It Was Always Love

A wall in my bedroom
A wall in my bedroom

I'm a writer. There has always been something cathartic in telling a story. So in the midst of incredible sadness I am sharing my story with you.

My partner says that she went to the movies with a friend one day to see whatever show happened to be playing and ended up seeing Purple Rain, a movie that changed her forever. From that moment on she was obsessed--still is--and thanks Prince for much of the joy she's had in her life.

My path was not as direct. He had to touch my life three times before I listened.

1979

Thank you for a funky time, call me  up...

On my way to high school driving the first of two cars given to me by my father, the song I Wanna Be Your Lover came on. The music was okay, but the lyrics made my head spin. Chock full of double entendres (I wanna be the only one to make you come...running), I couldn't get it out of my head for days. But trying to balance my perfectionist compulsion with wanting to fit in with my peers had turned high school into a three year long hurricane for me. I had a hard enough time holding on to my shit--I couldn't add one more thing to my burden.

1984

Somebody please tell me what the hell is wrong

The second time I became aware of Prince was when Purple Rain came out. I was newly married and in an unfamiliar place with no friends. I don't have memory of going to or being in the theater (my memory often fails me when it comes to very emotional moments), but I remember  buying a beta max copy of the movie as soon as it came out. I coveted that fat short rectangular box (I still have it), but for reasons I can't explain, I never watched it.

The third time, as they say, was the charm.

1987

In my darkest hour, you can be my bliss

I took a job two hours away from my home and my husband and lived with my mother. I had a great time. I loved my job, had some adventures with my mom (like driving 45 minutes to buy a pizza that boasted cheese UNDER the sauce, not over it), and spent time with my sister and brother and their families. Moreover, every other weekend I honeymooned with my husband. Life moved along pretty smoothly.

Except at night. I started having nightmares. At first they came infrequently, and I barely remembered them. As time went on they grew more frequent and more horrifying. Eventually I had bad dreams every night. There seemed to be two themes--black roses and elevators. Black rose dreams woke me up crying.  Elevator dreams were worse.

I know now that I was reliving sexual abuse I'd experienced as a child. I was in the same room, largely unchanged--the purple walls I'd begged for, music and academic awards (evidence of my hyper-vigilent perfection), and the bed. The bed.

Any time I was alone with my thoughts I thought about dying. What death would feel like. All the years of my nephews and nieces lives that I'd miss. Pieces of my nightmares started to come to me during the day. I searched continually for distractions, trying to save myself. One day I saw an ad in the newspaper about an upcoming Prince concert. I remembered his movie and that song, and how they made me feel. I really wanted to go, but not alone. My sister told me her husband was a big fan (her, not so much) and that he'd probably go with me if I had my heart set. He did.

October 1988

Do you want him, or do you want me?

We had tickets in the Nosebleed Section because we'd gotten them so late, but it didn't matter. The entire arena was filled by the presence of the little, ethereally beautiful man on the stage. I was captivated--couldn't take my eyes off of him. But the music transformed me. He sang of love and sensuality and peace and God and sex. His voice resonated, reverberated throughout my body. I sometimes make a joke, saying if he'd asked me that night for all of my worldly possessions I would have given them to him. But it was the truth.

The next day I went to every record store I could find and bought every tape Prince had ever released. I drove around for hours listening to his music. He didn't become "the soundtrack of my life". He became my reason to keep living.

1991

I want to jump for joy and thank him I'm not alone

I'd gotten a bigger and better job and moved back with my husband. While stalking a record store (my new hobby), I came across Prince's official fan magazine, Controversy. Not only was it heaven on the page with big, color, never before seen pictures of him, but it had a pen pal section. Suddenly, I wasn't alone. I'd found my tribe--men and women who experienced Prince the way I did.  Miraculously, the first person I connected with became my partner. I like to say Prince gave her to me.

Present day

Can't begin to understand how I feel about you, everything I want to do I can't do without you

My life is filled with good friends who I connect with over songs and youtube clips, through marriages and divorce, through children and grandchildren, over the mountains that life put in front of our best efforts and under the bridges that we've fallen from. When we're happy, we listen to his music and watch his movies. When we're sad, we do the same. Since his passing, we cling to each other and assure ourselves we'll get through this, and that we'll find joy again.

