So you’ve been meaning to pick up the first two Demo Tapes books for your Kindle. But… well, other books have intruded on your search, and it was hard to resist.

I know. I have similar problems. I’m not here to fault you.

Instead, I’m here to tell you that Amazon’s decided to drop the price on Demo Tapes (Year 1) and Demo Tapes (Year 2) to 99c. Each.

Now’s the time. If you have friends who love Rock Fiction, if you have friends who used to watch music videos on MTV, if you have friends who still lust for men with long hair… why not gift ’em a book or two?

Really, guys. It doesn’t get any better than this. And with King Trevor set to be released on April 12, there’s no better time to join the Trevolution.

Is there?

Didn’t think so.

WAIT.

Are you a print lover???

Demo Tapes (Year 1), Demo Tapes (Year 2), AND Demo Tapes (Year 3) are STILL part of Amazon’s 4-for-3 promo. Maybe you’ve seen me Tweet about it. Maybe not.

At any rate, here’s the deal. You can buy all three Demo Tapes short story anthologies and spend MORE time with Trevor, Mitchell, and the gang. $29.97 for all three. AND then you can surf around and find something for FREE. (Sorry, but Trevor’s Song isn’t part of the promo. Bummer, huh?)

Like I said: King Trevor. April 12, 2012.

Join the Trevolution NOW.

(Demo Tapes — Year 1 in print)
(Demo Tapes — Year 2 in print)
(Demo Tapes — Year 3 in print)

How did we miss this one? I almost did, and that’d be a shame. I particularly like this guest blog post: it’s over at The Adolescent Muse. Yes, me, your favorite Rock Fiction writer and expert. Hangin’ at a joint with Adolescent in the title.

It’s all good. Trevor doesn’t make a single appearance to scare anyone off.

Instead, I’m talking about blog serials. How they’ve changed since I began blogging way back when in April of 2006, and what a good thing those changes are.

I even give some props to a good friend of ours here at West of Mars, so stop in and check it out.

I’m over at the #amwriting site today, with some Flash Fiction I wrote earlier in the week.

It’s Mitchell. It’s Daniel.

And it’s a hot dog.

I’ll leave you with a wink and see you over at Amwriting.

**If that link doesn’t work, let me know and check back later for one that does! I like this story and don’t want you to miss it.

I’ll admit it. The more I’ve seen of Dee Snider of late, the more I am intrigued by the guy. First hearing he’d be on Broadway in Rock of Ages. Then watching old footage of him talking about the PMRC hearings back in the 80s. And most recently, watching him on Celebrity Wife Swap.

Yep, I watched it. Got a problem with that?

There was something really sweet about a man who takes his borrowed wife out on a date. I will carry that envy with me to eternity.

All this means, of course, that when news came out the other day about his new autobiography, Shut up and Give Me the Mic, I drooled. If I can’t be friends with the man (at least as how he’s presented himself of late) and his wife, who is tough-as-shit and who can be my mentor any day, then the next best thing is a book. Right?

Riiiiiiight.

Like me having chaos and insanity is anything new?

Come join me at Chaos and Insanity, the home blog of my Pink Snowbunnies in Hell co-contributor, Coral Moore. I’ve done an interview there and I suspect there are some tidbits of information about me that you just don’t know about yet…

News broke last Thursday about this one: the original four MTV VJs — yes, from the days when the M in MTV stood for music — have signed a book deal. Here’s from what I guess is the press release, as quoted in GalleyCat:

“Among the highlights will be the vjs’ never-before-told stories about getting, doing, and ultimately leaving the most coveted job of the decade; the truth behind Roger Daltrey’s demands to visit MTV; days and nights spent partying with Van Halen; the ‘Paint the Mutha Pink’ contest with John Cougar Mellencamp that went toxic; joining the mile high club while flying to see the band Asia play at the Budokan in Japan; and all true tales of hair styles gone horribly wrong as a new kind of broadcast medium was being created hour by hour and day by day — all perfectly set against the era when you would still call into your answering machine from a pay phone.”

I remember those early days of MTV. I remember the video revolution. I remember being at CMJ and hearing reps for Slayer say they were making a video, and I remember how the entire room shook at that news. Hell, I remember the furor over the groundbreaking “One.”

So, yeah. It was, in part, the Original Four who set me on my musical path. Who made me want to work behind the scenes and be part of what made the magic come true.

You’d better believe I’ll be getting my hands on this one.

