{"id":3358,"date":"2014-03-11T08:00:36","date_gmt":"2014-03-11T13:00:36","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/christineamsden.com\/wordpress\/?p=3358"},"modified":"2014-03-07T14:19:22","modified_gmt":"2014-03-07T20:19:22","slug":"aaron-paul-lazars-lady-blues","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/christineamsden.com\/wordpress\/?p=3358","title":{"rendered":"Aaron Paul Lazar’s Lady Blues"},"content":{"rendered":"

I’m pleased to introduce my friend, Aaron Paul Lazar, here today to share a bit about his vision for his latest book, Lady Blues. There’s also a sneak peak at chapter one!<\/p>\n


\n\"Author<\/a>A Miracle Cure for Alzheimer\u2019s Disease?<\/strong><\/p>\n

I can\u2019t help myself.<\/p>\n

I wrote about a fictitious cure for leukemia in Essentially Yours (Tall Pines Mysteries, book #2) because my cousin suffers from this dreaded disease and I wanted so badly for someone to find a cure. I can\u2019t help but imagine the day when a real cure arrives, and somehow, I was compelled to write about it.<\/p>\n

My grandmother died from Alzheimer\u2019s Disease at the age of ninety, in 1997. This woman was a powerhouse of personality. I based my character Maddy Cot\u00e9 in the LeGarde Mysteries on her flamboyant and gushing mannerisms in Gram\u2019s honor.<\/p>\n

Gram was a real rebel for her day. Imagine a \u201cgrandmother\u201d DYING her hair BLOND in the fifties! Whoa, now that was a shocker. She always wore colorful outfits, loud chunky jewelry, gave loud smacking kisses, and smashed me to her bosom when she saw me. And worst and most shocking of all, my grandmother drank BEER. Yes, a green bottle of Narragansett accompanied every meal.<\/p>\n

Indeed. She was one wild woman.<\/p>\n

And I adored her.<\/p>\n

I will never forget how the illness stole her away from us, and how I felt the first time she didn\u2019t remember me. I also remember the intensely personal and amazing moment when I sang one of \u201cour songs,\u201d to her, and she came back to me for just a few minutes, calling me by name and saying \u201cIsn\u2019t it nice to be with family?\u201d just before the curtain fell again and she disappeared forever.<\/p>\n

Sigh. It still makes me very sad.<\/p>\n

So, here I am seventeen years later, making up a miracle cure for the dreaded disease that has affected so many people. I just hope it\u2019s prophetic.<\/p>\n

In Lady Blues: forget-me-not, my protagonist Gus LeGarde, befriends an elderly gentleman, Kip Sterling, in a new nursing home for Alzheimer\u2019s patients.<\/p>\n

Gus refers to himself as \u201ca hopeless romantic, a Renaissance man caught in the twenty-first century.\u201d\u00a0No stranger to passion or heartache, Gus lavishes love on his family and dog as he mourns the loss of his lifetime soul mate, Elsbeth, in the first book of the series, Double Fort\u00e9.\u00a0He teaches music at Conaroga University, imparting the love of the classics to his young students.\u00a0Gus is passionate about French Impressionist painters, gardening, and cooking lavish gourmet meals for his family and friends.\u00a0His rambling, 1811 Greek Revival farm house lies among the rolling hills and bucolic splendor of the Genesee Valley.\u00a0He plays Chopin etudes to clear his mind and feed his soul, and has an impeccable inner moral compass.\u00a0By the time we get to Lady Blues, book ten in the series, he has fallen in love with and married Camille Cot\u00e9, Maddy\u2019s daughter.<\/p>\n

Now, back to our story about the miracle.<\/p>\n

When a new drug called Memorphyl starts working on Kip and memories start to bubble to the surface in this fascinating fellow, all kinds of trouble is stirred up. But one persistent memory keeps on bugging him, and he asks Gus for help.<\/p>\n

