New Orleans Second Lines by Lynn Lorenz | Cat's Release day Review & #giveaway @Dreamspinners @LynnLorenz

2nd Edition

Matt and Lane grew up together, best friends, sharing almost all their secrets. But on the last day of college, those secrets spilled in one night of passion and tore them apart, sending Matt to the West Coast and Lane home to New Orleans.

Now, Hurricane Katrina is set to destroy New Orleans. This might be the worst time to try for a second chance, but nothing can keep Matt from Lane. The man he let get away.

For Lane, no hurricane can pry him from the city, especially without Sebastian. The older man has been a dear friend and his landlord since Lane returned from college. Sebastian refuses to flee, preferring to stay in his Creole cottage in the French Quarter and ride out the storm.

Sebastian’s life becomes intertwined with Lane’s, as Matt finds out when he’s drawn into capturing Sebastian’s memoirs of being gay in New Orleans. The elder gentleman’s stories are full of surprises and lessons for the young men.

The most important ones Sebastian teaches them—and himself—are that second chances don’t come along often, and you’re never too old to fall in love.

First Edition published as Pinky Swear, Pioneers, and C'est La Vie by Amber Quill Press/Amber Allure, 2010.

Buy links: Dreamspinner | Amazon US | Amazon UK

Cat gives this one 4 Meows with a 3 Purr heat index...

I Love this sexy cover, it is what drew me to the book.

Lane and Matt were best friends growing up in the early 90's. This book shows them as teenagers then in college then as adults. Their story was touching and sweet. Neither boy would admit his feelings about the other and lane didn't feel like he was good enough for Matt. After college Lane goes home to New Orleans and Matt of to California to follow is dreams of a journalist. When Hurricane Katrina hits, Matt is sent back to New Orleans and decides to find Lane. What he finds is Lane is renting from and older Gentleman, Sebastian, that has become more than a friend.

I liked that there was more than one story line running through this story.  You have  Lane and Matt as teens then again as adults. Then we have Sebastian and he tells us of his past then we have his future as well.  Sebastian's story is what really made this book for me. I loved seeing  a man in his seventies getting a new lease on life. I loved how we got his internal thoughts and fears, however the story did hop around a bit. The first part was well marked for time but time moved very fast. I would have liked more of their time in the hurricane and more of Lane and Matt after their reunion, but having said that it was a sweet, romantic story and I adored Sebastian.

If yo like second chances, first love, new love, soul mates, and an allover great romance you should like this one.

Excerpt...

CHAPTER 1

New Orleans

Riverbend

April, 1985

LANE STARED at the long, dirt-stained bone lying on the floor of the clubhouse.

“Is that what I think it is?” He tore his gaze from the grisly thing illuminated by the flashlight quivering in his hand and looked up at Matt.

“If you think it’s a human leg bone,” Matt intoned in his scariest voice, “you’d be right.” As of the start of this school year, Matt had become Lane’s first best friend.

A shiver ran up Lane’s spine, and he swore his hair stood on end. The dark shadows in the corners of the clubhouse seemed to hold things he’d rather not think about. Or dream about.

“Where d-d-d-did you get it?” Lane whispered. He’d known Matt was brave, far braver than he’d ever be, but the idea that he’d touched the bone, much less found it, raised him up even further in Lane’s eyes.

“The cemetery.” Matt’s grin reeked of smugness, reminding Lane of the Cheshire Cat in Alice in Wonderland.

“No shit.” Lane let out a low whistle.

Matt nodded, crossed his arms, and sat back against the wooden slats.

“When?”

“Last night. Snuck out my window, walked right over to the cemetery, and climbed the fence.” His voice took on a singsong tone as he told the incredible story. Lane leaned forward, his eyes wide, his ears straining to hear the soft words.

“Did you see him?” Lane had to ask, had to know.

“Old Singin’ Joe?” Matt chuckled. “Yeah, I saw him, but he didn’t see me.”

Lane blinked several times to wash away the dryness burning his eyes. He’d kept them wide open for so long. Matt was cool, but Lane would never tell him that.

“No one goes in the cemetery without old Joe knowin’. And if he c-c-c-catches you—” Lane made a slitting motion with his hand across his throat.

“But he didn’t. I was dressed in all black.”

“Like a spy.” Lane didn’t bother to hide the awe in his voice. “Smart thinking.”

“Sure. I knew what I was doing.”

They stared at the bone again. Lane fought for each breath he took in the small makeshift clubhouse. The old blanket covering the doorway hung down, blocking out sight and sound of his house. They could have been on the moon, in the middle of a jungle, or on a deserted island, not just across the backyard.

He needed some fresh air. They were breathing in “bone” air, and there was no telling what was in that. Disease. Spores. Death.

“How’d you get p-p-p-past your dad?” Lane knew he should go inside, knew it was late, but the bone had somehow paralyzed him. Or maybe it was Matt.

“He was drunk, as usual.” Matt snorted. “I climbed out my window, got the bone, then climbed back in. He never moved from in front of the TV. Passed out cold.”

Matt’s father had scared Lane the first and only time he’d ever been in Matt’s house. They’d gone there after school to do some homework, but Matt’s dad had come home an hour later, drunk, mad, and fit to be tied about something.

