It's Elvis Week starting today in Memphis - LONG LIVE THE KING!

From the desk of romance author Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy…..

August 1977…..

I remember what a classic summer day it was – blue skies, a few puffy white clouds, warm temps, and our family was on vacation.  I was a teenager but loving every minute as my dad’s Ford truck ate up miles of highway.  We’d been traveling around Oklahoma, visited oilman and Phillips 66 founder Frank Phillip’s old estate of Woolaroc, now a fantastic museum, been to the salt flats out at Jett, and other places of interest.  We were heading home, back to Missouri and since it was the 1970’s, it was at the height of the CB craze so we had it on as background noise.   Listening to truck drivers and CB enthusiasts chatter back and forth was entertaining until someone announced Elvis had died.

“If that’s a joke, it’s not funny,” my mother snapped.  But others mentioned the same thing until my dad said, “Maybe he has died.” He switched off the CB and turned on the radio.  One of Elvis’ hit songs played over the airwaves.  Was it a coincidence? It wasn’t, not when across the dial almost every station played Elvis.  Before long, we caught a news report and learned the sad truth – the King was dead.

We fell silent, the four of us, as we rode across the open prairies and listened to the unmistakable voice of Elvis Presley.  A large cloud loomed in the blue sky and my mother pointed out it looked like Elvis.  For a moment, it resembled him, pouty lips and all, before the wind shifted the shape.  Over the next few days, media attention revolved around Elvis and Graceland.  His music played, his images past and present filled the television screens, and print publications splashed his picture everywhere.  People great and small came forward with stories and memories.

Elvis died that August day in 1977 but almost immediately rumors began to spread.  He wasn’t dead, not really.  It hadn’t been him in the casket – it was a wax figure.  Elvis was in hiding.  He’d gone on the road.  And the stories continue to this day.

I grew up listening to Elvis like my heroine, Lacie Logan.  In my case, it wasn’t my grandmother who was the huge fan but my mom and her sister.  Although my mom liked Elvis, my Aunt Janet loved him.  As I said when I delivered her eulogy at her funeral in 2010, my aunt and shared many things – we preferred Pepsi, smoked Marlboro cigarettes, and adored the scent, White Shoulders.  We both were comfortable in traditional leather moccasins and we’d listen to Elvis anytime, anywhere, anyhow.

Elvis week begins in Memphis today! Remember the King of Rock and Roll as fans kept vigil to remember his death. Why not enjoy Long Live The King, a fun fantasy read with a little time travel and a lot of 1950’s Las Vegas thrown in for good measure? In my alternate reality, Elvis didn’t die – he lives and loves in a wonderful, beautiful fashion.

Here’s what one reviewer said about it:

Long Live the King by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy is a fun, nostalgic, blast from the past! I was captivated by this story. I loved young Elvis. The way he talked and treated Linda (she went by Linda in the past). He was a true gentleman. This book made me think of who I would want to see from the past if I had the chance. Since, I have a love of reading, I would want to go back in time and meet William Shakespeare.


Now here’s the blurb:

Lacie Logan is just another Delta raised beauty until her attempts at a movie career fail and leave her working as a professional escort in Las Vegas.  She doesn’t like it, but what's a girl to do? Then, during an unexpected thunderstorm, she walks into a coffee shop and is suddenly back in April 1956.  When she meets Elvis Presley, she’s sure she must be dreaming but when their chance encounter becomes a full-blown romance, she realizes that she has the chance to both win the King of Rock and Roll’s heart and change history. 



“Hey, now, take it easy,” Elvis said, putting one arm around her waist. “Everything is all right. Come on, sit down, I’ll buy you a cup of coffee.”

“Thank you,” she muttered, allowing the King of Rock ‘N Roll to steer her to a booth where she slid in across from him. She was still shivering and, being a Southern gentleman to the core, he stripped off his jacket and put it around her shoulders.

“There,” he said, in the voice that broke the hearts of millions of women for at least four generations worldwide. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Yes, thank you,” Lacie managed to say. His coat smelled very masculine, like tobacco, cologne, and his personal musk. She liked it.

“We need two cups of coffee,” Elvis told the waitress. “We may want something else in a little while but that’ll do for now.”

Any idea he might be a very good Elvis impersonator disappeared when he stuck his hand out to her and said, “I’m Elvis Presley. I kind of think you might have noticed but out here, who knows?”

Lacie cleared her throat. “I did but I wasn’t sure it was really you. I’m Linda Mae Logan, from Greenville, Mississippi. Some people call me by my nickname, Lacie.”

His eyes lit up like two candles fired with a match.

“I knew you’re too good-looking to be anything but a Mississippi Delta girl!” he cried. “Yeah, it’s really me. You even seem glad to meet me.”

“I am.” She did not understand how this could be possible but she was happy about it, she thought. “Why wouldn’t I be?

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