all of us gather here year after year, carving out the time to be together where the crowd was underage and the only schedule we had to keep was naptime.
Some years, our best hits were written at my dining room table.
Other years, the only thing we wrote were grocery lists when the kids ran us out of milk.
As long as we had the week together, we were happy.
I held Zoe’s gloved hand and knew I was the happiest of all.
Acknowledgments
First and foremost, thank you to my Heavenly Father for blessing me beyond my wildest dreams.
Thank you to my husband, Jason, for getting me through the insanity that has been 2020 and every other year I’ve been lucky enough to call you mine. Thank you to my children, who never cease to amaze me with their ability to adapt to every new situation—including quarantine—with grace and love.
Thank you to Devney Perry and Sarina Bowen for inviting me into this collaboration and never batting an eye when life went topsy-turvy. You’ve both taught me so much!
Thank you to Karen Grove, for dealing with my squirrel of a brain. I never worry when I know you’re coming behind me with edits. To Jenn Wood for dropping everything to copy edit, and to Sarah Hansen for the phenomenal cover. To my phenomenal agent, Louise Fury, who makes my life easier simply by standing at my back.
Thank you to my wifeys, our unholy trinity, Gina Maxwell and Cindi Madsen, who always pick up the phone. To Jay Crownover for being my safe place and the wolf to my rabbit. To Shelby and Mel for putting up with my unicorn brain. Thank you to Linda Russell for chasing the squirrels, bringing the bobby pins, and holding me together on days I’m ready to fall apart. To Cassie Schlenk for reading this as I wrote it and always being the number one hype-girl. To every blogger and reader who has taken a chance on me over the years. To my reader group, The Flygirls, for giving me a safe space.
Lastly, because you’re my beginning and end, thank you again to my Jason. None of this would be possible without you.
Enjoy the first chapters of
Books One and Two in the
Hush Note Series
LIES AND LULLABIES
By Sarina Bowen
and
RIFTS AND REFRAINS
By Devney Perry
LIES AND LULLABIES
By Sarina Bowen
Chapter One
Jonas
Pine boughs scraped against the windows of the forty-five-foot tour bus as it crept along the last half mile of the dirt road. By the time the driver came to a stop outside the Nest Lake Lodge, I was already on my feet. And when the door swung open, I jumped out to taste the Maine air.
This was the moment of truth. I inhaled deeply, taking in the summery scent of lake water and lilacs.
Yes! It still smelled the same. That was a good sign.
Slowly, others began to trickle off the bus behind me. First came Quinn, our drummer. She stretched her legs without comment. But then Nixon, our lead guitar, stepped down and began to laugh. “No shit, man. Really? We drove a hundred miles out of our way for this?”
“Hey! Trust me.” I smiled at my two best friends. “Nest Lake is magic.” At least it had been once upon a time. And that was why we were here. This detour was supposed to help me remember the last time I’d been truly happy. Before I wrote another album, I needed to convince myself that happiness wasn’t impossible.
“Christ.” Nixon pulled his T-shirt down over his tattooed abs. “Where’s the bar? Where are the women?”
I took a moment to examine my oldest friend, and I didn’t like what I saw. A pale, tired face with dark circles under the eyes. ’Twas the season to worry about Nixon.
Most people looked forward to the summertime, but not him. Summer was when Quinn and I watched Nix for signs of a breakdown. From June till September—usually in the midst of a grueling tour—Nixon would trade his beer for whiskey. He would sleep too much and brood too long.
It was only Memorial Day Weekend, and already the man looked hollow. Not good.
I put a hand on Nixon’s shoulder. “Think of this as a couple of days off, okay? There’s nothing here but trees and the lake. You can thank me later.”
He eyed the lodge’s low-slung roofline with suspicion. “Have we fallen on hard times? Should I be worried?”
They both stared at me, but I didn’t give a damn. “Forty-eight hours,” I told them. “No TV, no cell