Thursday, April 3, 2014

Blue Notes Blog Tour!


Welcome to our stop on the Blue Notes blog tour. Sit back, relax and enjoy! :-)

Blue Notes
 by Carrie Lofty
Published by: Gallery Books
Publication date: April 7th 2014
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance

For fans of Jamie McGuire and S.C. Stephens, a sizzling new adult novel featuring the tumultuous relationship between a young piano prodigy and a reluctant billionaire playboy—set against the vibrant backdrop of a New Orleans college campus.

After being bounced from foster family to foster family, Keeley, a talented pianist, is ready to start over as a junior at Tulane. But when she plays a small concert that attracts the attention of Jude, a brooding playboy and heir to an enormous fortune in the wake of his parents’ tragic death, suddenly Keeley’s life is thrown off balance once again.

Jude is the first person to confront her about the pain behind her music, and she struggles with whether or not to let him into her life, or to keep protecting herself from the hurt that relationships have caused her in the past. But Keeley’s about to learn that the melancholy young billionaire who appears to have everything can open her eyes to exactly what she needs…




Since 2008, RITA-nominated and RT Reviewers’ Choice-winning author Carrie Lofty has over twenty books to her name–or four names, to be precise. Her paranormal (as Lindsey Piper ) and historical romances from Pocket have been described as “nuanced and superbly realized” (The Chicago Tribune) and “sexy, brutal and somehow innocent” (All About Romance). Now Carrie is celebrating her first New Adult romance, Blue Notes , featuring a shy piano prodigy and a New Orleans playboy shouldering his family’s crumbling empire.

With Lorelie Brown, the Katie Porter co-writing team has been honored with a Reviewers’ Choice award for Best Erotic Ebook, and the first m/m nomination for RT‘s Book of the Year. Back-to-back releases of their La Femme Nakita-inspired “Command Force Alpha” series will begin in August from Samhain.

During her junior year abroad, Carrie lured an unsuspecting Englishman to the Midwest, where she’s kept him a happy ex-pat for sixteen years. With two pre-teen daughters and a master’s degree specializing in the Old West, Carrie is a movie buff, a former ballroom and bellydancer, and a woman in desperate need of a maid service.

Author links

Jude’s eyes lose that scary intensity. He’s about to tease me. How do I know that so quickly?
“I bet you practice every day.”
It comes across as an accusation. “Yes.”
“Like you did this morning?”
I look away, embarrassed all over again. He catches my chin. Our gazes smash together. He keeps doing that. Colliding with me. I can’t tell if it’s the best thing ever, or a force that’ll bust me into a thousand pieces.
He tightens his fingers in a silent prompt for an answer.
“Yes,” I say. “Like I did this morning.”
“Can you do it again, or was that a one-time deal?”
“Of course I can do it again.”
“Prove it,” he says bluntly. “It’s an open mic, Keeley. The next person up onstage is the next person to perform.”
I start to tremble. “Do you mean me?”
“Why not?”
I blink past a surprising rush of tears. Suddenly I’m back in that damn courtroom, with a hundred pairs of eyes on me, hanging on every word. Some were sympathetic, like my attorney’s and even the judge’s. The reporters’ were avaricious. The defense guy may as well have been made of ice.
And my dad . . .
I don’t duck in time to avoid a clue-by-four. The courtroom. . . and the stage . . . and all eyes on me. I can’t go through that again. It’s only taken me, what, six years to figure out why I have stage fright?
“No way,” I say. “I won’t be bullied about this. You can’t dare me.”
“How can I resist? Hearing you through sound dampening walls wasn’t enough. I want to see you too.” He lets go of my chin, but doesn’t let go of me—not emotionally, anyway. “And a dare won’t be necessary.”
He says it with complete confidence. Oh, to have a tenth of his assurance.
A crazy part of me wants him to keep pushing. Keep going. Don’t stop. I want to play for you, but I don’t know how.
I burn beneath the return of my blush. “If not a dare, then . . . what?”
His thumb slowly traces my lower lip. “There it is,” he says on a deep masculine sigh. A shiver of sexual awareness chills my skin. “You’re confused and hopeful. Not pissed off anymore. Your mouth is as beautiful as I knew it would be.”
What am I supposed to do with that other than mentally trip and never get up again?
Tell me more and I’ll try to believe it.
“I want you to show this whole place, Keeley. I want you to show me.”
I don’t reply. I only have one voice left . . . and it’s on stage.
It’s a test. The whole night is a test. How to survive a trial by spontaneous masculine overdrive. Jude Villars—his eyes, his gorgeous face, those built arms, his man in a man’s world way of dressing . . .
Show him what you can do.
Take him by surprise.
I take myself by surprise when I dig my fingers into his lapels. I drag him closer. The gap between our mouths isn’t big. I could kiss him if I wanted. I want to break him into a thousand pieces.
“You think you’ve got it all figured out,” I say. “You don’t. Not about me.”
The exhales between us are thick and hot. At least he’s breathing as hard as I am. He chuckles softly. The sound, the secondhand feel of it, ricochets down my chest. I’m tinder catching fire.
I can do anything.




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