The Three Word Wednesday prompt this week seemed dark: brutal, sullen, trust. Or maybe despite the fact that things feel like they’re in an upswing (may it last!), there’s still a lot of darkness I’m facing.

Regardless, this piece bothers me because it’s teetering on the edge of cliche and I’m not quite sure how to pull it back. While I think, read and leave me a comment. I love comments, and there’s no telling what you may say that’ll show me what I’m seeking.

It was scenes like this, brutal, ugly, and oh-so-honest, that tore me apart. The ones where we bared our souls to each other and somehow, despite everything, came out okay, our trust intact, our relationship more solid than ever.

But, oh, how it hurt while we were doing it. We cried, our hands occasionally touching as we would pull tissue after tissue out of the box. Our noses honked, we sniffed like there wasn’t going to be a tomorrow, and the tissues made a rose garden of sorts on the bed around us. Who needed rose petals when there was white, unscented goodness all crumpled up and mixed so perfectly with our snot?

Yes, we’d make love after the tears stopped, the sullen looks started to be replaced by cautious smiles, and those glancing touches turned into a fresh exploration of each other’s bodies, fingertips buzzing with excitement at the feel of each other’s flesh.

It was an ideal. I don’t know if he knew it, but I sure did. It couldn’t last, no matter how hard I hoped that it would. I even prayed, but I guess my prayers fell on deaf ears. Don’t they always?

“I’ve heard this a million times already,” he said. Even that phrase was a million-times uttered.

“If you’d listen,” I said as quietly and calmly as I could, “not just hear, we’d be able to get past it.”

You’d think I’d slapped him. His jaw went slack, his eyes flung open, and he turned red in the face.

And then he did what he’d never done. He turned away, turned his back on me. He bowed his head and stayed silent for a long time. Too long; while he was like that, I sat, a tissue crumpled in my fist, my eyes fixed on the piece of white that stuck out the back of my fist like it was a paper towel in one of those dispensers that throttles the paper towel and you have to yank it to one side to get it free, and then you have to, while your hands leave wet spots all over it, unwrap it. All before you can use it.

“Yeah,” he said and I let the rest of my breath out. I’d been holding as much of it as I could without passing out or turning purple, neither of which would let me see what was about to happen. “But hearing you makes me ache for you.”

“I ache, too,” I said, still quiet, still staring at my tissue. “I wish it would stop.”

He smiled, a rueful one. “I can understand that. How…” He took a deep breath. “How do we make that happen?”

I shook my head and opened my fist. The tissue, wet with my sweat, stuck to my skin. I peeled the tissue away, then rubbed at the stubborn stuff.

He took my hand and, with his thumb, gently rubbed the dredges of tissue away. I watched his thumb go up and down, back and forth over my palm. “Casey,” he said, “we can do this. Get through this. Whatever it is.”

“You know what it is,” I said.

“I think I know what it is,” he said. “But if we get too close to it, it might change and turn into something else.”

I swallowed hard, hearing the truth. I hadn’t wanted to go here, hadn’t wanted any of this to come out. In all our time together, I’d only held this one thing back from him, afraid it was too big, too ugly. What we had was too special for me to let this in. Once it was there, it would ruin us, ruin these nights when we could talk it out and trust each other ever deeper.

It was the beginning of the end. “Are you sure?” I asked him. “What if it’s something horrible. Like… I had a baby before we met, who died. Or I’m not who you think I am.”

“No one’s who we think they are,” he said with a medium-sized smile. “That’s why you and I have these talks. To learn who each other is.”

I wanted to point out we’d been together eight years. Two people who tried could get to know each other pretty well in eight years. But I was afraid that if I said anything about how long we’d been together, he would accuse me – rightly! – of having held back for eight years. Of giving this monster time to grow until it was what it had become, poised and ready to destroy what we had.

I shook my head.

He put his index finger under my chin and lifted. I tried not to meet his eyes, but he moved his head around, his smile getting bigger with each of my dodges. “There you are,” he said when I let my gaze meet his at last. His confidence tore me apart. “I don’t care if you murdered that little girl,” he said. “We’ve come this far. We’ll get the rest of the way.”

“What if the rest of the way comes to an end tomorrow?”

“Then we did it together.”

I knew. Right then, I knew. I’d have to tell him. I’d have to find a doctor, a therapist, who would listen and get it. And then I’d have to bring him in and, while the doctor watched and kept me from chickening out, I’d have to tell him.

It would kill him.

But it might also salvage what we had.

