Good Morning Monday! Spencer Cohen Book One Edition

Are you ready to meet Spencer Cohen?

It’s release week!!  I won’t lie – I’m super nervous about this one.  But I can’t wait for the world to meet him (and Andrew, of course).  The pre-release reviews have been fabulous, and it’s such a relief to know other people love these characters as much as I do. <3

The Spencer Cohen Series is being added to KU (Kindle Unlimited) which means it’s exclusive to Amazon.

The pre-order/buy links is

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01BOB6L56

EXCERPT:

“Come on,” Andrew said, standing up. “Let’s go.”

I slowly closed my laptop. “Uh, where exactly are we going?”

“You’re going to buy me my first Jeff Buckley album.”

I grinned at him. “Oh, am I?”

“Yes, you are. Unless you want to give me that one.” He pointed to my record player.

“Like hell. That’s my favourite.”

“That’s what I thought,” he said, walking to the door. He turned back to look at me—where I hadn’t moved from—and clapped his hands together. “Look alive, Spencer.”

“Alright,” I said, collecting my wallet and keys. I quickly grabbed two bottled waters out of my fridge and handed one to him as we walked out the door. “Are you always so pushy?”

He laughed, and those little lines crinkled the corners of his eyes, and the sun gave a warmth to his skin. He went down the stairs first and waited for me to get to the bottom. I guessed he was unsure of which direction to go. I pointed my thumb to the tattoo shop’s dead bolted door. “Can’t access the shop from the outside, so we’ll have to go around,” I nodded toward the end of the building, and we settled into a comfortable stride next to each other.

“I assume there’s a music store around here somewhere,” he said as we neared the street.

“There’s a few,” I told him. “Did you want CD or LP? I could have just downloaded it for you if that would have been easier.”

“I want LP.”

“Do you have a record player?”

“Well, no. But I think I’ll have to get one. I would imagine jazz and blues from vinyl would be incredible.”

I grinned at him. “I’ve created a monster!”

“You can’t just play classic vinyl albums to a music lover and not expect him to want it.”

I grinned. “True.”

We walked the two blocks, the banter between us never stopping. He talked with his hands when he explained things, which I found to be rather endearing, and I’m pretty sure I hadn’t stopped smiling since we left my place. I led him down a side alley off the boulevard and stood in front of the door to the music shop. “Before we go in, you must promise me something.”

He was suddenly serious. “What?”

“This place is special, and thus, must remain a secret.”

“Thus?”

“It’s a word.”

“That no one has used in two hundred years.”

“Not true. I just used it now.”

He laughed. “Okay, so I’m not supposed to tell anyone I came here?”

“Nope. It’s like Vegas.”

“As in ‘What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas’? Really?”

“Yes, really.” I nodded. “It’s too awesome to be popular.”

“Isn’t that redundant to their business profitability?”

“Possibly. But it’s completely old-school indie. I think the owner was a pot-smoking surfer from the sixties and has principles against corporations, though I’ve never asked him. Anyway, if too many people know about it, then it becomes mainstream. And that would ruin it.”

He frowned at me. “Then it’s not like Vegas. It’s more like Fight Club.”

I laughed and bowed my head. “Ah, Grasshopper. You have passed the test. You may enter.” He beamed, and I opened the door with a laugh.

He stepped inside.  “Okay, wow.”