Showing posts with label Chapel Hill. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chapel Hill. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 01, 2008


Tom Grasty was recently interviewed on San Francisco's KPOO by Donald Lacy, host of the long-running "Wake Up Everybody." Mr. Grasty discussed his new rock n' roll murder-mystery, BLOOD ON THE TRACKS.

Listen to the interview below:



For more information on KPOO click here.


Watch YouTube

Curious what the impetus was behind the book? When did Tom find the time to write it?

For answers to
these and many other questions, click on the image below:





"Blood" Money: Buy the Book

Order your copy today at these online retailers:



Still need a little more before you order that copy?

A synopsis of the novel is below.




"Blood" Blurb: A Synopsis of the Novel

Genre: Murder Mystery
Author: Tom Grasty
Word Count: 122,000 words
Page Count: 394 pgs.

This morning. Room 211. The Chelsea Hotel. Elysian Row.

A man is lying face-up on a red crushed velvet chaise. His wide-open eyes stare up at some unseen spot on the ceiling. He is wearing a pair of tight-fitting jeans,
scuffed up Spanish boots of leather and a matching Bolero vest. At first glance, you might mistake him as a vagabond, a vagrant, a drifter. He would have liked that. He always thought of himself as a traveling troubadour. But look closer. The man lying across the chaise is Bob Dorian.

He’s been hailed a poet, a prophet, the voice of a generation. But Bob Dorian never wanted to be any of those things. The most famous rock star in the world always hated the attention.

Funny how turning up dead attracts the most attention of all.

M
inutes after the body is discovered, Jack Frost, Dorian’s manager for the last twenty years, is summoned to the crime scene by Commissioner Tiresias, a man who's made a career turning blind eye to fraud and corruption. The crooked chief of police wants to know what Dorian was doing back in town. "After all," the Commissioner reminds Frost, "when Dorian left Elysian Row forty years ago he left a lot of pissed off people behind."

Dorian came back to stage a concert, Frost concedes. But what does it matter now? Bob Dorian’s dead. "A dead rock star can be worth a lot more than you might think," the Commissioner replies cagily. His implication is crystal clear: A take at the door or the Commissioner will make sure Frost takes a bullet of his own. Frost makes the deal.

T
he Commissioner’s proposal is one part brilliant, all part blackmail. But there’s still a part missing— someone needs to be brought in to take the fall.

Enter Mister Johns.

A pitiless poser who's been working the obits desk at The Elysian Plains-Dispatch for as long as anyone can remember, Johns is brought in to help Frost find Dorian’s murderer.

F
or the first half the novel, Frost continues to keep Johns in the cold. And though Johns knows something is happening, he doesn’t know what it is. After all, Dorian’s unexpected return to Elysian Row is raising more than a few eyebrows. And this oddly-familiar cast of characters has quite a lot to say about the slain rocker. Lonesome Tom, Hannah, Dela Croix, Elijah Blue, Mr. Tremolo Man, Memphis Blues, Husk the Siberian: Each offers a clue to why Bob really came back to Elysian Row (to learn about the full cast of characters click on the image above).

But when some local loser named Minnesota Slim turns up dead a few hours later, it’s as clear as the bloody nose on Slim’s face: There’s more to this than Frost or Johns could have ever imagined.


Frost sends Johns out to round up the usual suspects and bring them down to the record factory. Johns does as he is told, but Frost hasn’t told Johns everything.

And, as Jack Frost is about to find out, neither did Bob Dorian...



Still want more?

Fine...


Click on the above image for a preview of the novel.


"Bullet" Points: Read the Headlines

Read some of the aforementioned 'buzz' BLOOD ON THE TRACKS has generation by clicking here.







Or click on any of the following links:


To learn more about what the author is up to visit

Tom Grasty Central.







The author would like to thank the artists and photographers who had the courage to go to Elysian Row, and the common sense to come back. Without them, most of what we know about that godforsaken place would be pure speculation.

 
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