The Adventures of Katie Button Playlist

Every life needs a soundtrack. Here are the songs I think match the story of The Adventures of Katie Button and would work perfectly as a movie soundtrack. It's a bit of a mixed bag from the 60's to now and everything in-between. All songs link back to YouTube.

1. Stand and Deliver   .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  Adam and the Ants
2. Daydream Believer  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . The Monkees
3. Now We Are Free .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  Theme from Gladiator
4. Shake It Off  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .   Taylor Swift
5. My Heart Will Go On .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . Celine Dion
6. Angels  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  Robbie Williams
7. With Or Without You  .  .  .  . .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  U2
8. Steal My Girl  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  One Direction
9. Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)  .  .  .  .  .  Eurythmics
10. These Boots Are Made For Walkin’ .  .  .  .  . Nancy Sinatra
11. (Oh) Pretty Woman  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . Roy Orbison
12. Let Me Entertain You  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . Robbie Williams
13. Purple Rain .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  Prince
14. Can’t Get you Out of My head  .   .   .   .   .   .Kylie Minogue
15. She’s the One  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .Robbie Williams
16. Perfect Day  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .Lou Reed
17. The MasterPlan .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  Oasis
18. True Colours .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .Cyndi Lauper
19. I Knew I loved You  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . Savage Garden
20. Prince Charming  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .   Adam and the Ants
21. It's Alright . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . East 17

Youtube playlist for Katie Button

I hope you enjoyed listening to the soundtrack. Hope it's inspired you to read the book if you haven't done so already. Some of the songs are my favourites. With Or Without You is one of my absolute favourite songs. So pleased it fits in. 

Available at Amazon UK

Available at Amazon US

Crooked Cat Publishing

Mid Week Blues Buster Changing Winds (judged 2nd place)

This story won me second place. Yay. xx

The whispers were true. Rosalind was back. As John watched from his high, stone walls, Rosalind rode in, escorted by his guards who made sure she was brought immediately to him. She stood before John, silently staring at him. It was happening again; he was losing himself in her green eyes, vibrant like an early spring morning promising excitement of the hunt.

  “Aren’t you going to offer me anything?” she asked. “It’s been a long journey.”

  “Rosalind, I banished you from the kingdom. Knowing upon your return you would be sentenced to death, why on earth are you here?”

   “I do not question where the winds take me, nor do I fear the consequences,” she replied, taking the goblet of wine offered to her.

    “It’s that kind of talk, witch talk that got you trouble in the first place.”

    “You haven’t changed much,” Rosalind said, walking towards the window. “Neither has the condition of your townspeople.”

    “There is a war to be funded.”

    “A war in a place these people know nothing about.”

    “You haven’t come back to discuss my taxes?” he asked, standing close behind her, his fingers entwined in her long raven hair. “I’ve missed you.” Rosalind felt his hot breath on her neck as he scooped her hair away, revealing milky white flesh. “I can over turn your death sentence Rosalind,” he murmured.

     She turned to face him, cupping his face in her hands and softly kissing him. “I will not change,” she whispered. “I am who I am, a free spirit who cannot be tamed. Even by a king.”

     The grip on her wrist tightened, his eyes dark and cold. “Then the people you care so much about will continue to suffer as I suffer, unless you renounce your ways.” His grip loosened.  “I love you Rosalind. And offer you everything.” His lips pressed on hers, demanding a response but none came. “You have sealed your fate,” he spat, his hand forming a vice around her neck. Rosalind, remaining calm, tried to pull his hand away, her nails digging in his flesh, breaking the skin.

   “And you have sealed you’s she panted as he released his hand, blood trickling down his arm from her nail mark.

    Rosalind didn’t know why the winds lead her back to John. And as she lay on the cold stone floor, her ankles in shackles, she didn’t question why. Even when she heard the stacking of wood outside, she didn’t question. She accepted everything, even meeting an apothecary along her journey who insisted her nails were painted with a clear liquid, to protect her from harm.  

      That now, was clear to Rosalind. Everything was done for a reason. Now to find the reason for her death as she was lead to the pyre. A muted crowd watched as she was tied to the steak and more wood was piled up around her.

    The flames licked and danced around her, spreading and growing, crackling and spitting. Soon, a wall of fire ate away at her as smoke drifted up and carried on the wind.

     The wound on John’s arm sent him into a fever. From his bed he smelt burning, could see the smoke swirl up high. He cried out as the pain in his arm spread throughout his body, until too weak to even moan. As life ebbed away, a breeze rolled over him, whispers surrounded him. The voice of Rosalind echoed in the air, her sweet voice, gentle laugh. “I am free,” she sang, “free to roam wherever the wind takes me, where you can’t harm me.”

   “Rosalind,” said the hoarse voice of John. “What have you done?”

