Virtual Book Tour Dates: 5/13/14 – 5/27/14
Genre: Literary Fiction
Blurb:
What is love? Is it a possession, something to confine and put on display? Is it declarations for the whole world to hear, or is it a precious space within the heart?
After a tragic event in which agents and parents keep them apart, Frankie and Alex maintain a long distance love affair throughout the turbulent Sixties, away from the prying eyes of the press and the fans. Separated, their love breeds strength to overcome obstacles that once held them down. Individually, they blossom creatively and their talents soar to new heights. Within the secrecy of their relationship, they learn greater lessons of love, lessons not defined by society, but by the heart and the soul.
A true lover knows what the other needs and will often make great personal sacrifices for the well-being of their lover. Sometimes the strength of love is being able to say goodbye.
Saying Goodbye, Love is Learning to Say Goodbye,
The Dancer Excerpt
Frankie entered the dance studio. Stretching before the mirror, she saw her reflection and liked the person she saw. The last couple of years brought nothing but self-condemnation, judgment and competition, mostly with Sarah. She never quite realized the negativity she had been carrying with her all these years.
Reaching for her bag, Frankie retrieved ballet slippers. It had been a long time since she had danced ballet, and she was afraid she would be unable. Her feet and ankles were not as flexible as when she was a girl. I was never a great ballerina anyway; she thought and corrected self-judgment immediately. I was quite a unique ballerina.
Tying on the slippers slowly and methodically was a meditation in itself, and she tied her hair into a tight bun. She went to the bar to do her warm-up exercises—plies, demi and grand, eleve, tendue and rond de jamb. She methodically warmed up each leg for several minutes until her legs felt loose and nimble.
Standing in the middle of the studio, she tried to recall a dance routine from Swan Lake. It felt good to move fluidly freely, alone across the studio’s hardwood floor. A loud clapping stunned her, and she immediately stopped dancing.
She turned and froze seeing Alex standing in the doorway. “What are you doing here? How did you find me here?”
He laughed. “Honey, I can find you anywhere. Called you, checked around with some friends and finally took a shot you’d be at the dance studio.” Alex started to approach her. “I have business in Los Angeles. You know that Zulu band I jammed with in Africa; well I’m producing an album for them.”
“Here?” she asked.
“Why not?” he questioned approaching her
“Alex, I’m practicing,” she said.
“Can’t I watch?”
Frankie rested her hands on her hips and stared at the floor. “This is my time to be me. Besides, I’ll feel a little exposed if someone’s watching me practice.”
He could understand all too well; he hated when Sarah or anyone was hanging over his shoulder when he was trying to write. It was that way with all artists; the moments of creativity and self-expression were always the most vulnerable. “Sure. I’ll wait for you in the lobby.”
Alex waited patiently outside for Frankie. He smiled politely at the receptionist, studied the dance studio lobby and the black and white photographs of dancers. Dancing to Alex was magic; he was amazed by the grace and beauty of the human body. He realized he never truly appreciated Frankie and dancing until now. A melody flowed through his head envisioning Frankie dancing.
“Excuse me,” he said to the dance studio receptionist, “Do you have a pen and paper?”
“Sure.” She handed Alex a pen and paper.
He returned to his seat and scribbled the words flowing from his mind onto the paper. When Frankie emerged from behind the closed door dressed simply in a t-shirt, tennis skirt and sneakers, he handed her the piece of paper. “Here, I just wrote this for you.”
“You just wrote me something?” Frankie glanced at the paper and laughed. “Please don’t.” She folded the paper and handed it back to him.
Alex refused to take it. “Nope, it’s already done. Besides, I wrote another copy. That’s yours.”
She unfolded the paper, laughed awkwardly and read:
With a look of desire she stretched her arm
Her fingertips tempting an unseen charm
Arching backwards with expressed desire
Silently igniting her internal fire.
Pirouetting in a mysterious space
Never exposing her invisible grace
The dancer alone feels the divine
Something the rest of us can never define
“Good grief!” she exclaimed and continued to read:
The tip of her toe gently taps a wanton beat
From within her heart she hears the repeat
Pirouetting in a mysterious space
Never exposing her invisible grace
The dancer alone feels the divine
Something the rest of us can never define
To feel it, to touch it is something I yearn
To feel her, to love her is something I burn
Spinning and swirling beyond recognition
Redefining the whole human condition
In a flurry of motion I wonder how
All that emotion finishes with a quiet bow.
