| Copyright
© 2004, Loretta Jackson & Vickie
Britton Reviews For BITTER MELODY by Loretta Jackson & Vickie Britton "BITTER MELODY has all the right ingredients for a chart-topping novel. Elaine comes across as a vulnerable woman, learning how to stand on her own two feet, and that makes her a character you can identify with. Rex is a tough-nosed businessman with a sensitive side that he has no qualms about showing to the woman he loves. Throw in a disgruntled band member and a couple of ex-flames, and you’ve got a story with some surprising twists and turns in the plot. BITTER MELODY is a sweet story with a suspenseful edge that will tug at your heartstrings long after you finish the last page." Reviewed by Tracy Atencio, Romantic Interludes "BITTER MELODY is a story by Loretta
Jackson and Vickie Britton about Elaine Sands and Rex Tobin. Elaine
Sands is used to being in the background but circumstances lead her
to accept a position as a singer with Rex Tobin. Fighting attraction
and for her life, Elaine is brought into a world where the glitter of
fame is as sharp as the knife of betrayal. Not knowing whom to trust,
Elaine sees everyone as a suspect. As the concerts continue from town
to town, so do the unexplained accidents. Ms. Jackson and Ms. Britton
expertly weave mystery with a blend of romance. The secondary characters
were witty and kept the story going. Trying to figure out who the culprit
behind all the ominous accidents and threats is a brainteaser. Up until
the end I never guessed. The final revelation was satisfying and unexpected.
Sample Chapter For BITTER MELODY by Loretta Jackson & Vickie Britton Amid the buzz of excited talk and laughter, Elaine waited tensely for the audition to continue. She felt a thrill of excitement as the man in charge strode center-stage to survey the crowd. Again, she marveled at how striking the famous country singer of the Wind River Band appeared in person. Rex Tobin's muscular build in Western shirt, well-fitting denims and dark boots, gave him a natural, unaffected appearance. Coal black hair, thick and ruffled, added an appealing element of ruggedness the magazines and even TV cameras had failed to capture. For an instant his piercing blue eyes locked on Elaine and she felt a catch in her breath. Rex Tobin's lingering gaze, the reassuring warmth of his smile, seemed momentarily just for her. Was he about to call her name? Elaine's stomach tied in knots as she waited. “Next on the list,” he said, “Derrick Klein.” Feeling dizzy with relief, Elaine glanced toward her companion. Everyone always thought of them as a pair, although Derrick and she considered themselves only friends. When Derrick had learned about today's auditions at Craft Music Productions, of course he had wanted to try out too. She watched as Derrick made his slow, easy way toward the stage. With languid confidence, he paused to smooth his hair. His shoulders hunched as he leaned his tall frame closer to the microphone. His voice carried a ring of nonchalance that Elaine had always before considered appealing. As she listened now, she wasn't so sure. Elaine tried to take her mind off the fact that she would probably be next, wondering for the thousandth time at her friend's apparent lack of nervousness. She knew that, when her turn came, she would stand on stage feeling as though her body were held together by tightly stretched wires. But she wouldn't think of that now. She concentrated, instead, on Derrick. Usually she admired his abundant ease, but today this characteristic seemed twice magnified, and instead of working in his favor seemed to mark him as an amateur. Elaine knew she didn't even qualify for that label. She had almost no experience singing before an audience! Her father's death, three months ago, had brought chaos and financial ruin to her. Although she was a songwriter, not a singer, the stacks of medical bills, the pressure of increasing debt, had prompted her to sign up for the audition. Derrick's second selection had ended. He smiled, ducked his head lazily, and left the microphone. Elaine stole a glance at Rex Tobin, who now stood on the outskirts of the stage next to a distinguished man with silver hair. She thought she read some negative decision in his smoky blue eyes before he glanced at the paper in his hand and called out, “Elaine Sands.” Elaine rose; so tense she was unable to even smile in answer to Derrick's wink as he passed her. Panic suddenly seized her. What was she doing here? She belonged back at the desk in her room, content to work alone, unnoticed, lost in notes and verses. To calm her nervousness, she took a deep breath. She would give this her best try. After all, she was the daughter of the great writer and singer, S.S. Sands. “I would like to do one of my own songs,” she said into the microphone. She turned anxiously to the three backup musicians up on the stage who, with instruments ready, waited. “I am changing the order of the numbers I gave you, if you don't mind. I want to do the second selection first.” The youngest band member had begun tuning his guitar and the man beside him, a tall, brawny red-head, gave no acknowledgement that they had even heard her. But the third musician, a big, middle-aged man, who played the steel guitar, smiled and nodded. “I like that one best, too.” His fingers moved expertly over the strings as he spoke. Before Elaine turned back to the crowd, she glimpsed her own image in the chrome stand in front of the mike. Her thick, dark blonde hair looked disheveled. Locks of it clung to her damp forehead. Her tanned skin contrasted with her light eyes and white dress. Elaine started to sing, but the microphone was too high. She hadn't thought to adjust it. Her mouth felt dry and she couldn't keep