Tuesday 28 November 2023

Excerpt of Next Stop, Boston by Iris Dorbian

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the NEXT STOP, BOSTON by Iris Dorbian Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!


About The Book:


Author: Iris Dorbian

Pub. Date: September 30, 2023

Publisher: Black Pawn Press

Formats:  Paperback, eBook

Pages: 206

Find it: Goodreadshttps://books2read.com/NEXT-STOP-BOSTON 

"This is a very entertaining novel, with effortless writing, naturalistic dialogue, and a good dose of humor. On the surface, it's a tale set in the glittering, frantic world of a touring musical act. Dig deeper, however, and you'll find a story about flawed, damaged characters searching for the light that will lead them out of the darkness that has been created for, or by, themselves." - Wendy Lee, author of The Art of Confidence, Across a Green Ocean, and Happy Family (Booklist Top Ten First Novels of 2008).

Sixteen-year-old Geri Randall's life is turned upside down when her late sister's fiance, Dez Deacon, a washed-up rock star, is named her guardian. Whisked away from the only life she knew and taken on a rock and roll tour, Geri is initially desperate to win Dez's approval. That desire hits a sour note when Dez's treatment of her becomes too much to bear. What ensues is a battle of wills between her and her temperamental guardian, a collision course that will push Geri to do the unthinkable to get what she wants.




April 2019  

Her skinny fingers rippled across the strings. She played a G  chord, one of the few chords he’d taught her in between gigs. She  plucked it again, the twangy sound vibrating in her ears. It was part of her nightly backstage ritual. Most important was  polishing and cleaning his guitar. He was persnickety in the way he  liked it. Lately, she had gotten the hang of it, but it had been rough  going there for a while, as he was never satisfied with anything he  asked her to do. Whether it was this task or another, she could  never please him. Not until recently.  

She’d thought being on the road would be a lot more fun. She  didn’t hate it, but she didn’t relish it either. Time was a blur; it was  as if school and her other life never existed, with every day seeming  to stretch into an eternity.  

She scanned the musty room, and when she was sure no one was  lurking, Geri picked up the Gibson again and pretended to play the  guitar like a rock god. Tossing her head back, she rolled her right  arm like a windmill and closed her eyes, faking the strumming and  picking motions.  

It was dumb, childish as all hell. But, screw it. She needed to let  loose.  

Of course, if he saw her doing this, she’d never hear the end of it.   “Gerrrrriiiiii!”  

Fear gripped her.  

Oh shit.  

Immediately, she put the guitar down.  

“Dez!” she yelled back, her lower lip trembling slightly. “I’m in  here. I’m in the dressing room.”  

The door barged wide open as he blustered in. He sighed loudly.  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He snatched the guitar away  from her and started strumming.  

“I’m sorry,” she said sheepishly, her hazel eyes bugging out. “I  was just doing what you wanted me to do, what you told me—”  

“Shut up!” 

Dez’s gaze meandered toward the ceiling as he played the  instrument, testing it before the sound check. His expression  fluctuated between pensive and poker-faced. 

“Not bad,” he said, as he continued to strum. “Not bad at all.  Maybe you can actually do something.” 

“Really?” She beamed, her smile radiating the heat of a million  suns.  

She had been wary of him early on; now his approval was all that  mattered to her. 

“Yeah.” He cocked his head, fixing his sapphire eyes on her.  “Really.” His lips curled into a reluctant grin. 

Her luminous smile engulfed her oval face, giving her peaches  and cream complexion an almost Madonna-like glow.  He rolled his eyes, then placed the guitar back into the case  before slamming it shut. “Come here,” he commanded, in a tone not  as harsh as before. Unfolding his arms, he enveloped her so tightly  neither of them could breathe. “You stupid kid,” Dez mumbled as  he stroked her hair, inhaling the balsamic fragrance of the shampoo  she’d used that morning. “I never know what’s up with you.”  Then he did something he never did: he kissed the top of her  strawberry blond hair, which she always clipped up in a messy bun,  making her look like a cross between a jailbait librarian and an  unkempt ballerina. 

His lips on her head touched her like volts of electricity. It felt  like ages since anyone had kissed her. The sweetness of that  sensation encircled her in a ring of warmth that dissipated as soon  as he let go. 

“You see how easy it is when you listen to me, Geri,” he said, the  sternness returning. 

“I do, but sometimes,” she shook her head, “I get confused.”  “Because you don’t listen,” he shot back, a haughty smirk  shading his finely sculpted features. 

She scratched her mouth. “Can I go back to the hotel?”  “No,” he snapped back, indignant. “You need to stay here.”  “But Dez—” 

“What did I say? I’m not going to repeat myself.”  Maintaining his resolve, Dez crossed his arms. The sleeveless  jean vest he wore nicely accentuated his muscles. Those sinewy  biceps always distracted Geri, especially the tattoo that sported her  sister’s name on his upper left arm. 