Back in 1946, Kip lost the love of his life, Miss Arabella Mae Dubois, affectionately known as Bella, a lusty and talented blues singer he met in the Harlem clubs. Kip is obsessed with finding her, and Gus promises to help.<\/p>\n

Now that I think about it, the Bella I created here actually has quite a bit in common with my grandmother, personality-wise. Hmm. Interesting parallels, I think. Bella and Kip, a biracial couple in a very intolerant age, were quite the rebels, themselves.<\/p>\n

Wouldn’t it be great if someday, somewhere, somehow, we really do get a cure for Alzheimer\u2019s? What if all the memories came pouring back, and patients in nursing homes began to be released back to their families?<\/p>\n

I love the idea. Hey, maybe if I write about it enough, it\u2019ll come true someday!<\/p>\n

Buy NOW at Amazon Lady Blues: forget-me-not: A Gus LeGarde Mystery (LeGarde Mysteries)<\/a>\"\"<\/p>\n

Lady Blues<\/strong><\/h1>\n

Chapter One<\/h1>\n

\"Blank<\/a>I<\/b><\/span><\/span> strolled along Main Street<\/span><\/span> with Siegfried, my best friend and brother-in-law, unable to shake the song repeating in my head. I\u2019d played it for my Opera 101 class yesterday at school, and since then, kept hearing Marcelo Alvarez singing \u201cChe gelida manina,\u201d from <\/span>La Boheme<\/i><\/span>. Because Camille and I had seen him perform in this role last fall in New York City, it made me long for Lincoln Center, or at least a really good hot pastrami sandwich from a decent deli. <\/span><\/p>\n

Why I thought of food at that particular moment was a mystery, because we\u2019d just finished a big breakfast of scrambled eggs, home fries, and bacon at Clara\u2019s Diner. I shrugged and let the warm spring air caress my face and bare arms. The sun felt good after the lingering cold of March. I reveled in the feeling of freedom, happy to have no appointments or chores looming in the near future, and looking forward to a leisurely stop in the village bookstore.<\/span><\/p>\n

A warm breeze teased across the Genesee Valley, filling me with a curious sense of exhilaration. Just past the bagel shop, from the top of the ridge where our historic village of Conaroga, New York perched, I stopped for a minute to enjoy the view. Rolling hills swelled in the distance, coated green with winter wheat. <\/span><\/p>\n

I wanted to stay put and soak it all in, but Siegfried was rapidly disappearing into the crowded street. With his blond ponytail swaying behind him, his long legs ate up the ground. <\/span><\/p>\n

I hurried after him. \u201cHey, buddy. What\u2019s going on?\u201d I wasn\u2019t sure why our trip to the bookstore warranted such an effort. <\/span><\/p>\n

He frowned, walking faster.<\/span> \u201cJa.\u201d<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

What kind of an answer was that? Had he even heard me?<\/i><\/span> \u201cSig? You okay?\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

I loped for a few paces and caught up with him. Rushing along the sidewalk in front of Victorian homes with deep porches and brightly-colored gables, we finally reached the commercial part of the village, jogging side by side past quaint shop windows offering flowers, travel dreams, gourmet pizza, and works of art. <\/span><\/p>\n

A bus belched smoke and rumbled past us, its gears grinding. The advertisement on its broad side read, \u201cGot Milk?\u201d Beneath the text, a smiling actress wore a milk mustache. <\/span><\/p>\n

I glanced down at my black tee shirt. The slogan, \u201cGot Opera?\u201d had produced a few confused grins from customers at the diner, where Siegfried and I enjoyed our breakfast. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHey, what\u2019s the hurry, big fella?\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

Siegfried didn\u2019t answer. <\/span><\/p>\n

I wasn\u2019t sure why he seemed so distracted, but I responded when he motioned for me to quicken my pace because over the years, I\u2019d learned to trust his sixth sense and recognized something in his expression that spelled danger.<\/span><\/p>\n

We crossed the street, almost at a run now. Siegfried frowned at something on the other side of the road. I followed his line of sight and realized he wasn\u2019t headed for the bookstore, but for Thom Kim\u2019s tailor shop. <\/span><\/p>\n

