LAUREL CANYON Music, Magic, Murder and even Ghosts

Rising Sun, Half Moon, Rock Stars

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Releasing May 2014

LAUREL CANYON Music, Magic, Murder and even Ghosts

Infamous names, including Dave Grohl and Jennifer Anniston, have always lived in modest homes in the hills of Laurel Canyon—well, present time, there are some monstrous mansions.


But during most of the 60’s and part of the 70’s, the area filled with musicians. British bands touring the States partied with other bands in Laurel Canyon, and some never left. An unusual amount of music superstars and emerging rock bands responsible for many hit songs took up residence or extended visits in the area. Many more were regulars at parties.

In a bygone era, members of The Monkees, The Byrds, Fleetwood Mac, The Eagles, The Doors  many, many more (seriously, one day I may blog the many faces of Laurel Canyon).

With all of these up and coming and already arrived superstars, it is only natural that LA’s most celebrated groupie, the woman who set the obsessive determination standard from groupies to come, would be a regular face in Laurel Canyon.

The canyon with the night sounds of coyotes and owls seemed a world away and was yet only five minutes away from Sunset Strip’s neon clubs. Its peacefulness is what drew celebrities wanting to hide away and party in private. There was nothing to fear except the occasional sighting of a ghost carriage near the Houdini Mansion, causing an occasional car wreck. This would all change at the turn of the decade with a series of tragic events, and a string of accidental deaths of former residents and regulars. (this could also be an entire blog in itself)
 

Why am I blogging Laurel Canyon? It is the home of fictional Jules Breaux rebellious teen  turned talented musician who is the heroine of Six Silver Strings Series D-String Set releasing May 2014.

A Ghostly Excerpt

Driving down The Boulevard of Broken Dreams, she took care, watching the lights and the light flow of traffic. She made the right from Sunset onto Laurel Canyon. With her foot barely depressing the gas, she glued her eyes to her headlights as they illuminated the steep road, curve after curve.

Coasting to a stop before turning onto Lookout Mountain, she noted the empty bus stop, and debated on lighting another cigarette. It was in that moment, when she glanced from the bus stop, back to the road ahead, that it happened.

The mythical horse and carriage apparition. In her imagination, the horses, and the carriage had always both been white, wispy, ghostly. But tonight, the horses were a majestic white, and the carriage black. Seeming to come out of nowhere, it lumbered across the road, and if she had blinked her eyes, in that time it was gone. 

But she was sure she hadn't blinked.

The blare of a car horn from behind jerked her from her state of shock, and she lifted her head from the steering wheel… wait, when had she dropped her head to the wheel? And when had a car pulled up behind her?

Forcing calming breaths into her lungs, she moved her foot from the break to the gas.

At last, she unclenched her knuckles from the steering wheel long enough to punch the code into the gate before pulling into her driveway in relief…

…Stumbled out of the car…

…Stumbled up steps and stairs… through the dark night… down the dark hallway…

…Tripped on more than one stair…

…A fearful eye stayed on the third story stairwell, which led to the master bedroom and her sleeping mother. Finally, she was easing her bedroom door closed.

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