Frankie was so taken with the words that she fumbled with the paper.
She folded the paper and placed it in the pocket of her dance bag.
“Don’t you like it?” he asked.
She studied Alex carefully and noticed every time she saw him, there was always a great change. He was no longer that wild, rebellious boy she fell madly in love with; he was now a man —physically, mentally, emotionally and even now creatively. “It’s beautiful.”
Alex threw his arm around her shoulder and noticed his Zulu Love Letter dangling off her dance bag. He kissed her on the head and made no mention of it.
Sometimes with love, you don’t need to say a single word; you just know it is there
Why are you stressing this? Unless there are other people’s reflections, it’s pretty obvious the one she’s seeing is hers Consider, “Frankie was so taken with the words that she fumbled with the paper. She folded it and placed it in the pocket of her dance bag.”
This would make a great tag line for advertising.
Excerpt 2:
Frankie couldn’t help it; she was so excited to be alone with him. “So, how was your incredible and inspiring trip?”
Alex sat down across the table from her with a bowl of fruit loops and a cup of tea. “Where to start? Australia was out of this world. Heard some incredible Aborigine music, and then a mad Aussie got me wasted. India was a spiritual hell hole, and I spent most of my time with the chattiest of Hindus, but a real nice fellow. South Africa, my guide, Cebo, was a crazier driver than you.”
“Crazier than you?” Frankie asked with a smirk.
“Crazier than you,” Alex restated strongly and laughed. “I jammed with a Zulu band, and they gave me the name Luyanda.”
“Sounds like a girl’s name,” said Frankie.
“Shut up. It’s very manly. It means love to grow,” he said.
Frankie looked at Alex curiously. “Love to grow? Your love is still growing?”
“Yes, apparently I am blossoming, like a budding flower,” he said with a smile and batting of his eye lashes.
“Girl,” teased Frankie.
Alex playfully kicked Frankie under the table. “Smarty,” he said and munched on a heaping spoonful of Fruit Loops. “Peru was a bit sad.”
“Why was Peru sad?” questioned Frankie with a mouthful of cornflakes.
“I saw this young man play guitar. He reminded me of myself years ago, but untouched and not jaded. His soul and his playing were pure. Not only have I lost that, I’m afraid I never had that. It made me think my entire life has been a waste.” He gazed at Frankie. “What do you see when you see meplay?”
Frankie sat back in her chair, thought for a moment and said, “Myself.”
The answer stunned Alex. “You see you?”
Curling her knees to her chest Frankie rocked forward. “Yes. I see you in me. I feel you in me. I feel your nervousness and anxiety. I feel what you play. It touches me, and I understand it all.” She could tell by Alex’s expression that her words made an impact, and she continued. “Alex, you‘re very talented. You need to start believing in yourself. You have traveled the world to discover music, but you don’t realize music has been inside you the whole time.”
Alex laughed. “Leave it to Frankie Freud to figure me out.”
“I’m going to start charging you,” she teased.
“Well, in that case, I do have a present for you.” said Alex and reached for his bag. “Check this out.” He pulled out the boomerang clappers and slapped them together. “Boomerangs as musical instrument, cool ‘eh?”
Frankie leaped from her seat and grabbed the boomerangs from his hands. “Wow! Are these for me?” she asked excitedly and danced around the kitchen wildly clapping the boomerangs.
Alex tugged the boomerangs from her hands. “No, they’re for me.”
“So I don’t get boomerang clappers,” she said with a pout.
“No, I have something else for you,” he said sternly.
He pulled out two jewelry boxes and rattled them both to hear the contents of what was inside. “Here, this is for you,” he said handing Frankie one of the boxes.
“Who is the other one for?” she asked.
“Sarah,” Alex replied flatly.
Frankie didn’t respond; she suspected the answer. She carefully unwrapped the paper and unfolded the tissue paper to find a beaded design hanging from a safety pin like ribbon. She glanced at Alex curiously.
“It is a Zulu love letter. I made it for you on the plane to Peru, spilled beads all over the cabin floor. Anyway, the bead colors tell the story of love,” explained Alex.