FullSizeRender 4
FullSizeRender 4

I've seen Prince in concert over one hundred times. I have every song he's released, and sometimes multiple versions thereof. My partner and I celebrate his milestones--birthdays, awards, performances. Our annual Super Bowl parties celebrate his 2007 award-winning appearance. Many of our milestones are commemorated with concerts that hold special meaning. There is not one room in our home in which he's not evident, either in fact or by influence. (We're still trying to figure out how to put the Shower Poster in the bathroom.)

My friends and I are asking questions of ourselves and each other. Where do we go from  here? Who will we be, if not Prince Fans? How will it feel to not look forward to his next album, the next concert, the next TV appearance?

The only answer is that his music is a part of us. It's in our cells and are the songs in the background of everything. Our experiences with him and because of him live on.

  • Getting his autograph in NYC and almost fainting because we thought he'd levitated, a tiny angel dressed in white.
  • Nearly being "rear-ended" by him in MPLS because he was driving too fast and we were going too slow.
  • Hearing gunshot and fearing for our lives as we left Glam Slam, his former club.
  • Flying to England for concerts and spending a sleepless night at the only after show I've attended.
  • Going to his store in MPLS so many times the manager told his staff "Play whatever videos they want to see".
  • Grieving with him, from a distance, when he lost his child.
  • Meeting our pen pals. (LOVE YOU ALL)
  • Standing outside at 2am in line for a show, with some of the craziest and friendliest people we've ever met.

Never say the words "They're gone"

The world is off its axis. I already miss him. My heart aches, and in quiet moments it's hard to breathe. I'm not ready to watch all of the tributes. I can't even listen to his songs without overwhelming sadness. But I'm ready, finally, to say a few things to him.

Dearest Prince,

I am ever grateful for the beautiful ways you've touched (saved) my life and for all of the people that are in it because of you. I'm thankful for your music which fuels my soul. 

There was no way you could have known, but it was always love. I've been blessed to have shared the planet with you.

I wish you heaven. 

The Devil Made Me: A Review

Lucifer has stolen my heart. That’s not a statement you hear every day. And I haven’t always felt this way. I try to watch at least the first episode of all new programs that have a supernatural element. Finding them on TV isn’t always easy but On Demand helps.

And not all get second views.

Lucifer almost did not get that second view. The show started out too predictable with the trope I hate…two men vying for the attention of the single woman. Early in the program I had told my partner that I didn’t think this was going to be a keeper.

Credit:Fox Television

I am not sure exactly when my opinion changed. Maybe it was to his loyalty to his friend Delilah? Maybe it was Maze? More likely it was his interaction with Linda. I love hearing the secret desires of these characters and his determination to see the bad people punished. His brazen behavior became humorous and his smarmy smile became endearing.

I’ve read that certain groups have tried to have the show cancelled and when it didn’t air one Monday night, I was afraid they had succeeded. After a bit of research I learned that the show was bought by HULU, which I do not get. So, I lost my On Demand option. But for now at least I have a reason to look forward to Monday night television  again

DRESS UP/DRESS DOWN WITH MARCIA JAMES

It's my pleasure to welcome Marcia James to the Living After Midnight Blog, to tell us about the meaningful attire worn in her novella, "Nothing But a Hound Dog."

ADOPT, DON'T SHOP: My Characters Proudly Wear Their Convictions

Cindi Landon, the heroine of my novella, "Nothing But a Hound Dog," is the director of the animal shelter in Jenkins, a small North Carolina town. As a hands-on, pro-animal advocate, she works alongside her staff. That means dressing in jeans and shelter t-shirts. One day, she might be working with dogs rescued from a hoarding situation. The next day, she might be meeting with families looking to find the perfect pet. There's nothing she likes more than to rescue and then place a homeless pet in its forever home.

After a night of raucous partying following a rodeo and concert in Jenkins, country music bad boy (and the hero of my novella), Ryan "Rowdy"Gates, is sentenced to community service at the shelter. Like the rest of the staff and volunteers, he wears jeans and shelter t-shirts while he helps out—whether it's cleaning dog runs or bottle-feeding an abandoned Basset Hound puppy he names Buddy. The shelter t-shirts sport different pro-adoption slogans, which start out as abstract concepts to Ryan, then become his conviction after he witnesses pets living on the streets or being surrendered to the shelter.