It’s always great to hook up with another Rock Fiction writer. You guys know how I’m trying to gather us all here at West of Mars (or, alternatively, the West of Mars Fans page on Facebook if that’s more your style).

My latest hookup was with Deborah J Ledford. We’d met before but never gotten much off the ground. Hopefully, this second connection will lead us to a great, exciting new friendship full of Rock Fiction and other great reads.

Deborah released her latest work of Rock Fiction a year ago, but who’s keeping an eye on a calendar? A new-to-you read is whenever you come across it, not when it’s published. To help make this new-to-you read more memorable, here’s the song that makes Deborah think of her book:

“Who Loves You” by Alannah Myles best represents SNARE on several levels. Native American rock star Katina Salvo’s mother was murdered long before she could experience her daughter’s success. Katina had often called out to her mother’s spirit, but until only recently—when faced with impending danger—has felt her presence. One of warning and caution, but most importantly, love.

Ooh, there’s a lot going on here, huh? Check out the song, and check out the book!

SNARE – The Hillerman Sky Award Finalist

One rock star sensation. Two men from her past want her dead. Three others will risk everything to keep her safe. Who will be caught in a trap? SNARE – Revenge with a beat.

Native American pop singer/songwriter Katina Salvo’s career is about to take off. There’s one problem: someone wants to kill her. Katina and her bodyguard, Deputy Steven Hawk, are attacked during an altercation at her first live concert. Could the assailant be a mysterious, dangerous man from her youth? Or her estranged father recently released from prison for killing her mother?

Buy Links:

Amazon Print Book

Amazon Kindle

NOOK

Author’s Website: www.DeborahJLedford.com

I’m over at Thea Atkinson’s blog today, talking about how my background in the music business helps me create characters.

Stop in and see what’s up.

I’ve done these posts in the past, and you guys seem to really like them. I’ve even discovered New York Times best-selling authors checking them out. (There are also more than the three I’ve linked to, but feel free to explore the archives and find those on your own!)

In 2011, I read 84 books. Not a bad amount, but still significantly down from the 144 I was turning in back in ’05 and ’06. You know: before I started putting books out and finding that my reading time was swallowed whole by the need to market myself.

Of those 84, there were only 12 that I didn’t finish, which is a pretty good percentage for me.

So. Let’s talk about some of those 72 that I thought WERE good enough to not only finish, but talk about. (As always, the links will take you either to Powells, where I’m an affiliate, or to Smashwords, where I can also pick up a few pennies in affiliate money. Those pennies add up! Click!)

I started the year off with a bang, with Greg Iles, who is fast becoming a favorite author of mine. I’ve only read a few of his books, but The Devil’s Punchbowl was the latest. I’m loving this man’s fiction and can’t wait to clear off some of the TBR mountains so I can add more of Iles’ work to it.

The always pleasant Aunt Dimity was a return visitor this year. It was great to finally read the series kick-off. I was overdue!

Other series I spent time revisiting: JR Ward’s Black Dagger Brotherhood (Lover Eternal), Rachel Vincent’s shifter series (Pride), Stephanie Plum (Sizzling Sixteen and Smokin’ Seventeen), Orson Scott Card’s Ender (Ender’s Shadow), and the Rashi’s Daughter trilogy came to an end with Maggie Anton’s Rachel.

David Hiltbrand’s series featuring Jim McNamara came to life with Deader than Disco, and Jack Reacher sucked me in with Running Blind. Of course, it’s not a year anymore without Jennifer Estep and I finally pulled Tangled Threads off my hard drive and put it on my Nook, where I spent a glorious week tap-tapping away as I turned pages.

I started even more series! I didn’t mean to, but my kids had a lot to do with it. The Boy Band and I worked our way through Heather Brewer’s The Chronicles of Vladimir Todd. He is also one of the only two people on the planet who could get me to read Suzanne Collins’ The Hunger Games trilogy.

That might be the best read of the year. The entire trilogy. So smart, so well conceived, the world building is strong and the concept is NOTHING like I’d been expecting.

The Girl Band came at me with two series of her own: The Goddess Girl series, written by Joan Holub and Suzanne Collins (the link takes you to a box set of the first three; the series is up to eight now), and Sienna Mercer’s My Sister the Vampire (the link takes you to the first in the series). These are fun reads, and I’d recommend them to anyone with a tween girl.

