Hiya peeps, today we have Annabeth Albert popping in with the tour for her newest release All Note Long, we have a great guest post from Annabeth with her All Note Long playlist, a great excerpt, Aerin’s review and a fantastic giveaway! So peeps, check out the post and enjoy! <3 ~Pixie~
All Note Long
Annabeth Albert
Giving true love a spin . . .
Michelin Moses is a country music star on the rise. With a hit single under his Texas-sized belt buckle and a sold-out concert tour underway, his childhood dreams of making it big are finally coming true. But there’s one thing missing—a promise to his dying mother that he’d find it—him—when the time was right. With a little luck, he won’t have to wait too long . . .
Lucky Ramirez is a hunky boy toy who dances at The Broom Closet, one of West Hollywood’s hottest gay bars. He loves what he does, and he’s good at it—almost as good as he is at playing dumb when he spots Michelin Moses at the bar. What happens next is off the charts—and keeps Michelin coming back for more. He’s just not sure it’s the right move for his career. But if Lucky gets his way, Michelin will get Lucky—and no matter how the media spins it, neither of them will be faking it . . .
Annabeth Albert All Note Long Playlist!
Thank you for having me today! At the end of each of the #PerfectHarmony series books, I include an annotated playlist for that book. I thought it might be fun to give you sneak peek at ALL NOTE LONG’s playlist. The full list is in the back of the book and be sure to follow me on Spotify for playlists to all my books.
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Music is a huge part of my creative process, and assembling the play list for All Note Long was particularly fun, simply because it was so different from the first two books in the series. Also, Michelin and Lucky have very different tastes in music, and I found myself switching the styles of music that I listened to, depending on whose point of view I was in. You can check out my full playlist on Spotify, and don’t forget to check out the playlists for the first two books in the series as well.
On a serious note, as a country music fan, I would be remiss if I didn’t point out the wide diversity of political opinions within the genre. Michelin’s experiences with his label and conservative radio hosts certainly isn’t unique, but some of the genre’s biggest stars are vocal supporters of LGBT rights, and the genre takes more steps forward all the time. Watching the genre evolve toward a place of more acceptance and tolerance is a slow process, but change is coming. A huge shout-out to Steve Grand, Chely Wright, Ty Herndon, Billy Gilman, and other artists who have come out and who continue to advocate for change within the genre.
I hope you enjoy Michelin’s journey and this peek into the music that inspired me!
Geronimo”—RuPaul featuring Lucian Piane. The moment I heard this song, the character of Lucky was born, and I knew immediately that I was pairing him with Michelin. I could totally picture Lucky twerking his way into Michelin’s solitary life and upending everything he thought he knew about himself.
“El Cerrito Place”—Kenny Chesney. This song became indelibly linked with Michelin, who is looking for someone without even knowing it, looking for a way out of his loneliness. This entire album was on repeat for me.
“Colder Weather”—Zac Brown Band, covered by Home Free. Lucky is the sunshine and warmth Michelin’s life has been missing, but Michelin needs to be brave enough to reach for him.
“Please Come to Boston”—cover by Kenny Chesney. There are so many wonderful versions of this haunting song. I knew I wanted Michelin to sing this song because he too is yearning for someone to call home.
“Wake Me Up”—Avicii, covered by Home Free. The original version of this song is very Lucky, then Home Free’s country version is totally Michelin, and together they are both waiting for the other to come into their lives.
“Paparazzi”—Lady Gaga. It’s what initially brings the guys together, but I know Lucky could do a kickass routine to this song, too.
“Superman (It’s Not Easy)”—Five for Fighting. This is the moment when Lucky’s impression of Michelin starts to change.
Excerpt
Michelin Moses had no business at a gay bar, especially not one as notorious as West Hollywood’s The Broom Closet. And the line to get in totally underscored that—the vestibule was a long, narrow tunnel filled with kids out to enjoy their Friday night. Babies, really. Fresh-faced young things who probably didn’t even need to shave jostled one another in the tight space, laughing and joking as they admired one another’s club wear and gossiped about who was fucking who.
