#'If other women wanted to dance with Ringo they didn’t ask — they knew I would scratch their eyes out' 😊

[eppysboys]

Interview with Nancy Lee Andrews, March 2008 for 'Daytrippin'.

Daytrippin’: Let’s start from the beginning. When did you first meet Ringo Starr?

Nancy Lee Andrews: I met Ringo on a Monday afternoon in May 27, 1974.  John had rented actor Peter Lawford’s infamous Santa Monica beach home where he and May Pang hosted many get-togethers. Girlfriends and wives were cooking in the kitchen and kids were swimming in the pool.  It was a family get-together, rock ‘n’ roll style.  A seat was offered to me at the poker table and I found myself next to Ringo.  He was so charming, playful, witty and cute as hell. He might have had sad eyes, but they were twinkling at me that day.

Two months later, I got a call from May, who announced she and John were back in town.  They shuttled back and forth between New York and Los Angeles so I kept their funky ’68 Barracuda in my garage.  She asked me to bring the car to the Beverly Wilshire Hotel and we would hang out and have some dinner.  I knocked on the door to the suite expecting to see John or May, but Ringo answered instead.  It took me by surprise and I said, “Oh, hello.”  Ringo smiled and said, “I remember you… you’re my poker partner!”

After we exchanged flirtatious pleasantries, we headed down to Sunset Sound Studios where Ringo was working on Goodnight Vienna. John, May and I spent hours encouraging Ringo as he laid down vocals.  When he finished we ventured to The Fiddler, a favorite Sunset Strip hangout that stayed open late and served delicious fried fish and chips.  It had an old Wurlitzer jukebox. The two boys drank, dropped quarters in the jukebox, singing and discussing women, wives and life while May and I chatted, watching them.

Ringo turned more melancholy as we approached two in the morning, holding my hand, touching my face, and looking at me with those big blue watery eyes.  He weaved his way to the jukebox and punched in Charlie Rich’s “The Most Beautiful Girl In The World” over and over again.  At one point he was on his knees, resting his head against the speaker, which was at the bottom of the Wurlitzer.

“That poor guy,” I said to John and May.  “He’s still in love with his wife. Look at him, his heart is broken.” John said softly, “Nancy, he’s a good lad… give him a chance… you two will be good together.”  At that moment I didn’t realize just how prophetic John’s statement would be.

Daytrippin’:  So you knew John Lennon before you actually met Ringo?

Nancy Lee Andrews:  Yes.  I met John through my old boyfriend and legendary bass player, Carl Radle.  Carl played bass for Leon Russell and Eric Clapton and did many sessions in LA.  So I met John at a recording studio.  I can’t recall exactly what session it was but May and I instantly became friends that night and John gave me the thumbs up.

Daytrippin’:  So what was John like as a person?

Nancy Lee Andrews:  He was high energy.  He loved a good conversation. He liked facts about a subject.  And he was simple when it came to his needs, music, food and friends.  He was a night owl and liked to go to the movies after midnight.  One night we went downtown to a funky theater with Bob Dylan to see a Bruce Lee marathon.  Those were the days when a Beatle could make a run in the middle of the night to Pinks for a pig out on hot dogs.  He would get so excited in the recording studio and start sort of dancing when he was hearing what he wanted.  He just loved to get groups of us at the microphone for backup vocals. We had a lot of fun.

Daytrippin’:  And you met George Harrison before all of them. (Her boyfriend at the time, Carl Radle, played bass on All Things Must Pass and The Concert for Bangla Desh.)  What was George like?

Nancy Lee Andrews:  George was quiet but had this intensity when he talked to you.  Again, this guy loved music and it was all about the music.  His wife at the time, Pattie Boyd, was great to hang out with.  She’s a creative woman and a wonderful person.  A few years later Ringo and I went to visit him and Olivia at Friar Park in 1979.  They were so happy.  Olivia cooked a delicious dinner, he played the guitar and we wandered around that huge mansion while he told us its history.  He opened a door, I think it was in the kitchen and handed us candles and told us to follow him.  I thought, Oh, we’re going to the spooky cellar but the stairs kept going down and down and finally we landed on a flat surface.  I looked, and couldn’t believe what I saw… it was a cave complete with stylolites. Walkways through a cavern.  There was even a stream running through it!  I had my camera with me and we had a hilarious time shooting with and without the flash.  I have so many incredible pictures of us in that cave.

After that we settled in his study/music room and he handed me a bowl of rubies… big ones, small ones that were all cabachons.  It was days before my birthday and he said to pick what ever I want and have something made.  While he and Ringo talked and played the guitar I settled in front of the fireplace and designed a necklace with lots of hanging rubies.  One of those nights I’ll never forget.

Daytrippin’:  So after John set you up with Ringo, how did your relationship develop?

Nancy Lee Andrews:  After our first date we were hooked on each other.  We just continued until one day we were looking for a house together and we were a couple.  Our world was fast and on the move all over the world.  We had a place in Monte Carlo, England, Amsterdam and LA.  Between the recording studios, movie premieres, promotion tours, traveling nine months a year and juggling the children, friends and family we were gypsies — elegant gypsies.  Sometimes we would unplug the phones and hide out in our own house not letting anybody know we were in town.  Just a few days of old movies, some home made popcorn and our favorite meals.  Those days were some of our best times.