While researching my novella (which is the third in my "Klein's K-9s Service Dog" series and currently featured in the Love Notes ebook box set), I found quite a few wonderful, pro-adoption slogans, including, "Rescue: It's Not Just a Verb. It's a Promise."; "Paws to Love a Rescue Pet."; and "The Best Things in Life are Rescued." Being pro-adoption myself, I was happy to include many of the slogans in my novella. In fact, I have rescue dogs, cats, and the occasional pot-bellied pig in all of my books. These fictional pets add so much to the plot and reveal in my two-legged characters a love for animals that makes readers root for them to find their happily ever after.

Of course, "Nothing But a Hound Dog" has a happy ending, with Cindi offering Ryan something he's never had—a home, a family, and unconditional love. And, of course, they adopt Buddy the Basset Hound.

Nothingbutahounddog_Kindle"Nothing But a Hound Dog" Excerpt:

When the puppy was sleeping soundly, Shauna, the shelter's volunteer supervisor, stood to go. "Why don't you stay here and hold him, so he'll know he's not alone. The best thing for this little boy is food and sleep. And while you're sitting here, think of a name for him." Shauna left, heading down the hall toward the dog runs.

Ryan looked at the puppy. Somehow the usual dog names—Spot, Rover, and the like—didn't seem right. So he gently rocked the puppy while he considered other names. He began to hum, something he often did when working out a problem. Then he started softly singing the song Elvis had made famous, "Hound Dog."

The puppy had been twitching, as though having a bad dream, but he settled down when he heard the song. Obviously, he had good taste in music. Ryan smiled. He could name the puppy Elvis, but it didn't seem to fit.

Ryan segued into Buddy Holly's "Everyday," a personal favorite. The little guy's mouth opened in a doggie grin. Maybe he should name him after the singer?

He stopped singing and said, "Buddy."

The puppy's ears twitched. Each time he said the name, he got the same reaction. So it was settled. Ryan christened him Buddy the Basset Hound.

 

Cindi stood in the clinic doorway, watching Ryan sing softly to the poor little thing. It was so poignant that her heart swelled and tears pricked her eyes. The tough kid from high school had grown into an admirable man who could gently rock a puppy and—according to what Shauna had told her—befriend and feed Andy, a troubled teenager who volunteered at the shelter.

God help her, she might be falling in love with Ryan.

She doubted he would appreciate her getting misty-eyed over him, so she simply listened until she got her emotions under control. He was singing the Buddy Holly song, "Words of Love." Cindi was a sucker for 1950s' pop music, so she joined in.

Startled by her voice, Ryan stopped and blushed, actually blushed. "Uh, the puppy settles down when I sing to him."

"He must be a fan of oldies, like me." She sat next to Ryan and gazed at the puppy. "He looks better already. Did he eat yet?"

"I bottle-fed him with Shauna's help. And I named him Buddy."

Buddy. It was perfect for the little pup. Suddenly, she remembered why she was there and stood again. "Speaking of eating, I came to get you. Your massive order from the Asian fusion place on Main has arrived. If you want any before the shelter hordes scarf it down, you better come with me."

Holding the puppy in a towel, Ryan got up from the chair without disturbing the Basset Hound's sleep. "I need to take Buddy with me. Shauna says he can hear my heart."

A warmth spread through her chest, and Cindi turned to the doorway before her face revealed what she was feeling. She was a sucker for a man who cared for animals.

Love Notes 3DBuy links for "Nothing But a Hound Dog" in the Love Notes box set:

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1SFYWOA

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1PvSMdq Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/1ZWZ151 Amazon AU: http://bit.ly/1RHjuWX Itunes: http://apple.co/1nhJc7p B&N: http://bit.ly/1TdXXom Kobo: http://bit.ly/1Sa9pAr

Author Bio & Links:

Marcia James finaled in eleven Romance Writers of America contests before selling her first contemporary romance. Her releases include Sex & the Single Therapist (the first in a comic romantic mystery series) and the "Klein's K-9s Service Dogs" contemporary romance series. She is a national and international ebook bestseller, who writes hot, humorous romances featuring heroines you can root for, heroes to die for, and funny dogs.

In her eclectic career, Marcia has shot submarine training videos, organized celebrity-filled nonprofit events and had her wedding covered by People Magazine. After years of dealing with such sexy topics as how to safely install traffic lights, she is enjoying “researching” and plotting her novels' steamy love scenes with her husband and hero of many years.

Website: www.MarciaJames.net

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarciaJamesAuthor

Twitter: http://twitter.com/Marcia_James

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/marciajames/

Amazon Author Central page: www.amazon.com/author/marciajames