Not that Michelin was listening in, but the space was so tiny it was hard not to. He didn’t have club wear to ogle. He had “please for the love of God don’t notice me” clothes. And the idea of openly pointing to another dude in line and announcing to one’s friends, “Oh yeah, I hit that last weekend” was so totally foreign that he couldn’t help but gape a bit. The plexiglass walls of the tunnel gave off weird shadows—neither the lights outside the club nor the dim track lighting along the bottom edge of the tunnel were enough illumination.
He tugged at the collar of his Henley shirt. Damn, it was hot in here. Too small. Too tight. Not enough air. Shut up. He was not claustrophobic. If this line ever moved, he’d feel better once he was inside the Closet.
If that’s not a metaphor for your whole damn life…
“ID please.” Finally, the line reached the bouncers who were taking ID. Michelin couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had to stand around like this, show ID. At least unlike these nineteen-year-olds with their fake identification, Michelin’s Oregon driver’s license was likely to hold up. The bouncer was a huge guy—so tall and jacked that Michelin felt for the tiny stool that held him up—with surprisingly small, delicate hands.
He held the card aloft before finally handing it back and nodding. “Okay, cowboy. Enjoy your night.”
At least he hadn’t laughed outright at the name. That was something. Shoving his license back in his wallet, he stumbled a bit coming out of the tunnel.
“Watch it,” someone barked behind him.
“Sorry,” Michelin mumbled. Hell, he couldn’t even successfully enter the Closet. A nervous laugh bubbled up in his throat, something he stamped right back down. Forget the stupid bar, coming out of his personal closet was out of the question, and he didn’t need the crowd jostling behind him to remind him of that.
“This your first time here?” a kid to the left of him asked—short little guy with far more bravado than brains. Michelin made a noncommittal response but the kid grabbed his sleeve, his eyes going soft and hooded. “How about you be my daddy for the night? We can make sure it’s your lucky night.” The kid winked.
Ugh. Getting lucky wasn’t even remotely in the cards for his night.
“No thanks.” He pulled away from the kid, scanning the cavernous space for signs of the private party room his friends had promised. And oh holy hell, knowing in the abstract that this place had go-go dancers was a far cry from actually seeing said dancers dispersed through the place on platforms and in cages and even on something resembling a trapeze. Gleaming bronze skin and tiny shorts everywhere he looked.
Fuck the private room. I need a soda. Something to relieve his suddenly parched throat. He turned toward the main bar area and ran smack into one of the elevated dancers’ platforms. Two platforms flanked the opening of the club, directing the stream of traffic toward the bar, sort of like how a different sort of place might have large statues. Only instead of works of stone or ice, this…piece of art in front of Michelin was all man.
And what a specimen he was. The dancer probably wasn’t much older than the kids waiting to get into the club, but there was nothing juvenile about his tall, ripped body or that juicy bubble butt that he worked to perfection the way Michelin’s guitar player did a solo—each muscle working in concert with the others, each wiggle carefully choreographed for maximum appeal. Said butt was encased in a pair of shorts. Or at least Michelin guessed that one would call them shorts—they were longer than underwear, but not by much, and made of a clingy, silky red material. The stitching did things to the guy’s package that shouldn’t be legal.
Those muscular legs and that smooth, oiled chest also needed outlawing. The dancer had completed his look with thick, chunky combat boots, sunglasses, and a necklace with a medal on it. The boots and glasses upped the hotness factor to supernova, giving him an untouchable appeal that made it no surprise that he had a fair-sized crowd around his platform. Right as Michelin completed his muscle-by-muscle catalog of the guy, the dancer’s glasses slipped, revealing chocolaty eyes. His eyebrows went up, and the message he sent Michelin was unmistakable: You gonna stay there all night?
Oh fuck. Michelin was blocking the line of traffic, and more important, blocking access to the platform for the patrons who wanted to slip tips in the guy’s waistband.
Should he? He shoved a hand in his pocket, considering. Did he dare risk touching a piece of that gleaming skin? The lights reflecting off the dancer’s body totally made Michelin think of caramel dripping off flan—rich golden tones only enhanced by the contrast of the shiny black combat boots and his closely cropped black hair.