Daytrippin’:  Your new photo book, A Dose of Rock ‘n’ Roll, chronicles your life with Ringo (1974-1980) as well as the decade of the 1970s.  How did you go from an Eileen Ford Model to becoming a rock photographer?

Nancy Lee Andrews:  I always had a camera in my hand and recorded what was happening in front of me.  Thinking back, there are so many times I wish I had clicked the shutter instead of feeling the moment was too personal and awkward to take a picture.  But you know there are thousands of images from our life and the people who just happened to be there and I would click.  Like the great images of George at the Grand Prix in Monte Carlo… click, click… they’re in the book.  But not all of them, so I’m going to introduce many new images in the gallery shows.  If I used half of what I have the book would be many, many volumes.  You know looking back I had the ultimate all access pass and nobody ever told me to put my camera down.

Daytrippin’:  How did the camera figure into your relationship with Ringo and how did he help boost your career?

Nancy Lee Andrews:  The camera was a huge part of our lives.  We were both posers and loved to give it up for the camera.  He loved the way I saw things and encouraged me to shoot.  One day he said he needed a new head shot for the new album and said, “You shoot it.”  We went out by the side of our house where the light reflected beautifully and we did our little session.  After that we did his next two album covers — Ringo the 4th and Bad Boy, the “Ringo” TV Special and various other publicity images.  He is a natural in front of the camera.  There are images I took of him while in Morocco that are breathtaking.  He actually looked like he could be a Bedouin lord… a flowing Black cape with a long hood… he merged with the culture and they accepted him as one of their own as we strolled through the Medina.  We were living in our own personal movie in a foreign world and I was shooting it.  What a trip!

Daytrippin’: You also helped Ringo write a song, the lovely “Las Brisas” on Ringo’s Rotogravure. How did that come about?

Nancy Lee Andrews:  We were in Acapulco, I think it was the first year of our relationship, and it was so romantic at the Las Brisas Hotel. Everything was pink — pink jeeps, pink flowers floating in the pool, etc.  I was fascinated with the language and was asking someone to translate words for me and writing them down on a napkin in a poem form.  A band was playing and Ringo picked up the napkin and stared singing the words.  We worked on it over the next few days and it became our little song.

Daytrippin’:  You also took the cover and back shot of Ringo’s next album, Ringo the 4th.  What inspired you?

Nancy Lee Andrews:  Fantasy, fairy tales, sword and sorcery, not sure but evolved from a nice bottle of champagne and maybe a book we had been reading.  I think I put that sword in his hands to represent him slaying his demons.  There was this big empty closet in our suite at the Plaza Hotel in Manhattan.  I mean, it would have been a bedroom in some apartments. Any way it was the perfect light box when the flash went off.  We had the best time shooting in that closet with my girlfriend, Rita, on his shoulders.

Daytrippin’:  There’s a famous shot of you, Ringo and Paul and Linda McCartney on 5th Avenue in New York.  What was Paul like and how did that photo come about?

Nancy Lee Andrews:  We were strolling down 5th Avenue back to the Plaza Hotel and we hear someone calling Ringo’s name.  I turned and saw Paul and Linda across the street.  I mean what is the chance of that?  Paul had a photographer following him so when he caught up with us the photographer snapped away.  Paul and Linda came back to the hotel with us and we ordered some tea up to the suite.  I found Paul very charming and down to earth.  He and Linda were a real couple; you know, they were a unit.  Linda had a wonderful sense of humor.  We never hung out with them.  They were always on the farm and Paul had his own music.  He did write a song for Ringo’s Rotogravure, Pure Gold. Paul said it was about me for Ringo, so he recorded it.

Daytrippin’:  Ringo once again called upon you to take publicity photos for the “Ringo TV Special” in 1978.  What do you recall about that shoot and how did Ringo approach the project?

Nancy Lee Andrews:  He took the role seriously because it was the first vehicle that revolved around him.  American TV was a very important vehicle to promote his music.  We had just acquired a house in the Hollywood Hills and it was empty, so we decided to use the living room as our studio.  It was great fun working with an art director and director.  Ringo was surrounded by some great performers who just loved him.

Daytrippin’: You met a lot of famous people through Ringo.  Who was the most memorable?

Nancy Lee Andrews:  The Duke!  We were having dinner one night at the El Padrino Room at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel and I was beside myself because John Wayne was sitting a table away.  He was in my line of sight, but not Ringo’s.  I was fidgeting and terribly distracted.  Ringo finally asked me what was wrong with me and I gushed, “I can’t believe this but John Wayne is sitting right over there.”  Ringo’s eyes lit up and we sat there like two starstruck kids.  When John Wayne was leaving he walked right by our table and Ringo stopped him to say hello.  He was so nice and very tall.  Ringo asked him if he would give me a kiss and he said sure.  He put out his hand and pulled me up from the table and laid a Maureen O’Hara big one right on my lips.  I was a puddle with a stupid grin on my face as Ringo laughed and the other diners smiled at me.  Now that was a man and a legend!