“What does it say?” asked Frankie.
Alex patted his lap and Frankie joined him. He pointed to each bead and explained, “The black beads mean heartache, the turquoise means I lose hope you will marry me, the red means longing and the green is jealousy.”
“Doesn’t sound like such a nice love letter,” said Frankie.
“But you see it’s all surrounded by the white beads that mean hope and the brown beads is like giving new life,” explained Alex. He put his arm around her waist. “The letter as a whole reads, despite all the heartache, impatience, longing and jealousy. I have hope that we will have a new life together.”
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About the Author:
Mahima Martel’s main focus in writing is love within drama, or dramatic love. She is fascinated by the human condition and what drives people to do what they do. Mostly, she found it is love, or lack of love that motivates people, whether it is to inspire to greatness, or to the depth of depravity.
Her first published book, The Insurrectionist tells the story through the eyes of a terrorist. The Saying Goodbye series looks deeply into a long standing celebrity love affair undiscovered by gossip columns and tabloid press. It asks the questions, “What really goes on behind the scenes of celebrity relationships and the fan stories we all love to hear about.
Mahima Martel is a news junkie and loves researching and digging deeper into many news and historical stories.Author Links:**Giveaways**The author is giving away a $50 Amazon gift card and two print copies of Saying Goodbye, Love is Learning to Say Goodbye.
The giveaways will run 5/13/14 – 5/27/14. Make sure to enter them both!
The Goodreads' giveaway is open to residents of the US/CANADA/UK/AU. The Rafflecopter giveaway is open internationally!
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Character Questionnaire 1960’s Rock Musician Alex Rowley
What do you consider your greatest achievement?
I have traveled the world, performed before a million people or so. I have written and composed music, but what is my greatest achievement? I would say true love. I would have never thought that after all I’ve seen and accomplished that the best thing in the world is the warmth I feel in my heart. It took a long time to get there, but I believe I have arrived.
What is your current state of mind?
Peace and joy, which is shocking since there was so much angst in my life. I can look back and see it was all worth it. It was all perfect in it’s imperfection. I wouldn’t want it any other way.
What or who is the greatest love of your life?
Years ago, I would have said Frankie and although she holds a very deep space in my heart, my greatest love is me. Once I came to love myself, love just unfolded all around me.
What is your favorite journey?
I traveled quite a bit, but my most fulfilling was a month long trip to Australia, India, South Africa and Peru. Each country held a great treasure for me. In Australia I was reborn. India I found inner peace. Africa I found love and Peru I found myself. Quite an amazing trip.
When and where were you the happiest?
It’s not a when or where, but when I’m writing songs. Most of them I’m thinking about Frankie and that makes me happy. But I love delving into creation because it soothes my soul.
Which talent would you most like to have?
I wish I could be in two places at once. Because no matter where I am in the world, I can always be with Frankie as well.
What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
The loss of my child. It is something I don’t think I will ever forget, even though I have learned to live with it.
Which living person do you most admire?
We always look to a great person, someone famous, but I admire the good souls, average every day men I met on my journeys - the South American Zulu Band jamming to great music and the pure joy they infuse. A guitarist performing on a small stage in Peru before a few patrons. These are the people with true heart and give me inspiration.
How would you like to die?
Happy. Knowing I lived and loved fully, knowing that in the end everyone around me is at peace.
1960’s British Rock Guitarist Alex RowleySaying Goodbye Character Questionnaire 2
· What do you consider your greatest achievement?
Never thought I was gonna go anywhere in life. I barely made it through school. Thought I was gonna end up working in shipyard with my pop. It’s a surprise to me that we’ve had so much success with the band.
· What is your current state of mind?
Confused. I had it all together - the band, the fans, the money, even a hot bird of a girlfriend. Then I meet Frankie and she, well, she turned my world upside down. Never thought a girl like her would even give me a second glance, and here she is loving me. I want nothing more than to have a life with her, but there is too much holding back.
· What is your favorite occupation?
I guess being a guitarist for a rock band. I’m mean let’s face it - money, chicks, you name it. What could be better?
· What or who is the greatest love of your life?