Diana Pharoah Francis wrote the book that became one of my vacation reads: Path of Fate. Good, solid vacation read. I put it down and picked up the second in CJ Lyons’ Angels of Mercy series, Warning Signs (can’t find a link!). I’ll finish both of those series, but it was Carrie Vaughn’s Kitty and the Midnight Hour that I’m raving about.

Other noteworthy reads include Jennifer Cody Epstein’s breakout hit, The Painter from Shanghai, All Other Nights, Dara Horn’s great work of Jewish lit set during the Civil War. The Rock and Roll Queen of Bedlam, by Merilee Brothers, had nothing to do with music and everything to do with fun.

Joanne Rendell’s third novel was her best yet. Out of the Shadows deserves to remain in the sun, all right. And if we’d like to return to the Jewish themes, Chris Bohjalian’s Skeletons at the Feast plays with themes similar to Jenna Blum’s Those Who Save Us. One more Jewish book was India Edghill’s Delilah. Not her best, but still a good read. It’s nice to see her complete her trilogy of Biblical historicals, and she remains a favorite author.

I actually ventured into best-selling arenas beyond The Hunger Games when my book club read The Help. Liked it, but I can’t say it was love. However, after connecting (again) with Jonathan Maberry at the annual Pennwriters Conference, I picked up Rot and Ruin for The Boy Band. I loved it. The Boy Band still thinks it’s too scary for him.

Anita Diamant wrote a book, Day After Night, that was largely ignored. At first glance, it’s easy to see why. I put it down and thought, “Meh. Her others were better” (particularly the fantastic The Last Days of Dogtown), but you know what? Day After Night is one of those books that sneaks up on you and resonates.

After reading Shreve Stockton’s The Daily Coyote blog for years, it was a delight to read the book of the same name at last.

As for my favorite, my baby, that Rock Fiction for which I’m becoming so well known, I hit that genre hard this year. Fourteen of the 84 reads count as Rock Fiction — and that includes some Did Not Finish books like Jennifer Egan’s Goon Squad. Check out my reviews over at Rocks ‘n Reads for most of my thoughts on those books. With the exception of Meg Cabot’s Size 12 is Not Fat, you can find the reviews over there. I’ll write and post the review for Size 12 as soon as I can. Stay tuned for that.

That pretty much brings us to 2012. Yeah, okay, I didn’t specifically mention 72 books here, but that’s because some reads weren’t really worth talking about. They were good reads, some were immediately forgettable… that’s how it goes. Not every book will hit it out of the park. I’m just grateful that I was able, once again this year, to bring you such a variety of titles.

Here’s to a new year filled with great reads for you. If you find something you think I need to know about, feel free to tell me! If it’s Rock Fiction, feel free to add it to the West of Mars Fans page over at Facebook, so you can share the love.

Keep on rocking and reading, gang. And remember: King Trevor. April 12, 2012. Are you ready?

I met Coral Moore over at the Kindle boards. We read each other’s submissions to the Pink Snowbunnies in Hell anthology — and I’m thrilled that we both made the cut. If you haven’t picked it up yet, why not? Part of the money from it is going to various animal shelters, including, I believe, the one I volunteer with.

We’re swapping promo space right now. I’ve got an interview that will be posted soon, and here’s Coral, telling us what song makes her think of her debut novel, Broods of Fenrir.

I know you’re usually quite rockin’ here on West of Mars, but I’m going to have to sappy the place up for a little bit. I hope you don’t mind. There’s one song that I’ve associated with the Brand and Dagny love story since I first wrote the two of them in a scene together, Do What You Have To Do by Sarah McLachlan.

The difficulties inherent in Brand and Dagny’s relationship are present from their first meeting. There are a multitude of reasons why they shouldn’t be together and forces trying to pull them apart. In addition to those external problems, they are both scarred and reluctant to give their hearts away.

The song is soft and in some ways distant, but there’s a strong emotional underpinning that personifies Dagny’s internal struggle. She wants to trust Brand, but the horrors of her past make believing in him impossible. The battle between her urge to run and her desire to stay drives much of what she does throughout the story.

Want to know more about Broods of Fenrir? Here’s the blurb:

Shapeshifter Brand Geirson was raised to rule the Broods of Fenrir, but he refused his birthright. Instead, he killed their brutal leader–his own father–and walked away.

For hundreds of years he’s avoided brood society, until a werewolf kills an innocent human woman and Brand finds himself dragged back into the violent politics of the shapeshifters. When the two brood women who mean the most to him come under threat, he must take up the throne and risk becoming the kind of vicious bastard his father was, or let the broods descend further into chaos–taking the friend he swore to protect and his lover with them.