What the fuck was the protocol in a situation like this? Hi, I’m sorry I’ve been eye-fucking you for the last ten minutes, here’s a five? He’d never been to a straight strip club either. Hell, he avoided most bars like the plague. And eye-fucking? He never ogled—and not just because it could be disastrous to his career. Most of the time he simply felt oblivious, but something about the dancer perked up parts of Michelin that usually stayed dormant. Two people shoved around him to stuff money in the dancer’s shorts, their arms trapping Michelin briefly in place. Coming here had been a giant mistake, just as Gloria had warned him.
“You can’t go to that party! Gossip is already high about you mentoring two gay groups—”
“They’re not gay groups. They just happen to have gay members,” Michelin said wearily, already tired of this latest publicist the label had shoved at him.
“Whatever.” Gloria flipped her bony wrist. “They’re a risk you can’t take right now.”
“It’s no big deal. There will be straight people at the party.” Michelin didn’t bother with the “other straight people” pretext. Gloria knew the drill. “There’s no risk in celebrating a friend’s birthday.”
Except now, looking at the dancer, Michelin knew how wrong he’d been. This place was risk personified, and that dancer was the embodiment of everything Michelin denied himself. The dancer was a triple pour of top-shelf whiskey and Michelin couldn’t stop thinking about the heady rush touching him would bring. He should turn around now. Get back to his car now before he really embarrassed himself—
“Mi—boss! There you are!”
Oh thank you, small mercies, that Lucas stopped himself before he said Michelin’s name. Still, Michelin turned toward him warily. Play it cool, he tried to tell Lucas with his eyes.
Lucas nodded, just slightly. Message received. Like everyone else in the club, Lucas was in his early twenties and about a decade younger than Michelin, but at least he was one of Michelin’s favorite kids, especially because he was here to lead Michelin away from the temptation that was the dancer with the sculpture-worthy ass.
“The party room is back this way.” Lucas motioned with his hand. “Follow me.”
“Babe!” A familiar rangy figure with a punk haircut draped himself over Lucas. “You found him.” Cody had a smile for Michelin, but his affection was all for his boyfriend.
Ordinarily, Michelin loved being around the two of them and the other guys he mentored. Their energy was infectious, and their passion for music renewed his own. But tonight, Michelin’s stomach cramped as he followed the two of them to the rear of the club. Happiness practically rolled off them and their movements were totally in sync with each other. Once Michelin had thought he might get to know what that was like, but those days were long past.
“Don’t even think about doing anything now. You’ve got too much riding on this year. Don’t be foolish. You’ve got the number one country song in America right now. Don’t mess with your momentum.” Gloria’s voice rang in his ears. Nope. No way was Michelin ever getting what his friends shared. No sense in pining for it either. He had a career he loved, friends who made him laugh, and family at his back. He’d known what the trade-offs were when he decided to trade his rock stardom for country crossover success.
Tonight’s strange melancholy mood had him aching to get back home, push all these feelings into working on a new song. With any luck, Michelin could say happy birthday to Jalen, make a round of greetings to the other musicians he was mentoring, and get the hell out of Dodge. Preferably without running into the dancer again. He didn’t need another reminder of how little he fit into this world—or how much he wished life were a bit different.
About Annabeth
Annabeth Albert grew up sneaking romance novels under the bed covers. Now, she devours all subgenres of romance out in the open—no flashlights required! When she’s not adding to her keeper shelf, she’s a multi-published Pacific Northwest romance writer.
Emotionally complex, sexy, and funny stories are her favorites both to read and to write. Annabeth loves finding happy endings for a variety of pairings and is a passionate gay rights supporter. In between searching out dark heroes to redeem, she works a rewarding day job and wrangles two toddlers.
Represented by Saritza Hernandez of the Corvisiero Literary Agency
Where to find the author:
Facebook | Facebook Author Page | Twitter | Tumblr | Facebook Fan group Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/Nb9yv
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Review
Title: All Note Long
Series: Perfect Harmony #3
Author: Annabeth Albert
Genre: Contemporary (Lyrical Shine Imprint)
Length: Novel (320 pages)
Publisher: Kensington Books (August 2nd 2016)
Heat Level: Moderate
Heart Rating: ♥♥♥♥ 3.5 Hearts
Blurb: Giving true love a spin . . .
