone.”
I step into the room, which features a large, wrought-iron,
four-poster bed. Next to it is a tall mahogany armoire with more scratches and
dents. Beside the armoire is a matching vanity with just as many flaws. “My
bedroom furniture was handed down to me from my mother. I could have
refurbished everything, but I kind of like broken things. They have more
character.”
“Is that why you like
me?”
“No. And for the record, I don’t think you’re broken, crazy,
or a lost cause, regardless how we first met.”
“Yeah, right. Are you forgetting the condition I was in that
day? I was a hot mess.”
She giggles shyly. “Well, regardless of your condition, I
did kinda think you were hot.”
“You’ve got to set
your standards higher, girl.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you, Jude. You’re a grieving
father, and it’s expected that you would have repercussions from that,
emotionally or otherwise.”
“Those are the words of a doctor.”
Lauren shakes her head. “I’m not a doctor. I’m at the bottom
stage of learning. But I do know crazy, and you’re not it.”
“How do you know for sure?” I grin. “Maybe crazy runs in my
family.”
“Well, if that’s the case, I’m in big trouble. Crazy goes
way back on my father’s side, all the way to the mid-1800’s.”
“That’s a long time ago. Are you sure someone in your family
isn’t pulling your leg?”
“This wasn’t the icebreaker I had planned, but now that
we’ve arrived on the subject of crazy, I’ll show you.”
I sit on the edge of her bed and fold my arms, intrigued.
I watch as Lauren goes into her armoire, rummaging around in
a narrow drawer before straightening up, a Ziplock bag of papers in-hand. She
sits next to me and opens the bag, then gently pulls out the folded papers.
Once they’re on the bed, I notice that the three sheets are quite brown, with
the edges torn or crumbled away. “Wow. These look very old.”
Lauren nods. “All the way back to the 1800s.” She slowly
unfolds each of the three pages and lays them between us on the bed. “The print
has faded, but I’ll try to make out the important parts.”
She gently picks up the first piece of paper with an
easy-to-read heading, The New York Ledger.
July 6th– Pittsford Village Tragedy: Marjorie Gamble Banks
Murders Husband, William Banks.
The words underneath
are a lot smaller and less legible.
Lauren clears her throat and squints at the page.
“In the village of Pittsford, on the evening of July 6th,
Marjorie Banks tragically lost her reason and took the life of her husband, the
esteemed William Banks. Armed with a hunting rifle, Mrs. Banks entered the Wine
Without Reason Tavern around 7 p.m., where she found her unarmed husband and
fatally shot him. Patrons of the tavern, familiar with the Banks’s as regular
patrons, were stunned by the cold-blooded act. Following the murder, Mrs. Banks
calmly seated herself at her husband's table, finished his drink, and awaited
the arrival of the sheriff.”
“Wow. That’s wild. And who was this murderess to you?”
“She would be my great, great grandmother on my father’s
side.”
“That’s quite the family connection you have. And after a
hundred and fifty-four years, it’s amazing that you have these newspaper
clippings.”
“Yeah. I know. They were passed down to me from my grandma,
who I was very close with. They probably belong in a museum, but I just haven’t
been able to part with them.”
“I get it. If I had something as cool as these, I wouldn’t
want to give them up either.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Review: One father, a former rock
musician, can’t seem to cope with the death of his only daughter—his Little
Blue. The person that gave her the drugs and caused her death was still free.
It was murder and Jude was determined to find her killer.
Words that were lovely and
graceful capture the reader’s attention. The sentiment is poetic and deep, and
the premise was definitely intriguing.
One day, someone makes it possible
for Jude to see his dead daughter in a realm called the in-between. It was this
poisonous vial that allowed him to see her, but was it real or just a
hallucination of the drug?
In this story, we follow Jude’s
pondering journey as he struggles to figure out what’s real and what’s not.
Meanwhile, Jude still seeks out his daughter’s killer. Jude seems to thing that
a famous rock star was responsible for drugging his daughter and the music
executives hid it.
I liked the connection that Jude
was able to make with Lauren. Throughout the whole book, Jude is caught between
euphoria over his friendship with Lauren and bitter anger over the rock star.
What was the real truth in all this?
The murder and seeking justice
were compelling aspects of the story. It would seem the loss of a child, no
matter what form, debilitates most parents, and they would do anything to see
their child again.
This was a nice read overall with
the exception of the few typos you run into. Towards the end, we get some
surprising secrets revealed. The ending was unexpected and satisfying.
A good ghost story!
Rating:
5 stars
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Jay Lang grew up on the ocean, splitting her time between Read
Island and Vancouver Island before moving to Vancouver to work as a TV, film
and commercial actress. Eventually she left the industry for a quieter life on
a live-a-board boat, where she worked as a clothing designer for rock bands.
Five years later she moved to Abbotsford to attend university. There, she fell
in love with creative writing. Little
Blue is her twelfth novel published by BWL Publishing Inc. Jay spends her days hiking and drawing
inspiration for her writing from nature.
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GIVEAWAY
Jay
Lang will be awarding a $15 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner.
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