Genre: Urban Fantasy
Length: 60,000 words or 210 paperback pages
Warnings: Violence, Strong Language and Sexual Content

Available in eBook at All Romance, Amazon (UK), Barnes & Noble, and Smashwords. Also available in paperback at Amazon and CreateSpace.

New Year’s Eve.

I’m off tour.
More’s still out.
So’s Hambone.

Mom’s with Antonio.
They’re going strong.

That means
tonight
It’s just me.
Alone.

For New Year’s Eve.

Used to be,
I thought
only losers
were alone
on
New Year’s Eve.

I’m no loser.
If anything,
I’m a nomad.
A nomad
With friends
On tour.
And a mom
with
a love life.

I’ve heard it said
that
what you do on
New Year’s Eve
is
What you’ll do
All
Year
Long.

Hope that doesn’t mean
I’ll be
Alone.

All.

Year.

Long.

I’ll share the saga of a week mostly without Internet (and the 150 mail messages that got nuked. Not good. Very very not good) later, but for now,

to celebrate the holiday season and to entice all you e-reader users, new and old, I’ve dropped some prices around town.

The Demo Tapes triplets are now 99c each.

Mannequin is now FREE (at Smashwords only for the time being).

If they sell well, I’ll leave ’em low, especially if they stimulate sales of Trevor’s Song. This is a good time for you already familiar with the Trevolution to gift some e-books to your friends, as well. King Trevor is still slated to be released on April 12, 2012.

Because Smashwords is my favorite retailer, here’s the link to my page there.

You Kindle users can use this link. Or the Smashwords one; you CAN get Kindle format from Smashwords, you know.

Here’s hoping you all had a great day today, regardless of what or how you celebrate.

It was via Triberr that I learned of the 2012 Ebook challenge forming up over at Workaday Reads.

The idea is that you pick how many e-books you’re going to commit to reading in 2012.

This is an awesome goal. One I wholeheartedly support. I’ve been reading e-books for over two years now, and I really love them.

It’s time to share the love.

If you or someone you know has signed up for the 2012 eBook Challenge — or any challenge that my books will count toward — AND you are willing to post a review (good or bad) somewhere online, I’ll gladly gift you Smashwords coupons for a free download of whichever of my books you’d like.

Go on. Spread the word. Spread the love.

… and I’m spending the day over at the Independent Writers Association, with thoughts of what it takes to de-stress. Need a hint?

Nah. This is a no-spoilers blog.

Go see for yourself.

Once again, I’m combining this week’s Three Word Wednesday post with real life. This is a stand-alone piece, but you old-timers will recognize and remember Kermit Ladd.

Kermit Ladd, intrepid journalist, was sent to the gorgeous suburb of Maison Villa to meet with legendary guitarist Terry Fantillo. With his seventh wife by his side, he proceeded to show all present his scaled-down models of the stack of amplifiers he intends to build.

“It’ll be the second man-made object visible from space,” he brags. One almost expects him to pound on his puffed-up cheset, but all present are spared that spectacle.

“I thought about making it a touring exhibit,” he goes on to say, “but my engineers told me it would be better to make it immoble. Otherwise, my stack,” he ads with one of those nods that tells you the speaker is about to divulge a huge secret for your ears only, “would confuse the astronauts in the International Space Station. They wouldn’t ever know what city they were looking at, or what part of the world was showing. I think it’d be great, but NASA wasn’t so into the idea. The astronauts have enough to deal with and focus on up there, I guess.”

When asked if he would ever turn on this wall of amplification, Fantillo laughs. “Wouldn’t that be the ultimate retribution for the asshole neighbor who keeps letting his dog shit in your yard?”

His laughter goes on even when he’s the only one laughing. If the atmosphere becomes strained, Fantillo doesn’t notice.

“Yeah, we’ll turn it on once or twice,” he says once his guffaws have smoothed out into something approaching a state of sobriety. For Fantillo, widely rumored to have an unacknowledged drinking problem, that is quite the claim. “The engineers tell me anyone in close proximity will be sorry, but we’ll do it. Maybe when we have friends over for the Super Bowl or New Year’s Eve.”

Wife Number Seven nods.

Fantillo smiles at her as if she has greatly pleased him. “It’s enough to have such a thing,” he says. “My wall of amplification. Maybe someone will put it in a museum, or the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. It’s going to be one-of-a-kind. No one will ever duplicate what I’m doing.”

