Wednesday, May 18, 2016
Top 10 Songs for San Francisco - The Devil's Disease by L.J.K. Oliva
I'm a music nerd.
I have playlists for pretty much everything- moods, seasons, activities, driving, writing. I also have playlists for places, including my all-time favorite place, San Francisco.
If you've read any of my Shades Below novels, you're already familiar with my love affair with the City of Love. I'd like to share a few songs that capture what I feel when I'm driving through it, windows down, the spicy scent of the Bay in my nostrils, watching the last tendrils of fog recede back over the Pacific.
After all, ain't no dreaming like California dreaming...
1. In San Francisco- The Welcome Matt
2. Save Me, San Francisco- Train
3. California Soul- Marlena Shaw
4. California Love (Original Mix)- 2Pac
5. San Francisco Anthem- San Quinn
6. West Coast- MISSIO
7. Sweater Weather- The Neighbourhood
8. California Sunrise- Dirty Gold
9. I Left My Heart In San Francisco- Julie London
10. Lights- Journey
Genre: urban fantasy
Date of Publication: March 31, 2016
Word Count: 93,338
Cover Artist: Amy Mateyka
In the city by the Bay, things are about to get bloody...
Psychic medium Lena Alan always sticks to what she knows, and what she knows are dead people. When her brother Cyrus agrees to look into a troubling incident for local vampire Seneca Lynch, Lena finds herself in unfamiliar territory.
One thing is clear: she needs a detective, and there's only one she trusts.
Private investigator Jesper MacMillian is ready to get back to business. Between his duties as leader of the city's Romani community and the stack of unfinished paperwork on his desk, he doesn't have time to think about ghosts, witches, or Lena Alan. After nearly a month of no contact, he's starting to think she's forgotten about him...until she waltzes through his office door and hands him a new case.
Still reeling from his last encounter with the subversive world, MacMillian is tempted to turn it down. But this is Lena, and he can't bring himself to tell her no. He soon finds himself drawn even deeper into the shadows, into a part of the demimonde where folklore is real and nightmares are born.
This time, there are more than just ghosts walking the streets of San Francisco.
There are monsters, too.
The Wayfare Hotel for Restless Spirits was every bit as spooky as he remembered.
MacMillian wedged his dark green Plymouth Fury into a spot alongside The Panhandle, and stared across the street at the vast old Victorian. Was it him, or had it expanded since he'd last been here? That was impossible, of course. Even so, he could have sworn several of the turrets were new.
Lena waited until he had hoisted himself from the car, then started across the street. MacMillian headed after her with a wince. He should have known better than to sit for so long. Now he was paying for it. Lena glanced behind her. He schooled his face to a neutral expression. Judging by the way her eyebrows drew together, she wasn't fooled.
She didn't mention it, merely metered her steps to match his as though it were the most natural thing in the world. They climbed the steep front steps together, crossed the stoop to the massive front door.
Lena turned to him. "Before we go inside, there's something you should know."
MacMillian shifted his weight to his cane. "All right."
She twisted the strap of her purse. "You're going to meet someone. He's...not like anyone you've seen before."
MacMillian snorted. "Since I've known you, I've met ghosts, witches, a knight, and a librarian for God. So unless you're telling me vampires and werewolves are real too..." He trailed off at the look on her face. "They're not. Are they?"
Lena shifted. "It's a little more complicated than—"
He held up a hand. "Please. Yes or no."
Lena continued hurriedly. "But technically, lycanthropy is a disease. Therians have complete control over their shifts, and are no danger to humans. Anyway, that's not what this is about."
MacMillian felt light-headed. "So, a vampire."
At that moment, the door to the house swung inward. MacMillian jerked his eyes from Lena's face. A tall, athletic-looking man with disheveled blond hair and a sardonic expression leaned against the door frame.
"I find 'vampire' rather a loaded word, don't you?" The man crossed his arms over his broad chest. His black leather jacket creaked. "I prefer the term 'sangretarian.'"
MacMillian looked to Lena.
She cleared her throat. "Jesper MacMillian, meet Seneca Lynch."
About the Author:
L.J.K Oliva is the devil-may-care alter-ego of noir romance novelist Laura Oliva. She likes her whiskey strong, her chocolate dark, and her steak bloody. L.J.K. likes monsters... and knows the darkest ones don't live in closets.
Newsletter Signup- http://eepurl.com/xRJuD