Title: This Song is Not For You
Author: Laura Nowlin
Publishers: Sourcebooks Fire
Release Date: January 5th, 2016
BLURB supplied by Sourcebooks Fire
Ramona fell for Sam the moment she met him. It was like
she had known him forever. He’s one of the few constants in her life, and their
friendship is just too important to risk for a kiss. Though she really wants to
kiss him…
Sam
loves Ramona, but he would never expect her to feel the same way—she’s too
quirky and cool for someone like him. Still, they complement each other
perfectly, both as best friends and as a band.
Then
they meet Tom. Tom makes music too, and he’s the band’s missing piece. The three
quickly become inseparable. Except Ramona’s falling in love with Tom. But she
hasn’t fallen out of love with Sam either. How can she be true to her
feelings without breaking up the band?
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Laura Nowlin holds a B.A. in English with an emphasis in Creative Writing from Missouri State University. When she isn’t at home agonizing over her own novels, Laura works at the public library, where the patrons give her plenty of inspiration for her writing. She lives in St. Louis with her musician husband, neurotic dog, and psychotic cat.
AUTHOR LINKS
EXCERPT
SAM
Tom was plugging in what looked
like a set of guitar pedals without a guitar. He looked up at Ramona and then
at me.
“You
know that video you guys posted last week?” he said. “I came up with something
that I think would sound cool with that, if you wanna mess around with it.”
I shrugged.
“Sure,” Ramona said. She played a
drumroll and I headed over to my guitar and put it back on. I turned my back to
them and strummed the high E string. Behind me I heard Ramona start to swing
into the song’s tempo.
I try as hard
as I can to not watch Ramona when she’s playing. I mean, it’s not possible to
never look at her, because so much of playing together is about communicating
without talking. But I try to look at Ramona as little as I can.
Ramona is really talented. And
determined.
She doesn’t care when playing
makes her sweaty and messes up her hair.
And she makes these faces.
I was saved
from remembering some specific times I’ve seen Ramona during practice by a
noise behind me. It was like wind chimes. Alien wind chimes from a robot
planet. I looked over my shoulder. Tom was bent over the pedals and the chaos
something. He was making this haunting electronic sound. I could hear where my
guitar would fit in. I started the opening chords for the song. I closed my
eyes and focused on Ramona’s drumming. My body began to move with the time she
set. The sound of her stick striking the tom hit my back again and again.
Ramona.
***
Whenever Ramona eats candy, she
arranges it by color first. It’s not like an obsessive--compulsive thing. She
just thinks it’s fun. She usually doesn’t like anything orange, so she often
gives those to me. Greens are her favorites.
Her sneeze is really weird. She
scrunches up her face and makes a noise like a tiny snort. It’s like she’s
trying to stop the sneeze from getting away.
Ramona’s
mother started giving her piano lessons when she was four. She died when Ramona
was nine, and her father hired someone from the academy to give her lessons
after that. She still has private lessons, and she never talks about her
mother.
We like to watch really bad shows
together so we can make fun of the dialogue. Shows about psychics solving
crimes are the most fun. Ramona is really good at predicting what the psychics
will say next.
Ramona can’t stand people who put
up a false front. “Poseur” is her darkest insult.
She’s fun, and she’s real.
Ramona’s an assertive girl, and if
she was into me as more than a friend, she would have just said so a long time
ago. She’s trusted me with her friendship, and I’m not going to ever put that
at risk.
***
I turned around.
From over her kit, Ramona met my
eyes. She grinned and bit her lip. We sounded good. Tom filled out the song
without drowning either of us out. I could tell the guy knows what he’s doing.
Ramona played a fill, closed her eyes, and threw her head back.
I turned away again.
***
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