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
Shades Below
Book Two
L.J.K. Oliva
Genre: urban fantasy
Date of Publication: March 31, 2016
Word Count: 93,338
Cover Artist: Amy Mateyka
Book Description:
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.
Excerpt #1
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."
"Well, yes."
MacMillian stared.
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.
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1 comment:
Hey, Wenona! Thanks so much for having me back on your blog. Have a great weekend! :-)
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