Tommy Timor and the Tremors

Take a bawdy journey within a love story set in England and Australia during the late 50s and early 60s in Jonny Newell's latest novel from an era when Rock 'n' Roll was etching its mark in time.

After fifteen minutes of just standing and staring, I took a deep breath of air and went inside for a closer gander at her in the tiny shop. I stood in front of her just looking her up and down when the shop girl noticed me simply standing there ogling. The girl finished serving some old geezer who bought some secondhand books and then ventured over to me. I swallowed as my face blushed red when the pretty girl touched my arm and whispered, “Beautiful isn’t she?” I nodded and chokingly answered, “Yes ... yes, she is!” The shop girl spoke, “She only came in last week and we only have one! And I think it’s the only one in London … so my Dad says. I think she comes from America.” The shop girl pointed to the outrageous ten-pound price tag, reached into the window display and grabbed the guitar by the neck and handed her to me. The sheer size was the first thing that surprised me, only ever strumming a crap acoustic at school. “Do you play,” she asked, “… play guitar?” I just shook my head then answered, “I started at school but … you know, was pretty crap at it!” I knelt down one kneed and placed the gleaming white and gold guitar across my upright knee, I plucked a string to make a twanging sound that came from her hollow body. “My dad teaches guitar ... he’s actually quite good, anyway my name’s Rose.” She did a quick little wave with a cute disarming smile. “Tommy,” I went to say Edmonton but where did it come from? I wasn’t quite sure but I saw it in my mind, me rocking out like the king himself - Elvis, so I said it out loud? “Tommy ... Tommy Timor, nice to meet you Rose.”