Guest Post from Caisey Qunn

One of the absolute craziest things about writing Loving Dallas was the fact that it was like having two male leads. Dallas himself says it best in the chapter where he explains to Robyn about “Person Dallas” and “Performer Dallas.”  The recording label he is hired onto quickly turns charming Dallas Lark from Amarillo (think: country cutie Easton Corbin) into the sexy, sharp-tongued Dallas Walker, a drifter with a shady past (think: country music outlaw Eric Church). I thought it might be fun to compare the two sides of my guy side by side!

STYLE

First up, even though he’s really just one man, Dallas has a completely different style when he’s on stage. If you were to see the laid back crooner around town, he’d be clad in a well worn-in flannel button down and his favorite pair of jeans and cowboy boots. There will likely be trucker hat providing some shade over his baby blues. However, stop in to see a show and you might not recognize him! On stage Dallas Walker rocks an edgier look including Aviators, leather jackets, and biker boots. Vintage rock band tees are a staple in the wardrobe of this version of Dallas!

SWAGGER

Dallas Lark is a caring and somewhat overprotective big brother to his little sister, Dixie. He believes women should be treated like the ladies that they are with the respect they deserve. He says Grace and he says ma’am, y’all!

Dallas Walker on the other hand is a little rougher around the edge and if you get too close you might enter a danger zone where you end up in scandalous tabloid photos alongside country music’s newest bad boy!

SWEETHEARTS

Dallas Lark will forever carry a torch for his high school sweetheart, Robyn Breeland. She is and will always be his muse.

Dallas Walker can’t be tamed or tied down and women traipse in and out of his life quicker than Billboard chart toppers change places! He does certainly pay a lot of attention to one special lady that has yet to be identified by media sources. Rumor has it she’s the one that got away!

Which version of Dallas would be your favorite kind of book boyfriend? Decide for yourself on 6.16.15 when LOVING DALLAS GOES LIVE!

Excerpt from Loving Dallas:

“I’m still me,” he’d said before falling asleep.

I’d been about to snuggle down into that blissful murkiness of sleepy time when he’d said it.

No matter how much he’d changed, Dallas was still Dallas. And maybe I had a college degree and a big-girl job, but I was still the same girl he couldn’t forgive. I’d been an idiot, pushed him away so that he wouldn’t let my mom’s illness stop him from chasing his dreams. By the time I realized how unfair it was and how much I needed him, the damage was done and Dallas Lark had moved on.

I was the one who’d needed space, but Dallas ended up being the one to walk away for good.

Forget being on the same page; Dallas and I had been reading entirely different books when it came to our relationship. In mine, there was a happily ever after that involved making a life together. He wasn’t just in my story—he was my story. In his I was merely a chapter.

I’m still me.

I wanted to smack myself. Hard. Of course he was still him. And he’d still walk away, dragging my battered heart behind him while I

watched him leave. I’d hurt him, deeply. And I’d live with that regret for the rest of my life. He’d still be the guy who chose music over me, over us. He had even more reason to now that he was on this tour.

I waited there in his arms, forcing my steel walls back up between us while he drifted into unconsciousness. Once his breathing was deep and the light rumble of a snore settled into a steady rhythm, I slipped out of his bed and gathered my things as quietly as I could. Dressing quickly, I watched him, memorizing that peaceful look on his handsome face and promising myself this was a one-time thing. I wasn’t going to obsess over it. It was a life experience, one I didn’t regret but knew I’d be crazy to repeat.

I chanced one last look as I left, before I shut the door completely. The light from the hotel hallway sliced across him and he looked so . . . alone.

I closed the door and told myself this was for the best. What would having breakfast together or sharing a cab to the airport change? Nothing, that’s what.

This time, I’d been the one to leave. For the sake of my sanity and my heart, I could never fall into bed with Dallas Lark again.

Leaving Amarillo by Caisey Quinn

Caisey Quinn talks about what inspired her to write the Neon Lights Series:

Not too long ago (barely over a year), I took a trip to Nashville with some friends. It was one of those last minute “oh my gosh, we have to see this super big artist doing a concert in a tiny venue because they just Tweeted that they’ll be there” type road trips. Unplanned, beef jerky, big gulps, and random road mix cd style adventure. My favorite kind.

However, by the time we arrived at the venue it was packed. Literally. Wall to wall crammed, people spilling out onto the sidewalk, full to maximum capacity packed. Apparently we weren’t the only ones who caught word that a big name artist was going to be there. Sigh.