    “You were right about sealing my fate John. My fate was to be free from you forever and to free the people from you.”   Stillness and silence enveloped John as the breeze, the wind and Rosalind left him to die alone.   

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Written for Mid Week Blues Buster over at http://thetsuruokafiles.wordpress.com/ .      

By Invitation Only MidweekBluesBuster

                                      

By Invitation Only

The half finished derelict Victorian mansion set in a small clearing amongst the forest was the perfect setting for the party. The trees creaked and groaned as stray branches tapped against the third story windows. The wind swirled dead leaves around visitors’ feet as the jack-o-lantern welcomed guests with a jagged grin. The door bell gave a ghostly moan before the heavy wooden door creaked open revealing a darkened hall with only a flickering of a candle dancing in the breeze.

Ahead of the guests, two large white doors were firmly closed and the silence was broken only by the clip clopping of their footsteps against the black and white tiles. Victor looked to his wife, Clarissa, “do I have anything stuck between my teeth?” he asked, running his tongue across his pearly whites and glistening fangs.

“Beautiful darling,” Clarissa purred, baring her own fangs for inspection. She flicked back her long, black hair revealing the silver streak, pulled her black dress down a little, showing a little more cleavage before the doors sprung open.

The music assaulted their eardrums as did the cheer from the crowd as Victor and Clarissa glided in. Manny was the first to greet them, offering an unravelling hand as he groaned a welcome.

“Dear Manny,” Clarissa said, air kissing him, “how lovely to see you looking so well wrapped.” She and Victor made sure they spoke to everyone before heading for the bar.

“Two Bloody Mary’s please,” Victor said, “type O.”

“It’s a fabulous turn out this year,” Clarissa observed, seeing every single creature represented at the annual Halloween bash. This year, even the zombies had made it after their popularity had risen due to The Walking Dead. Last year, they didn’t even get an invite; picking up after them was always a dampener on the night.

“Cheers,” Victor clunked his glass and sipped his drink, licking his lips. “This does give me a taste of the hunt Clarissa. I hunger for the old days when we could go about unnoticed and chase own our prey.” He sighed heavily, “and wearing this stupid black cloak. Why do we have to dress up for Halloween?”

“Stop being a grouch Victor. It’s fun. Besides, Manny wouldn't be seen without his wrap,” she laughed, “we wouldn't see him either.” She looked at Manny the Mummy as he waved back. “It’s the one night of the year where we can truly be ourselves and do what we were born to do.”    

A flurry of ghosts drifted across the room, before disappearing through the wall as the headless horseman took centre stage with his break dancing. Clarissa loved the party, loved they were altogether; loved the one night of the year they were all allowed and were able to walk amongst the humans, unnoticed.

But the climax of the evening was the sound of the moaning doorbell. With all the guess already arrived, it only meant one thing; the delivery of humans. Clarissa jumped with joy as the music stopped and everyone gathered eagerly. “Now we don’t want to scare them off just yet. We’ll have some fun before we share the spoils,” she sang as she walked to the door.

Adjusting her dress again, Clarissa opened the door. She smiled, not afraid to show her fangs; it was Halloween after all.

“Sorry to disturb your party but our coach driver is lost. Do you have a phone? Useless mobile; no signal out here,” the middle aged man said.  

“Why of course. You and your group should come in for a rest, some refreshment. We have plenty.”  The coach load of tourists traipsed into the house as Clarissa walked over to the driver.” Thank you,” she grinned.

“My pleasure,” the coach driver grinned, baring his own gleaming fangs that he’d kept well hidden whilst duping the tourists onto his coach. “I’ll just park up in the garage and join the party, Mother.”  

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This week's Mid-week-blues-buster over at The Tsuruoka Files has given us a rather zany song which can be heard here http://youtu.be/KJzWGkgFcTU.  

MWBB #25 Afro-Celt song Eireann; Echoing Song

Update on this piece, if you already didn't know (yeah right). It won and I get this rather nifty sparkly badge.

Phew, just in time for this week's Mid-Week-Blues-Buster- over at The Tsuruoka Files. The music this week was a gorgeous Afro-Celt song that whisked me away to this story; some of it based on fact . .  It reminded me of that time in the Irish pub . . . .Anyway, if you want to listen to the song called Eireann then please click the link and maybe listen as you read, as I listened as I wrote. Powerful stuff, music. xxx

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pSqR1O1PDJU&feature=youtu.be

Echoing Song

Sipping on a glass of wine wasn’t exactly befitting the Irish pub in Camden Town but it didn’t matter how much Linda declared how smooth a Guinness was, she was sticking to her wine, although the Guinness did remind her of when she was a child, drawing a face in the thick froth of her dad’s pint.