the tension from her voice. Finishing this song was going to take a good deal of courage. She could see Derrick, slumped in his chair, fingers under his chin, nodding approval. Derrick seemed oblivious to the fact that things had gone wrong for him, that they were going wrong for her. She had made a grave mistake coming here today. After this was over, Derrick and she would stop by The Highlands, her cousin's club, have dinner and laugh about this pathetic attempt to join such a well-known tour. Freed for a moment, she felt as if her performance was improving. Her gaze wandered to Rex Tobin, whose eyes never left her face. Was it approval she saw in his intent expression, or rejection? The youngest band member, long-haired and sullen, had set aside his guitar and moved over to the drums. Suddenly distracted, flustered by both the abrupt change and by Rex Tobin's unyielding gaze, Elaine's voice faltered. Quickly, she recovered her pace. But something was dreadfully wrong. She hadn't written the song to be played with such a loud beat. The music began at once to over-power her lyrics and destroy the message she had worked so hard to perfect. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't bring back the haunting, melancholy strains which had caused the song to work. “You didn't love me yesterday, and I won't love you tomorrow.” Even though the song was about to end, not being able to bear it any longer, Elaine raised her hand for the musicians to stop playing. “I need to start again,” she said, facing the pleasant man she had spoken to earlier. “Would you please change to my other selection?” At that moment Rex Tobin stepped out on the stage. He glanced at his watch. “I'm afraid we don't have time for any more.” Then to the audience, “We will resume auditioning at one o'clock.” Even though Rex Tobin sounded polite and apologetic, Elaine, reacting to the pressure of the moment, felt his interruption rude, and responded with a flare of anger. Elaine had intended to challenge him, but he had already turned away to address the silver-haired man, who had followed him to the center of the platform. She directed her words to the steel-guitar player. “Why can't I at least finish one song?” The big man let his hand play absently across the strings. “I just hang around the throne,” he answered dolefully. “I'm not the king.” Elaine steeled herself as she strode forward to confront Rex Tobin. “Mr. Tobin,” she said, “I'll ask you. Can I talk to you directly, or do I have to send a courier?” Rex's blue eyes, lit with the sparkle of a smile, caught her off guard. As she faced him defiantly, an electric awareness stirred through her. She had been unprepared for the endless depths of Rex Tobin's eyes, so dark blue they seemed to merge with the black pupils. “I spent a great deal of time preparing for this audition. You could at least allow me to complete my songs.” A gentleness mixed with the strength of his features, as if he fully understood and sympathized. She had expected him to respond to her remark with annoyance, but instead he spoke softly. “I have only one observation. All the others auditioned because they enjoy singing.” Straightening a little as she spoke, Elaine said, “Music is everything to me!” “But how serious are you about conveying your message to an audience?” No use trying to explain to him that she aspired only to write songs, not sing them, that only the great need for money had forced her to audition for him in the first place. “I sang just as seriously as you listened!” Elaine could hear the sharp click of her high heels on the wooden stage floor as she hurried down the steps and started up the steep, inclining auditorium. She felt the eyes of the few that remained following her as she hurried past vast rows of seats. She would soon be outside, far away from the burning humiliation, away from Rex Tobin! “Wait a minute, Miss...” “Sands,” the older man supplied for him. “Miss Sands.” Elaine stopped walking and watched Rex Tobin stride quickly down the long aisle. His blue-black eyes left her feeling hypnotized, unable to look away. In spite of herself, Elaine felt her anger diminishing. “Don't misunderstand me. I would be the first to admit that you have much potential.” The deep voice, edged with sincerity, soothed her injured pride and made her feel undeniably drawn to him. How could she be so overwhelming attracted to someone she had just met? “In fact, I was greatly impressed by the haunting quality of your voice. I think you could be a real success, with a willingness to work hard and make many sacrifices. Most people lack the intestinal fortitude to do that.” “Don't concern yourself with my fortitude,” Elaine answered. “I will always put music first in my life!” Elaine started for the door. “Miss Sands,” Rex Tobin's deep voice called her back. “Don't leave. I think you might be exactly what I'm looking for.” Elaine turned back to him slowly. “I should never have auditioned for your show,” she told him frankly. “I am a songwriter, not a singer. I have almost no experience performing before a large audience.” “Experience you can gain. All you need is opportunity.” He studied her carefully for a moment. “There is a temporary spot on the show for a female singer that must be filled immediately. If you are interested, Miss Sands, I'm willing to take a chance on you.” Elaine's heartbeat quickened. Before she could respond, clouds of doubt overshadowed her elation. As if sensing Elaine's hesitation, Rex added quickly, “Before you make a final decision, why don't you join our practice session here tomorrow afternoon? In fact, let's meet a little early so I can fill you in on some details. Would you be free to have lunch with me next door at Renaldo’s at one o'clock?” |