MICHELLE, 7/15/92–12/1/2018 

Underneath her name and lifeline was a simple red rose. Michelle had been Dez’s fiancĂ©e. If she hadn’t been killed in a car  crash in Milan, where she was modeling the latest Dior fashions, she  and Dez would have married last New Year’s Eve. Michelle had  been in a car with another model, Selene, on their way to the  airport, when their driver had been sideswiped by a drunken,  middle-aged, off-duty police officer. They’d all died instantly on  impact. 

Geri was going to be her maid of honor. Last summer, while she  was on her school break, Michelle had flown her to Paris for a  special fitting with Henri, the finest wedding couturier in the  business. Or so Michelle told her. She had modeled his designs in  an issue of French Vogue a year before and was so smitten with his  work, his name was the first that had popped into her head after  Dez proposed. 

The wedding was going to be held in a private Swiss chalet, a  very small affair with a guest list that consisted of Dez’s manager,  Larry, acting as best man; Lanie, a model-turned-makeup-artist who  was a close friend of Michelle’s since their early go-see days; and  Geri. 

She couldn’t believe it when Michelle had announced she wanted  her, not Lanie, as maid of honor. 

“Me? You want me?” she’d cried. 

“Of course! You’re my baby sister. Who else would I pick? All we  have is each other.” 

Their bond, forged in DNA and loneliness, had been an  underlying theme in both of their lives. 

Their father, Jack, had died of cancer when Michelle was fifteen  and Geri was five. Their mom, Lisa, had died four years later of a  stroke, although Michelle always insisted she’d died of a broken  heart, being that she and Jack had been as much in love when he  died as they had been when they’d first met at the University of  Colorado thirty years earlier. 

Geri had been in the fourth grade at Grant Elementary School in  Boulder when she found out that Mom was never coming back  from the hospital. Michelle had flown to Boulder from New York  City a week before when Lisa’s health took a turn for the worse. She  had been waiting for her sister in the principal’s office. 

“It’s just you and me now, kiddo,” Michelle told her.  She hadn’t been wrong about that. Their mom was an only child.  Both sets of grandparents had been dead for a long time. Jack did  have a younger brother, who, last anyone had heard, lived in  Florida. They hadn’t been in touch with him in so long, he might as  well have been dead. 

Because Lisa had died in February and school wasn’t over yet,  Michelle had temporarily relocated from her Manhattan digs where  she’d been a rising, in-demand model to tend to her sister. Her  agency had almost dropped her until she’d reassured them she  would return to New York City once her sister was done with the  school year. Then Geri would move in with her and Michelle would  enroll her in a school conducive to her needs. 

As Geri was dyslexic, she had attended a special school for  children with a myriad of learning and social disorders. It was  considered one of the best in Colorado, and in the country. That it  was close to the Boulder homestead made it even better. 

Yet, as Michelle would tell Geri repeatedly, her sister had made a  promise to her dying mom that she would take care of Geri and  never abandon her. 

“We’re in this together, you and me,” Michelle reassured Geri on  the flight that would whisk her away from Boulder permanently to  a new life in New York City. 

Life had plodded along at a pleasant albeit unsurprising pace  until Michelle met Dez. Then Geri’s life had imploded as the  whirlwind courtship to end all courtships began, only to end in  tragedy months later. 

About Iris Dorbian:

Iris Dorbian is an arts and business journalist whose bylines have appeared in a wide array of outlets that include Forbes, Wall Street Journal, Reuters, Crain's New York Business, Business Insider, Buyouts, Venture Capital Journal, Investopedia, Playbill, Backstage, Dance Magazine, Theatermania and Stage Directions, where she served as editor-in-chief for eight years. Her personal essays have been featured in HBO's Inspiration Room, Boomer Magazine, Jewish Literary Journal, Diverse Voices Quarterly, and Gothesque Magazine. Having previously published "Great Producers: Visionaries of the American Theater" (Allworth/Skyhorse) "An Epiphany in Lilacs: In the Aftermath of the Camps" (original publisher: Mazo Publishers) and "Sentenced to Shakespeare" (Sunbury/Milford House Prss), "Next Stop, Boston" is her fourth book.

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Giveaway Details:

1 winner will receive a $10 Amazon Gift Card, International.

Ends December 12th, midnight EST.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tour Schedule:

Week One:


Two Chicks on Books

Excerpt/IG Post


Writer of Wrongs



#BRVL Book Review Virginia Lee Blog

Blog Spotlight/IG Post


The Momma Spot




IG Review

Week Two:


Rajiv's Reviews

Review/IG Post


Callisto’s calling

IG Review



IG Review



IG Review


Character Madness and Musings



  1. Thanks so much for being a host on my book’s blog tour! Have a great day!

  2. This is Iris Dorbian—FYI