Siegfried had been doing a lot of business there lately. A man of his height required the help of a tailor from time to time, but he\u2019d found dozens of excuses for alterations in the past few months. A loose button here, a burst seam there. He\u2019d been visiting the shop almost twice a week, and I wondered why.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhy are we hurrying?\u201d I asked again. <\/span><\/p>\n

He burst into a sprint, shouting now. \u201cLook!\u201d He lunged ahead of me, his sea blue eyes trained on the top floor of the building. <\/span><\/p>\n

I smelled it before I saw it, then looked up. <\/span><\/p>\n

Smoke. <\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

It poured from the upper floor where Thom Kim lived with his sister, Lily. Although the street teemed with people, no one seemed to have noticed the smoke. We careened along the sidewalk, pushing through shoppers and students. <\/span><\/p>\n

Cursing because I left my cell phone in the car, I grabbed the nearest student texting on his phone. He stared at me through black dreadlocks as if I were attacking him. Which I guess I was, in a way. <\/span><\/p>\n

I pointed up. \u201cCall 911. Tell them there\u2019s a fire.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

The crowd parted, staring and pointing at the smoky building. The boy with the phone gawked at me, as if locked in a trance. <\/span><\/p>\n

I shook his arm. \u201cCall 911!\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

In that instant, he came to life, stabbing at his phone. \u201cOkay. I\u2019m on it.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Siegfried and I rushed into the building. No one stood behind the sales counter or in the work area in the back of the shop. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhere are they?\u201d I said, hurriedly searching behind doors and cabinets.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cUpstairs,\u201d Siegfried said with certainty, pointing toward a back staircase.<\/span><\/p>\n

We scrambled toward the stairs, entering a cloud of thick, choking smoke.<\/span><\/p>\n

A woman\u2019s cry came from above.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cLily!\u201d Siegfried shouted, covering his mouth and nose with his shirt. He scaled the steps two at a time with me right behind him.<\/span><\/p>\n

A hoarse bellow came from the left in what had to be Korean, Thom\u2019s native language. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of movement, followed by a burning rafter crashing to the floor, but smoke quickly obscured my view. <\/span><\/p>\n

A flicker of orange flames bloomed in another doorway, flaring to the ceiling. The fire was spreading fast. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cProfessor,\u201d Siegfried yelled over the roar of the inferno, peering into the darkness. \u201cI can\u2019t see!\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

On the far side of the building, a window cracked and exploded, allowing the smoke to shift and clear just enough to give us a view of the bedroom, where I now headed to search for Thom Kim.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThere!\u201d I said, pointing to the man pinned beneath a fallen timber. <\/span><\/p>\n

Fire crackled along the wall and licked orange-red near his arm. The bed, fully engulfed, leapt with flames.<\/span><\/p>\n

A scream erupted farther down the hall. <\/span><\/p>\n

Lily.<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGet her!\u201d I shouted over my shoulder, stumbling toward Thom. <\/span><\/p>\n

Siegfried quickly ducked into the smoke, following the direction of her cries. <\/span><\/p>\n

The wall of heat blasted me, nearly melting my resolve. Stooping low, I took a deep breath and crawled toward Thom. I pulled hard on his arm, but couldn\u2019t budge him. He uttered a low moan. The fire had reached him and his sleeve was starting to burn. <\/span><\/p>\n

Grabbing his jacket from a nearby chair, I slapped it over his arms, extinguishing the flames, then kicked repeatedly at the scorched beam until it finally moved. Breathless, I half-dragged, half-carried Thom out to the hall, stumbling backwards away from the fire and denser smoke. With a concerted effort, I slung him over my shoulder.<\/span><\/p>\n

A blast came from the rear of the building. <\/span><\/p>\n

Oh my God. Siegfried. Lily.<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

