The Devil’s Jukebox
There’s music in the title, music in the
chapters, and a playlist at the end of the book. Music, in this novel, is the
driving force behind the Muses—and here are my top ten songs that inspired the
story contained within the Devil’s Jukebox.
1 - Nick
Cave - Fifteen Feet of Pure White Snow. So many songs by this man could fit
into this list, but this one gets me dancing behind the keyboard. Perfect for
that winter writer’s block.
2 - The
Cure - The Exploding Boy. This was the B-side to the In Between Days 7”,
which I’ve been carrying around with me since 1985. It was a high point in my
days of being the Happiest Goth.
3 - Christian
Death - Romeo’s Distress. This song was a direct inspiration for a scene in
the novel. I wrote the scene with this song in mind before I had a place to put
it, and then eventually I wrote my way to the place where it fit. It moves like
a desert drive down an empty highway. A soundtrack moment.
4 - 54*40
- Yank. Not an obvious choice, but it’s another song that moved into the
novel. A deep dark rolling groove that feels like it should always be somewhere
within the Devil’s Jukebox.
5 - The
Gun Club - My Dreams. Whiskey fueled punk rock jangle for that long highway
drive. This song is so upbeat and at the same time so damn heartbreaking. The
Gun Club helped me get to the end of the story. “They were supposed to be my dreams…”—so much ache in one simple
line.
6 - Low
- Canada. This is what I would call Heavy Mellow. The oceanic drive of the
music under the ethereal vocals keeps me drifting across distance. It pushes me
across pages, and when the song ends I listen to it again just so I can keep
writing. An expansive longing that I try to focus into certain words.
7 - David
Usher - St. Lawrence River. There are so many fantastic songs in his
repertoire, but this one seems to be the song that inspires my own personal
Muses. Dark, beautiful, melancholic, romantic.
8 - Oversoul Seven - Roses. A slightly
obscure track, but this song kills me. Romantic pop perfection.
9 - Peter Murphy - I’ll Fall With Your Knife. Smooth
and sultry, dark and romantic. The man from Bauhaus paints a longing beauty
that I can only hope to touch within my own writing.
10 - Slow - Have Not Been The Same.
Vancouver punk rock circa 1986. This song paints a perfect picture of getting
sick of high school and wanting to get the hell out of that place I was
supposed to call home.
Now, if you had a jukebox that could
bring your best memories back into vivid almost three-dimensional
recollections… what would you pick?
The Devil’s Jukebox
Marcel Feldmar
Genre: Urban Fantasy / Paranormal Pop Fiction
Publisher: Peabo Productions (Self-Published)
Date of Publication: July 8th, 2014
ISBN: 9781495947469
ISBN: 9781310876769
Number of pages: 294
Word Count: 80,000
Cover Artist: Sam Soto
Book Description:
A group of friends are reunited after twenty years to learn that their destinies are entangled with the immortal Muses and a mysterious lost jukebox.
From Vancouver to a New Orleans cemetery, roaming through Los Angeles to Las Vegas; it’s a supernatural road trip laced with rock ‘n’ roll.
Available at Amazon iTunes BN Smashwords
If you order the paperback version of The Devil’s Jukebox
through CreateSpace between now and August 31,
you’ll get 20% off!
Just use the following discount code: RR5RTBTN
…and the magic will happen.
excerpt i’ll melt the world and stop for you
A
day later, a night later. Jonathan stares at the drink in front of him. His
plan had been to go to Swampland to see a band play and then head for home,
alone, but instead he’s standing in a motel room with Pandora.
They
stare at each other. Jonathan feels dizzy. He should have gone home.
Pandora
sits on the bed, pulls a cigarette out of her purse, and lights it, slowly
looking up at Jonathan. She motions for him to sit next to her. He sits back in
the chair by the window, which is cracked open and lets in a thin stream of
blue neon light and a constant murmur of traffic moving down Sunset Boulevard.
Jonathan
shakes his head. He has to ask: “Where have you been?”
“Nowhere.”
A thin stream of smoke slices across the room. “Drink?”
Jonathan
nods. She pours them each a glass of whiskey, and he just keeps watching her.
She pulls a curtain aside and gazes out the window. Suddenly he feels the urge
to reach out, touch her. He stares into his drink instead. She turns and smiles.
“It
has been a long time, hasn’t it Johnny?”
She
kneels down on the floor in front of him, cigarette in one hand and a drink in
the other, wrists resting on Jonathan’s knees.
The
blue light slides across her like a shadow of pain.
He
wants to lean forwards and kiss her. She wants him to. There’s a hint of a
smile on her lips, the one he doesn’t trust.
“You’re
not going to make this easy for me are you?” she asks.
“This
is going to end badly,” Jonathan replies.
“I
know. It’ll end in tears; everything does. But why worry about the ending? The
beginning is always so sweet.”
Jonathan
shakes his head, and she reaches up to touch the side of his face. She stands,
pulling Jonathan up with her.
“I
need another drink,” he says.
