Marigny Street by Annie Rose Welch Book Tour Excerpt & #giveaway

Thursday, August 22, 2013

Do you believe in the power of dreams?

Way down south on Marigny Street in the heart of New Orleans, the land of Catholic intersessions, purgatory, and supernatural superstitions, young Evangeline Chenier dreams of a radiant boy who saves her from a storm. She takes the dream seriously – in her family, dreams are sometimes more than dreams. Sometimes they foretell the future. Sometimes they create it.

Years later, Eva is no longer the same wistful girl but a hardened woman who no longer believes in dreams. Losing faith in her gift, she becomes lost in a nightmare of emotion, mourning her son, separating from her husband, and stewing in a dead-end job. And then fate brings her an unlikely surprise: one of the most famous movie stars in the world, Gabriel Roberts.

Caught by something in his eyes, Eva agrees to show him the real Big Easy on his last night in New Orleans—an evening that turns into four dreamy days spent recapturing lost faith and discovering a love neither expected. Realizing Gabriel is the boy from her childhood dream, Eva must leave everything behind—her husband, her family, her history, and the beautiful city she calls home—and gamble it all for the dream that has saved her on MARIGNY STREET.

In what seemed like moments we exited one streetcar and entered another. And not just any other streetcar. This was the most romantic of all streetcars, the St. Charles. We took our seats in the back, because this one was filled with people too. The car jerked forward and then, with an ease that was contradictory to its heavy iron build, it glided smoothly along the tracks, as it began its inherent side- to side- gentle swaying. The old mahogany wooden bench felt hot under my dress. The smell of freshly cut grass and oil perfumed the interior. The breeze held the scent and carried it as we passed through a tunnel of live oaks, older than the car. I stared up above, at the exposed light bulbs that lined the ceiling. The sight of them brought back memories of all the dreams I’ve had of them. I’m not sure why, but I’ve always been mesmerized by the simplicity of their existence, and how romantic they could be.
I leaned in closer to Gabriel, my face lightly brushing against his shirt. Even in the middle of a sweat wave, he smelled divine. I couldn’t help but think of Mère and Poppa, imagining them sitting where we are now, the fair-haired woman and the dark-haired man, riding together along one of the most beautiful routes in New Orleans.Gabriel sat next to the window, absorbed in the atmosphere as I pointed out beautiful places along the route: homes from Gone with the Wind times, grand mansions, and historic landmarks such as the former home of Marguerite Clark, an old silent film star, which has now been transformed into a stately library.
“This is surreal,” he said. “It’s like I’ve taken a step back in time, to a simpler place, where only you and I seem to exist. Even though life is continuing around us, it feels as though time has frozen. It’s so quiet, so damn quiet, and peaceful. It doesn’t feel entirely real. I feel like I’m living in the music I had described to you. I am a note, and you are a note, and together we are a simple, romantic tune that makes me feel like I’m floating instead of existing. Have you ever felt that way?”

Born and raised in New Orleans, Annie has a habit of shortening her words and telling long stories. She speaks with a southern flair and cooks with it too. At the tender age of twenty- one, she hitched up her wagons (took her first plane ride) and moved out west to the big shake (California). Her writing career began one sleepless night when she imagined a gorgeous woman and a man with maniacal hair floating above her like lightening bugs falling from the sky. Curious about them, their story, and why they were floating around in her head, she sat down and penned (typed) her first novel, Marigny Street. A dream come true for her, she hasn’t stopped writing since. She loves a damn good love story, always has, no matter what the genre. She is particularly moved by imperfect love that in its own unique way is perfect, the notion of love at first sight, soul mates, and things that are generally out of the norm.

When she’s not writing she enjoys dabbling in photography and finding new, inspirational music to add to her collection. She currently (still) resides in the big shake (although her southern roots are calling her home) with her husband, daughter, and their two peculiar dogs, Boudreaux and Tabasco (who, call her crazy, bark with an accent).

For lagniappe (a little extra), a virtual cup of café au lait and beignets, please visit Annie’s website:

She can also be found on Facebook & Twitter

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