The question, dear readers, is why anyone would ever want to.

Again, I’m a day late with this, but here it is anyway: I’m over at Tilly Greene’s Hot Thoughts today, taking part in her Perfect Gift is a Book series.

Stop in and see what my Perfect Gift is. And why not pick up one of my own books when you pick up my Perfect Gift, as well?

Oh, and while you’re there, leave a comment to be entered into a prize drawing at the end for all sorts of Perfect Gifts. Tilly’s come up with some doozies!

It seems that when I get Rock Fiction recommendations, they come from one of three sources: Misty of Top Shelf e-Books, Maria Savva, or Mary at BookHounds and Forever Young (Adult).

The rest of you DO know that if you come across something not on my Rock Books page, you’re encouraged to drop me a line, or post it over at the West of Mars Fans page at Facebook, right?

Anyway, today’s find comes from Mary. It’s author Heather Jensen, who wrote a Rock Fiction/Vampire book, Blood and Guitars. Yep, that’s pretty much it. Guitars. Vampires.

Which means that of course it’s another one I need. It’s in print, the Kindle store, and up at Smashwords (that’s where the link above will take you), so if you get your hands on it before I do, feel free to send me your review. I’ll link to it from the Rock Fiction page.

Read and rock on —

Since RJ was visiting yesterday, I didn’t want to pre-empt him, so I’m telling you about this today.

While RJ was here, I was over at Suzan Harden’s Wild, Wicked, and Wacky blog. I’m talking about the shiny stuff that surrounds us during the Christmas season … and I’m drawing comparisons of it to another, special shiny in my life.

Stop in and say hi, whydon’tcha? Suzan’s cool. You’ll dig her.

I’ve been buds with the most excellent RJ McDonnell for … years now, I’d bet. He’s a great dude, very savvy, and his books reflect this. Plus, the’re Rock Fiction, and we all know about Susan’s weakness for Rock Fiction.

In fact, RJ’s third book in his Rock & Roll Mystery Series, the Concert Killer, has just been released. Which means I get to bring you a Featured New Book that’s Rock Fiction! I do NOT do this nearly enough (hint to all you who know Rock Fiction authors, be they writing a series or a stand-alone.).

Without further ado, here’s RJ:

The song that makes me think of my novel, The Concert Killer, is its trailer song by the same name. Since I write the Rock & Roll Mystery Series, I decided to write an original song to promote the book. The novel is about a serial killer who attempts to shut down the concert industry, and opens on his fourth kill. The song serves as a prequel, providing details on his first three murders. Here’s a link to the YouTube trailer and song.

Lead guitar was performed by Robbie Walsh, who played with Noel Redding of The Jimi Hendrix Experience, Chubby Checker, Ginger Baker of Cream, and Tico Torres of Bon Jovi. Bass and drums were performed by Robbie’s current band mate, Larry Moss. I did the vocals and rhythm guitar.

I wrote the song almost immediately after finishing the edit on the book. This involved going through the text 20 times; immersing myself in the thoughts and feelings of a religious fanatic serial killer for months. Most of my friends and family told me they heard a distinct UK accent in my voice. They have all seen me perform at bookstores, parties, and library events in the past, and never picked up on this affectation on any of my other songs. I think the immersion process was so intense that I dug down to my Irish roots when delivering the vocals.

If you’re interested in finding out what the story is about, I posted the first 48 pages on fReado. It’s not your typical serial killer novel, which usually falls into the horror genre. This is a whodunit mystery. In
keeping with the first two novels in the series (Rock & Roll Homicide and Rock & Roll Rip-Off), I continued to use humor in between action scenes.

My detective is a 28-year-old who worked as a club musician for 10 years before starting his internship as a private investigator. During those 10 years he also attended college and worked as a counselor at an outpatient mental health center. Now that he runs his own detective agency he employs two former patients. They’re both very good at their jobs, but have quirks that
periodically lighten the mood.

If you enjoy rock fiction, all three are available in digital and paper formats. The digital versions are priced at $2.99 on Kindle:

Rock & Roll Homicide
Rock & Roll Rip-Off
The Concert Killer

There you go! RJ’s book makes him think of his own song! Just like Jeremy Wagner before him.

If RJ’s kind enough to send me a digital copy of The Concert Killer, I’ll post the review at all the usual suspects, starting with my own Rocks ‘n Reads blog.