She loved Thursday nights as after evening class, they would walk into the quiet pub for a cheeky drink before heading home. But it wasn’t quiet for long as spontaneously, people would start playing on their tin whistles and their bodhráns. Before long, fiddlers would join in and the atmosphere was electric, not electric enough for Isabel to try the Guinness but enough to ask to have a go at playing the bodhrán.  

“It’s all in the wrist,” the young man said with a thick Irish accent. And he proceeded to play, his wrist moving quickly as he created complex but beautiful rhythms.  Soon the other musicians joined in; there was no room for solos. The music echoed through the pub as it did through time. .  .

The wind whipped Isabel’s hair across her face as the salty sea air coated her pale skin. She picked up her long skirts and turned to face Adair.

“Is it true?” his voice was hoarse but rose against the howling wind. “Did you bed my brother whilst I was away, fighting, for you!”

“You weren’t fighting for me! You’re fighting for glory, to show your father you’re the one who should lead the clan.”

“Is it true!”

“No!” She turned back towards the sea; as angry as her as it bashed against the rocks into a fine spray.

“Then why does Tristan mock me with these taunts? Why does Morrigan say so?”

“Morrigan? You believe the words and gossip from a mad woman?”

“She is not mad! She is wise and sees all, Isabel! Why would she say that if there was not the truth?” Isabel walked along the cliff edge, wanting to be far from Adair. The rocks were slippery but her footing was strong and sure. “Isabel? Please, we must talk about this.” He was behind and his large hand gripped her arm. She shrugged him off, not realising the rock she was standing was lose. A scream pieced through the wind as Adair quickly reached out, gripping her wet hand. “Isabel, don’t struggle, stay calm.” He heaved, pulling her up, but only where her head just peeked above the cliff top. His eyes were wild, demanding.

“Please! Adair!”

“Tell me the truth!”

“I have! Please get me up!”

“Morrigan says otherwise, your eyes betray you, your heart is with Tristan! I shall kill him but first,” he loosened his grip and as Isabel shrieked, he let go, watching her tumble to the rocks below, laying broken before the hungry waves took her.  . .

“Isabel!” Linda’s voice was shrill as she shook Isabel by the arm. “I was saying how nice the guy on the drum is. He likes you!”

“What?” she was dazed, confused. The dream had felt so real. She was trembling with fear and cold. She had felt the sea on her face. She licked her lips and tasted the salty sea. “I think I need to go home. I don’t feel well.”

“Ah come on girl,” the man playing the bodhrán said. “Stay for another!” His blue Irish eyes twinkled.  Isabel couldn’t refuse as another wine was placed in front of her. “Your friend was saying  you’d like to learn the bodhrán properly? I can teach you.” She nodded feebly.  “Tristan,” he held out his hand. Isabel stared at him, the eyes were deep and intense and she felt like she knew them, trusted them as she held out her hand, not wavering from the intensity of his gaze. “Just don’t tell my brother, Adair. He likes to do all the teaching, especially with someone as pretty as you.” He kissed her shaking hand as Isabel lifted her gaze to the dark eyes of Adair; the same eyes who let her fall to the rocks below.

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#12 Days of Christmas Blog Hop

Day 3 Music

 Winter's Song

The winter set in, as bleak and dark as any other, and like every winter, the village closed its doors at the setting of the winter sun. Fear wrapped itself around every adult as they tucked their children into their beds for the night. Stillness descended.

Natan lay awake, staring into the pitch black. And then he heard it. He strained his ears. The gentle tinkling sound filled the night. It was enchanting and Natan crept out of bed towards the darkened window. Nothing stirred but the tinkling of bells seemed to be right outside. Against all warnings, Natan opened the door. The crunching of the snow magnified in the silent night but still Natan walked, following the bells, not feeling the bitter wind that whipped his skin, not feeling the cold, wet snow on his bare feet that were turning blue. All he felt was his heart beating in tune with the tinkling bells; a winter symphony joining his bitter march.

Soon the village was far behind, his tracks nowhere to be seen with the fresh fall of snow. A tender voice began to serenade through the wind as the bare trees thrashed their branches against Natan’s skin. But all he felt was the warmth of the music.

Finally, Natan found himself standing in a great hall.

“Thank you for joining me. I do get lonely up here.” An icy voice penetrated deep into Natan.   

“Where am I?” He shivered, feeling the bitterness of the night.

“Surely your parents told you about me? Warned you not to open the door, not to follow the bells and the singing?”

“I want to go home.”

“My dear child, you are home.” Natan stared and noticed ice statues standing around the room. He felt a coldness pierce his heart as he stiffened and realised too late he was to become another permanent ice fixture of the palace. . .

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Thanks to Inky fingers herself, Ruth and Jar of Fireflies for hosting. xxxx