When the yelling started, Lane had grabbed his book bag and hightailed it out of there. He’d run the whole way home, around two corners, and didn’t stop until he’d gone up the steps of his house and stood, hands on knees, sucking in air, on his front porch.

The next day at school, Lane saw the bruises on Matt’s arms peeking from under his sleeves and noticed the way Matt was walking, favoring his side.

No, Matt’s daddy was not a man Lane wanted to cross, and that Matt did it on a regular basis made Lane wonder if Matt was the craziest kid he knew or the bravest.

“What are you going to do with it?”

Matt shrugged. “Not sure. But I need to keep it here until I find someplace at home.”

“You’re going to k-k-k-keep it?” Lane’s voice squeaked. “Here?” He shook his head. “No way, José. Uh-uh. If my mom sees this, she’s gonna have a cow.”

“Just for a day or two.” Matt looked deep into Lane’s eyes. “You know I can’t take it home.”

“Take it back to the cemetery. That’s where it belongs.” Somewhere there was a ghost without a leg bone. Lane’s throat tightened and he barely got out the words, “Do you think it’ll come lookin’ for it?” He stared at Matt.

“Shit, no. It’s just a bone that floated up from a rotten casket. I got it in the section of the cemetery for the poor people. Found it lying right on the ground.”

Lane nodded. The cemetery sat one block away, and he’d grown up playing all around it. There were four sections, each the size of one block, three filled with raised crypts, mausoleums, and graves. The fourth section housed the graves of the poor, who couldn’t afford burial above ground. Its black iron fence and gates kept all but the mourners out and the dead in.

In New Orleans, bones float.

Matt grabbed Lane’s arm. “You can’t tell anyone.”

Lane nodded and swallowed.

“I mean it.” Then he let Lane go and stuck out his pinky, crooked like an upside-down hook. “Pinky swear.” Matt’s eyes narrowed, focused on him like laser beams.

Lane’s eyes just about popped out of his head. A pinky swear, second only to a double dare in its power. This was really serious. Things happened to kids who broke a pinky swear.

Lane licked his lips and hooked his pinky with Matt’s. Both boys stared into each other’s eyes, and Matt started counting out the years they had to keep the secret. “One, two, three….”

They pulled hard, trying to break the link between them. Lane strained with the effort, but Matt was bigger, stronger, and after all, it was his secret.

Lane’s finger gave way at nine. Nine long years he’d have to keep the secret.

Matt gave him a solemn nod.

“We have to hide it here.”

Lane shivered and looked around the clubhouse for a place to put the bone, but the place was empty. No pirate treasure trunks, no locked cabinets, nothing.

“Where?”

Matt stood and turned in a slow circle, then stopped. “Here. We’ll put it here, in this box.” He pointed to the cardboard box they used to hold a mess of stuff, like jump ropes, a few decks of cards, and assorted things they figured they might need in a secret clubhouse.

He dumped everything out, then picked up the bone and dropped it in.

“Shit! You touched it!” Lane yelled, jumping up and backing into a corner.

“Shut up!” Matt hushed him. “You’re such a baby, Lanie.”

“No, I’m not!” Lane took a step forward, his fists clenched. “Just because I don’t want any death germs on me doesn’t make me a baby.”

Matt shoveled the stuff on top of the bone to hide it. Lane made a mental note to never—ever—touch that stuff again. In fact, he’d throw it all away. Once he found something to touch it with, and after the bone was gone, because he sure wasn’t going to touch anything in that box with the bone still in there.

Then Matt stood in the doorway, lifting the blanket before he left. “Gotta go or my old man’ll kill me.”

Lane nodded. Those were just the words he wanted to hear. He nearly pushed Matt out the door in his hurry to leave the clubhouse and put the bone far behind.

He paused for a moment to appreciate how Matt jumped, with an ease he could never display, over the fence that separated their backyards; then he went inside.

All that night, his blanket pulled up to his chin, Lane listened for any noise of the ghost coming back to claim his missing bone. Somewhere, somehow, in the middle of the night, he fell asleep.

Lynn loves writing stories where her characters have to struggle to reach their happily ever after, but she always promises they'll get there. Born in New Orleans, living in Texas, she loves purple, green and gold, big hair, and tight blue jeans on cowboys.

Lynn Lorenz lives in Texas, where she’s a fan of all things Texan, like Longhorns, big hair, and cowboys in tight jeans. She’s never met a comma she didn’t like, and enjoys editing and brainstorming with other writers. Lynn spends most of her time writing about hot sex with even hotter heroes, plot twists, werewolves, and medieval swashbucklers. She’s currently at work on her latest book, making herself giggle and blush, and avoiding all the housework.

Website: http://lynnlorenz.com/

Twitter: @LynnLorenz

Blog: http://lynnlorenz.blogspot.com

Be sure to leave a comment to be entered into the TTC Books and more monthly comment giveaway. EVERY comment that is relevant to the specific post will be entered. Prizes include various gift cards and swag donated by Publishers, Authors and blog Owner. REMEMBER TO LEAVE YOUR CONTACT INFO! How else will I notify you if you win?