The Sidewalk's Regrets - Available Now


Seventeen-year-old Sacha McLeod isn’t looking for someone to rock her world. But when she hears the boy in the music store play the guitar, the music thrills her and she falls hard for Dylan and his sound.

Sacha finds herself spending less time with her violin and more time with this guy. Her plans for her violin-virtuoso future—and her self-confidence—are shattered when she screws up the audition for a summer music program. Failure isn’t something she’s had to face before, so when Dylan asks her to spend her vacation with him in the city, she lies to her parents, pretends she won a place in the summer school, and secretly moves in with Dylan.

She’s expecting romance, music, and passion, but when she finds herself playing second fiddle to Dylan’s newly acquired drug habit, she realizes despite what the songs say, sometimes love isn’t all you need.


PublisherEvernight Teen



Some reviews For The Sidewalk's Regrets:

Falling in love might change the priorities in our lives. What used to come first is now the last thing on your mind. At least for a while. Then, people around you begin to notice the changes you are experiencing, they start to get worried, and the vicious cycle of deceit and lying begins.

Sacha has figured out the rest of her life already. After she gets into the Summer School program she has trained hard for, she'll get the kickstart she needs to get her professional career as a violinist going. Then she meets Dylan and her priorities are turned upside down. The music Dylan makes resonates inside her making thinking straight harder and harder.

I loved the writing style. The way Sacha describes the way Sidewalk's Regrets' music affects her, how it surrounds her and consumes her, hits spot on how the writing affected me. The writing is consuming, like being submerged in the bath as long as can before coming up for a gulp of air before going below the surface again. Of course, the writing isn't perfect and there were a few spots where it stumbled a bit, but mostly it just is a joy to follow. - Books Told Me So. Read full review here.
THE SIDEWALK’S REGRETS by Kate Larkindale is a stark look at the downward spiral of two people so blindsided by their love for each other they missed the train wreck they were heading for. Drugs, drink and the unfettered freedom of life as a rocker and the loss of self-control are a stark reminder that, no matter how you feel for someone, together, disaster lay ahead.

An eye-opening, heartbreaking saga of young love at its worst. Dramatic and as difficult to put down as it was to read! kate Larkindale has piled on the teen angst, the teen rebellious side and proof that just maybe there are boundaries in place for a reason! - Tome Tender. Read full review here.

From the moment I started reading I couldn’t put this book down. I just had to know what would happen to Sacha and Dylan. There where many moments while I read this book that I was almost screaming to Sacha, to make her take another decision and to let her see the so obvious signs. But I soon realized that the signs she missed about drug use etc. are probably all signs we wouldn’t see either as a seventeen year old in love. The writing in this book was easy to follow, and kept you hooked to the pages.

The romance between Sacha and Dylan was so relatable. I loved reading how in love they were, and how much they wanted to be together even though Sacha’s parents seemed so against it. There love was sweet and intense and I wished so many things for them.
And the drugs.. well I’ve never used drugs but as a nurse I’ve seen people with drug addictions. And it’s definitely something that is dangerous, and inviting and just something I wished people wouldn’t have such an easy access too. The author described the ‘high’ in an fascinating way. I could almost understand why someone would want to take another ‘hit’. Almost..

‘The Sidewalk’s Regrets’ is an intense read that will probably keep me thinking for a while. It’s a lot different from all the romance novels I’ve been reading lately. But this book is definitely a good one. And although I thought about this book as a 4 star read when I finished it.. I’m going for 5 stars! A book that still keeps me thinking about it so much, even after I finished reading it deserves 5 stars. - Maureen's Books. Read full review here.

Excerpt:

I pick up a yellow package and test its weight. Steel-wrapped, perlon core. I’ve never tried a wound E-string before. Feels good, but really, until it’s strung, tuned, and played, I’m not going to know. I like the weight of the wrapped string, the solidity of it in my palm. I’m comparing the bulk of this string with one of my usual brand when a noise makes me jump. No, not a noise. It’s a wall of noise. A huge tsunami of sound that washes over me and carries me away with it. It wails and shrieks and croons and moans all at the same time. I’ve never heard anything like it. My stomach leaps with something that could be fear or excitement. I can’t tell which. I just know my heartbeat has grown so fast and strong my ribs groan.

As if drawn by a magnet, I’m outside the string room, cutting through the jumbled spaces, the sound growing louder and louder. It reaches into my soul and tears off a piece, carrying it away. What is this music? Can I even call it music?

I stumble into the store’s main room on trembling legs. In the corner, someone is playing an electric guitar. Although playing doesn’t seem like the right word for the way his hands move across the instrument. He’s caressing it. Teasing it. Berating it into creating this otherworldly sound that pummels the walls and assaults my senses. Feedback cackles through the amp and he seems to encourage it, pushing the neck of his instrument closer and closer before tearing it away. Every note burrows into the marrow of my bones, each one digging deeper and deeper until I can’t separate my body from the music swirling around it.

As abruptly as it started, the sound stops. I stagger backward as if the weight of the noise was keeping me upright. I’m still clutching the packages of strings, the paper envelopes growing damp in my palm. My heart raps a staccato rhythm against my ribs and I realize I’m holding my breath.


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