Horrified, I searched the smoke for my friend, shouting his name. \u201cSiegfried!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The black cloud rolled with a vengeance now, completely obscuring my vision. I struggled to breathe and reached for the stairway rail, trying to balance. Tears bathed my eyes, but failed to cool the inflamed tissues. I wanted to pull my shirt over my mouth and nose, but it was impossible with Thom on my back. I didn\u2019t want to drop him.<\/span><\/p>\n

Siegfried stumbled out of the darkness and crashed toward the stairway with Lily in his arms. Tinier than her brother, she clung to Sig\u2019s neck, still conscious. Choking with relief, I followed them down the stairs and into the street with Thom draped over my back. The fire roared above, creeping up the outer walls, and sparks fell to the sidewalk. Breathing hard, we ran away from the burning building.<\/span><\/p>\n

Wailing sirens approached in the distance. <\/span><\/p>\n

Thank God, the fire department.<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

In front of the old cinema, two students reached out to help me carry Thom farther down the street. <\/span><\/p>\n

Holding his legs, I walked with them, noticing the gash on his forehead and the angry burns on his arms and face. \u201cCareful,\u201d I said. \u201cHe\u2019s badly burned.\u201d I looked down at my own arms, which prickled and throbbed, but they weren\u2019t nearly as bad as Thom\u2019s. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAre you okay, Professor?\u201d Siegfried said, coming up close behind us.<\/span><\/p>\n

I nodded, catching my breath. \u201cI think so. You?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Still carrying Lily, he gave a curt nod in return. <\/span>\u201cJa.\u201d <\/i><\/span>Soot smeared his face and arms. His ponytail had come undone, and his hair flowed over his shoulders in a snarled tumble. Backlit by the light of the fire, he reminded me of an angel warrior.<\/span><\/p>\n

Two fire trucks shrieked to a stop in front of the burning building, delivering firemen who raced to set up the hoses. A kind young woman came toward us with a blanket, laying it on the sidewalk. She helped us gently lower Thom to the ground. <\/span><\/p>\n

The owner of the bagel shop dragged a chair onto the sidewalk, motioning to Siegfried and Lily. \u201cSet her down right here \u2018til the ambulance comes.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOkay.\u201d Siegfried tried to put her down, but she wouldn\u2019t let go. Still coughing, he stuck a hand out to stop the well-meaning spectators who tried to pry her off him. He waved them away. \u201c<\/span>Nein<\/i><\/span>. I will hold her.\u201d He dropped into the chair with Lily on his lap. <\/span><\/p>\n

Wild-eyed, she looked around with panic in her eyes. \u201cThom?\u201d A slew of words I didn\u2019t understand followed, trailed by a long bout of coughing. <\/span><\/p>\n

I tried to calm her. \u201cThom is there, Lily.\u201d I pointed toward her brother who lay on the blanket nearby. <\/span><\/p>\n

Well-meaning volunteers surrounding him and blocked her view, thankfully hiding his condition from her. Within minutes, however, an ambulance skidded around the corner and screeched to a stop twenty yards from us. The bagel shop owner ran into the swelling crowd, waving her arms to get their attention. \u201cOver here.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The van backed toward us and two EMTs leapt to the street, sprinting in our direction. <\/span><\/p>\n

Buy NOW at Amazon Lady Blues: forget-me-not: A Gus LeGarde Mystery (LeGarde Mysteries)<\/a>\"\"<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I’m pleased to introduce my friend, Aaron Paul Lazar, here today to share a bit about his vision for his latest book, Lady Blues. There’s also a sneak peak at chapter one! A Miracle Cure for Alzheimer\u2019s Disease? I can\u2019t help myself. I wrote about a fictitious cure for leukemia in Essentially Yours (Tall Pines […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[64],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3358","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-author-interviews"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/christineamsden.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3358","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/christineamsden.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/christineamsden.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/christineamsden.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/christineamsden.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3358"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/christineamsden.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3358\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3361,"href":"https:\/\/christineamsden.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3358\/revisions\/3361"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/christineamsden.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3358"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/christineamsden.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3358"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/christineamsden.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3358"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}