Pandora
steps back and slides a hand down his chest, lingers, and then turns towards
the bottle. He should leave.
“Pandora…”
“No,
you aren’t going yet. You came here to talk to me, so let’s talk. I promise I
won’t bite.”
“Right.”
She
laughs. “Have you decided?”
Not
really… “Yes. But I need a little more time.”
“You
aren’t planning anything… sneaky, are you?” Pandora slides back, moving against
Jonathan.
“No,
but Phillip knows that you’re back, and I’m supposed to find you.”
Pandora
grins, snakelike. “I’ll tell you what, my little Johnny Jewel. You don’t find
me, and I’ll give you what you want.”
“That’s
all?” Jonathan asks.
Pandora
moves behind him, pressing against his back. Her hands on his shoulders, her
lips right against his neck, whispering, “And maybe, maybe you’ll let me know
where his precious little jukebox is? You can be my secret agent man…”
Jonathan
shivers, and he can’t tell if it’s from desire or fear. Probably both. He
doesn’t want to do this, not to Phillip, not to Kalinda, but if he can buy more
time, he might be able to figure a way out.
He
nods, slowly, and Pandora sits on the bed. Jonathan sits back in the chair. She
reaches out with the bottle, he answers with his empty glass.
“I
thought you were in New York,” Jonathan says.
“I
was, but what I need isn’t there.”
“I
guess it wasn’t in Denver either, unless you’re just following me.”
“Oh
Johnny, I didn’t follow you, I was just passing through.”
“I
don’t know about that.” Jonathan stares at the glass in his hand, shakes his
head. “Why don’t you put on some music?”
“Changing
the subject?”
“Hopefully.”
Soft,
slow, and sad, the music moves out and mixes with the blue light, the cigarette
smoke.
True
love travels on a gravel road.
Jonathan
feels the haze of the motel room slip inside his head. Everything shifts
slightly and the world is pushed into a soft blur. It’s kind of relaxing.
Pandora
stands next to him and puts a hand on his back. He’s finding it very hard to
focus.
“Pandora.”
She
leans in closer. “Remember how we were in Denver?”
“I
remember. But you left.”
“I
always leave.”
“I
can’t do this anymore.”
“Why
not? You’ve got nobody else.”
“That’s
not exactly true.”
“Then
why are you here?”
Jonathan
isn’t sure how to answer. The warmth, the night, the look in her eyes as she
pulls him back towards the bed. He should leave; he can’t leave. He feels like
the world is spinning too fast, while the room is moving in the opposite
direction, slow motion. A blur of desire.
He
feels like he’s been drugged. He wouldn’t put it past her, but he does wonder
why.
As
a lit cigarette slowly burns away a tight line of red slides softly into his
view. There’s a slick shine against the contrast of her pale veins and faraway
eyes. A cross slowly takes shape on the curve of her arm; blood pulling memory
out of skin. The cigarette, forgotten, burns away. Red leaves soft marks on the
bed. She whispers Jonathan’s name, wants relief from the pain. His hands soothe
her arm and then down across her chest, leaving four red streaks that glisten
on her smooth stomach. Such pale skin.
She
turns, facing him. Her fingers move up and under his shirt. She whispers
against his ear, “Stay with me.”
“Pandora.”
He
doesn’t miss her; he does miss what they had.
Some
of what they had.
Pandora
has a way of getting to him. A touch, a look, a whisper. She knows it too.
Jonathan stretches out, wishing, wanting, getting caught in flashes of
flesh-colored memories. Her lips yearning, his fingers sliding…
He’s
pressing his mouth against the warmth of her neck. He breathes in her pulse.
His hands, his fingers, move down, feeling her breathe. Touching the scar on
her belly like a funeral procession, and down…
They
move in silence and memory. Jonathan knows this shouldn’t be happening, but he
knows it has to. He tries to sit up, but he can’t seem to move.
Pandora
whispers, “Just stay.”
Her
figure curls soft around his memory, and he’s holding onto nothing again.
About the Author:
Marcel Feldmar was born in Vancouver, moved to Boulder, ended up in Denver, went back to Vancouver, moved to Seattle, and ended up in Los Angeles. He is married with three dogs, and enjoys well made cocktails. He is also a coffee addict and an ex-drummer for too many bands to mention. He recently traded in his drumsticks for a couple of pens, and proceeded to complete his first novel. The Paranormal Pop Fiction tale entitled The Devil’s Jukebox.
August 18 Interview
Shut Up & Read
August 18 Top Ten Songs on the Jukebox
Darkest Cravings
August 19 Guest blog
Roxanne’s Realm
August 19 Interview
Eclipse Reviews
August 20 Spotlight
Books and Tales
August 20 Interview
The Creatively Green Write at Home Mom
August 21 Interview
Pembroke Sinclair.
August 21 Spotlight
Lisa’s World of Books
August 22 Guest blog
Mythical Books
August 22 Spotlight
Deal Sharing Aunt
August 25 Interview
The Word at My Fingertips
August 25 Spotlight
Fang-tastic Books
0 comments:
Post a Comment