Michelin Moses is a country music star on the rise. With a hit single under his Texas-sized belt buckle and a sold-out concert tour underway, his childhood dreams of making it big are finally coming true. But there’s one thing missing—a promise to his dying mother that he’d find it—him—when the time was right. With a little luck, he won’t have to wait too long . . .
Lucky Ramirez is a hunky boy toy who dances at The Broom Closet, one of West Hollywood’s hottest gay bars. He loves what he does, and he’s good at it—almost as good as he is at playing dumb when he spots Michelin Moses at the bar. What happens next is off the charts—and keeps Michelin coming back for more. He’s just not sure it’s the right move for his career. But if Lucky gets his way, Michelin will get Lucky—and no matter how the media spins it, neither of them will be faking it . . .
ISBN: 9781601835062
Product Link: http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/book.aspx/33297
Reviewer: Aerin
Review: I’m still confused as to what black hole I fell through and what universe I ended up in, because this version of Michelin is as alien as a… well an ALIEN! Just who is this version of Michelin and what has been done to him? It’s possible that I formed the wrong impression about him based on the previous books, or maybe I had different expectations; one thing I didn’t see coming is this scared, spineless, door-matt Michelin who allows others to control every single aspect of his private life.
Michelin Moses has left his rock-band past to follow his true calling: a career in country music. County music is his life, his one true passion; his stardom is still on the rise and he’s not at the top of the charts yet, but his music tells a story and there’s nothing people love more. Michelin is also closeted, miserable, and afraid to do anything that might reveal his sexuality and ruin his career.
I understand that country music fans come mostly from the southern states where homophobia reigns, and I can definitely accept the need to keep private life private and away from public scrutiny. But to NEVER explore your sexuality with other men (one time as a teenager when rubbing off is as far as you made it doesn’t exactly count) and become a 35(?) year-old man who’s a virgin is…. unfathomable. I’ve had people react to my review with “but he’s demisexual!” and I understand that part, however that wasn’t enough of an explanation for me. People don’t grow up knowing they’re demi-sexual, they wonder why they’re different, why sex for them isn’t a big deal; they experiment and question themselves, and usually have several sexual partners until they realize the truth about themselves. Even demi-sexual people are curious about sex and what makes it such a big deal.
Lucky Ramirez is a Hispanic hunk of sexy, a dancer whose career aspiration is to become a dancer in a Vegas show. Meanwhile Lucky is a go-go dancer who can twerk better than most women; one look at Lucky’s sexy body and mesmerizing booty shaking and Michelin is a goner. Backstabbing co-workers and bad timing put Lucky and Michelin in the public eye and Michelin has no choice but to come out of the closet.
Playing the happy couple isn’t hard and it starts feeling more real as the days go by. Both Lucky and Michelin develop feelings for each other, but backlash from retailers and some conservative fans puts an end to their very public relationship. Lucky goes from being the very public fake boyfriend to the hidden/secretive real boyfriend and he knows he deserves better than that.
I struggled to connect with Michelin, I didn’t understand his fear to stand up for himself (especially once he was out of the closet), and it seemed to me like he was slightly homophobic himself. Most of the COUNTRY was fighting for his rights and the discrimination against him, while he was content to let the few bigoted conservatives dictate his life. Nuh-uh! Grow a set of balls, dude! On the other hand, I loved Lucky; I loved his personality and his determination to not settle for being kept a secret. And I adored that he refused to change his career choice or his job just because it was an embarrassment to Michelin; Lucky was proud of himself and his hard work!
The only thing that made up for this boring and frustrating Michelin are the hot sex scenes. Michelin might be a virgin, but he’s also discovering he’s a very enthusiastic bottom and Lucky loves nothing more than to show him just how good sex can be when feelings are involved.
The last 15% of the book was pretty sweet and that was more like the Michelin I was expecting to see all along, but it came too late. We did get to see a little more of Trevor and Jalen, which I appreciate since they’re my favorite couple, and the rest of the secondary characters are pretty diverse and fabulous, but there’s something that didn’t let this book shine. All Note Long is missing its spark.
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