I never thought much of love, never thought it was for me. My girlfriend Sarah is sweet and all, but I never just felt so intense till I met Frankie. Sure she’s hot and fun, but it’s much more than that. She is the best friend I have ever had.
· When and where were you the happiest?
We were in bed and Frankie wanted to play my guitar. Who was I to deny her. In fact it was so sexy watching her pluck the strings. She was naked under the sheets, sweaty and disheveled as she sang, “Moon River.” Man, I thought I died and went to heaven.
· Which living person do you most despise?
It would have to be Frankie’s father. I knew he hated me from the moment he laid eyes on me. I haven’t done anything to him. All I wanted to do was take Frankie to a ball and he treated me worse than some vagrant.
· What is your greatest regret?
Returning home to London. I should have stayed in New York with Frankie. If I did, we would be together.
· What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
I would never admit this to anyone, but I’m afraid. I’m afraid of love. I’m afraid of losing someone like Frankie. I wish I had the courage to fight for her.
· If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
A stronger man.
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Dark Knight Songs
Dreamtime
I closed my eyes to seeTransient beings beneath me.Fluidly I emerge from the earthTaking this shape I had since birthThis Dreamtime seems to be,Seems to be me, shaping me.Deep murmurs ring through my soulFilling my being until I’m wholeThe slapping claps jumpstart my heartThat pumps the life I need to startThis Dreamtime seems to be,Seems to be me, creating me.Vibrating reeds resonate in my nervesCharges the life I am here to serveRoaring thunder provokes my mindAnd clears the path I am sure to findDreamtime seems to be,Seems to be me, defining meDreamtime seems to be,Seems to be me, making me.
Long, Long Time Ago
The nimbleness of his fingersThe quietness of his soulMade me realizeI missed somethingA long, long time agoThe plucking of the stringsThe harshness of my mindI have to admitI denied somethingA long, long time agoThe screaming from our lungsThe hollowness of our voicesThere was no doubtWe ignored somethingA long, long time agoThe circling came to closeThe darkness filled the voidIt was obviousI forgot somethingA long, long time agoThe gentle strumming of his guitarThe openness of my heartIt is clearI rediscovered somethingI lost a long, long time ago.The Dancer
With a look of desire she stretched her armHer fingertips tempting an unseen charmArching backwards with expressed desireSilently igniting her internal fire.Pirouetting in a mysterious spaceNever exposing her invisible graceThe dancer alone feels the divineSomething the rest of us can never defineThe tip of her toe gently taps a wanton beatFrom within her heart she hears the repeatPirouetting in a mysterious spaceNever exposing her invisible graceThe dancer alone feels the divineSomething the rest of us can never defineTo feel it, to touch it is something I yearnTo feel her, to love her is something I burnSpinning and swirling beyond recognitionRedefining the whole human conditionIn a flurry of motion I wonder howAll that emotion finishes with a quiet bow.What to Say?
What to sayLove’s gone awaySo I sit here aloneWatching the world go onWhat to doThere’s nothing left of youI thought we would be foreverBut now I know it’s neverLike the ocean tidesThe heart changes strideLike the winds that blowLove’s yes turns to noWhat to feelIt’s my heart that’s to healIt’s been aching since you leftCan’t rid the dullness in my chestWhat to thinkWhen I thought we were in syncWas I wrong to believe in timeOne day that you’d be mineLike the ocean tidesThe heart changes strideLike the winds that blowLove’s yes turns to no
Space
We move so quickly through spacePassing each other at such a quick placeAll we can do is love when we shareAn instant in time with no moment to spareIt does a person really no goodTo cling too tightly if we couldLove one another while we still canAnd let love flow as if life just began.Set you Free
We walked along the mountain passTalking of this love so rareTogether forever, this love could lastThe tell-tale signs were everywhereTried holding on for oh so longHolding on just to surviveSo many games couldn't tell right from wrongAnything to stay aliveI set you freeYou said to meI let you beMy love to beWe scraped and scrappled while apartFeeling as cold as a stoneWe learned love's lessons and took them to heartBut our hearts were not at homeI set you freeYou said to meI let you beMy love to seeRemember me my darlingRemember me my loveWe said today our fond adieuKnow my love will never fadeMy heart is stronger because of youAnd my heart has never strayed
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