We decided to just check out a few local spots instead. In a bar called Crossroads we got comfy, ordered drinks, and started chatting about how bummed we were that we didn’t get to see the original artist we intended to. I can’t even remember now who it was. Here’s why.

As we’re ordering a second—okay, maybe a third—round and deciding if we’re going to just call it a night and get a hotel room or head home (Birmingham is only about three hours away), this glorious sound fills the air. No, it pierces the air, rips through it and grabs everyone in hearing range by the eardrums.

Our conversation—along with many others—ceased instantly. Chill bumps ran up my arms even though it was quite warm and I was wearing a jacket.

Most of the patrons gaped in awe as this young woman played the fiddle as if she’d been born to do that and only that. It was the solo from “Devil Went Down to Georgia” by the Charlie Daniels band and she was rocking it beyond comprehension. Pretty sure even the bartenders stopped what they were doing. The rest of the night was a little blurry, but I know we didn’t leave until that band had played their entire set.

We ended up getting a hotel room but none of us slept. All we could talk about was that band and how amazing they were and how we were kicking ourselves that we didn’t get their name so we could check them out online and hear more. I still look for them when I’m in Nashville and one day I fully expect to hear them on the radio. Whoever they are, they will forever be the band that inspired the Neon Dreams series.

This isn’t the exact band but they’re pretty close! The search continues!

VIDEO LINK: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9SKAl1lBDEY

Leaving Amarillo synopsis:

Dixie Lark hasn’t had it easy. She lost her parents in an accident when she was young and grew up in a ramshackle house on a dirt road in Amarillo with her ailing grandparents and overprotective older brother. Thanks to her grandfather, Dixie learned to play a mean fiddle, inspired by the sounds of the greats—Johnny and June, Waylon, and Hank. Her grandfather’s fiddle changed Dixie’s life forever, giving her an outlet for the turmoil of her broken heart and inspiring a daring dream.

Ten years later, Dixie and her brother, Dallas, are creating the music they love and chasing fame with their hot band, Leaving Amarillo. But Dixie isn’t enjoying the ride. All she can think about is Gavin, the band’s tattooed, tortured drummer who she’s loved since they were kids. She knows he feels the connection between them, but he refuses see her as more than his best friend’s little sister.

Convinced that one night with Gavin will get him out of her system, Dixie devises a plan. She doesn’t know that her brother has forbidden Gavin from making a move on her-a promise he swore he’d always keep . . . a promise that once broken will unexpectedly change the future for Dixie, Gavin and the band.

Except Teasers:

1. But here, where I am right now, Gavin Garrison is making love to me with his eyes. And I don’t want him to
stop. Ever.

2. It’s when he takes her hand and slowly slides up the sleeve of her dress shirt so that he can write on her wrist
that I lose my mind completely.

3. He opens his mouth to respond—most likely to deny that he did that tonight—but I place my trembling
fingers against his lips, firmly breaking our ten-year unspoken no-touching rule.

4. But you can’t really have fire. You can’t hold a flame in your hands without getting burned.

5. He’s not watching you like he’s worried you’ll screw up. He’s watching you like he’s worried you’ll
disappear and take his heart with you.

6. We’re more than that. You and Dallas are all I have. Do you get that?

7. I don’t know when I became this pathetic mess so completely codependent on the happiness of someone who
has told me in no uncertain terms that he will never cross the friendship line with me, but here I am.

8. He breathes into me, filling me, and I take his offering greedily, pulling his tongue and lips into my mouth
harder than is appropriate for a first kiss.

9. I’ve taken the first hit and already I’m addicted.

10. It was a mistake. Like I told you before, there are moments when things between us get…difficult to
control. This time I screwed up and gave in, that’s all. It won’t happen again.

11. If I can’t make him see that he is both capable and worthy of love, that memory will have to be enough for
me, even if it’s all I’ll ever have.

12. All I can feel is his mouth on my neck, his hands on my hips, and the promises of what’s to
come—literally—against my backside.

13. I will make it impossible for him to say no, somehow. I have five floors on the elevator to figure it out. My
heart rises into my throat as we make our way upward.

14. “All I can think about is how good this ice cream would taste if I was licking it off your body instead of this
plastic spoon.”

15. I’m thrusting against his mouth and moaning in pleasure when I feel it. The pressure has reached its peak
and I need him inside. Now.

 

About the author: 

Caisey Quinn lives in a suburb outside of Birmingham, Alabama with her husband, daughter, and other assorted animals. She wears cowgirl boots most of the time, even to church. She is the bestselling author of the Kylie Ryans series and writes New and Young Adult books about country girls finding love in unexpected places.

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