Daytrippin’:  You’ve got some great photos of Ringo and Keith Moon at Trancas Beach in Malibu.  What was your relationship with “Moonie” and was he as crazy as he has been portrayed in the past?

Nancy Lee Andrews:  Keith had two sides.  Some of those pictures in Malibu capture the soft cuddly side of him.  The other side was the Mad Hatter who could make any tea party interesting.

Daytrippin’:  You also developed close friendships with other Beatle cohorts such as Harry Nillson, Dr. John and Donovan.  Give me a brief thumbnail of each person.

Nancy Lee Andrews:   I loved Harry Nilsson like a brother.  One of the most brilliant and fascinating men I have ever met.  Dr. John was all about the music, too.  He loved his kids, a southern gentleman.  Donovan is very impish and fun.  He loves to entertain and gets everyone involved when he knows he has your attention.  A great subject to shoot.

Daytrippin’:  The book portrays a very fast-paced, jet-set lifestyle that you shared with Ringo, including trips to England, Japan, Monte Carlo, Morocco, Mexico and the Yucatan. Didn’t you nearly die in a plane crash in the jungle in the Yucatan?

Nancy Lee Andrews:  Here’s what happened:  we were having a nice time in the Yucatan for about a week until Ringo suddenly became restless.  He woke up one morning and said, “Get me off this island.  I don’t care how you do it, but get me outta here.”  In a matter of hours I managed to book a twin-engine plane to Merida that seated six people.  Our party of four, the two pilots and our embarrassing amount of luggage put us well over the plane’s weight capacity.  Despite that and a looming tropical storm, no one could talk Ringo into staying another day.  The pounding storm forced us to fly so low that the bottom of the plane was brushing against the tops of the trees.  I was trying to calm my friend Susan S. Fair down, who was sure that our plane was going to go crash in the jungle and our remains would never be found.  Hilary Gerard, Ringo’s manager, was holding Tibetan prayer beads up against his third eye, furiously chanting and wishing for a cigarette.  While everyone was frantic and on the verge of breaking down, Ringo was as calm as could be.  He said very matter-of-factly, “Don’t worry, it’s not my time to go, so we’ll all be fine.”

Daytrippin’:  You went out with Ringo during the height of the disco era.  I have it on good account that he took ballroom dancing as a kid and is pretty light on his feet?

Nancy Lee Andrews:  Oh my god, he was a fabulous dancer.  We loved to go to the discos in Monte Carlo and Regine’s was our favorite.  The DJ knew that we loved “I Heard It Through The Grapevine” by Marvin Gaye and would play it at least twice while we were there.  Ringo would jump up and pull me to the dance floor.  He had moves that were so simple but looked so good.  Also we loved to go to Tramps in London… they had the best bangers and mash (sausage and mashed potatoes).  We would gobble it down around 2 a.m. before we went home.  If other women wanted to dance with Ringo they didn’t ask — they  knew I would scratch their eyes out.  As far as ballroom dancing I honestly did not know that about him.  Hmmm, maybe that’s where he got such good timing.

Daytrippin’:  Your relationship with Ringo came to an abrupt end when he met Barbara Bach on the set of Caveman in 1980. You were actually engaged to Ringo at the time.  How did you find closure?

Nancy Lee Andrews:    It took time.  I thought he would come home to me but he fell hard for Barbara Bach.  I put my focus on photography.  I had a business called Headshots for Women and advertised in Variety.  My beauty lighting had the girls lined up.  This was before photoshop.  I had an air brusher and he would wipe the lines away and the women loved it!  Love my computer.  I had a couple of committed relationships over the next ten years and finally gave up.  That’s when I met my husband and we are now coming up to our 15th anniversary… not to mention the few years of courting.

Daytrippin’:  Tell us about your life today and what are your future plans?

Nancy Lee Andrews:  Well, life is very exciting these days.  The book is coming out and will show my photography, even though it’s a flashback to the ’70s.  My friend, May Pang, is also coming out with a book of never before seen photos of John.  We’re going to be doing gallery exhibits and book singings together this spring in Scottsdale, Arizona; Palm Springs, California and NYC.  I have a wonderful exhibit at the Tennessee State Museum this summer, a combination of A Dose of Rock ‘n’ Roll and a dash of country.  I also head up IconicPhotos.com, a Web gallery showcasing some fine photographers work at prices that won’t dent your wallet.  I’m currently negotiating gallery exhibits in London, Paris, Amsterdam and San Francisco.  Whew, this is only a few months into the year and everything seems to have just taken off.

[withthebeatlesgirls]

Were any of the Beatles possessive?

kinda long post

John was probably the most possessive. Which he admits to

“I was a very jealous, possessive guy. Toward everything. A very insecure male. A guy who wants to put his woman in a little box, lock her up, and just bring her out when he feels like playing with her. She’s not allowed to communicate with the outside world – outside of me – because it makes me feel insecure.”- John Lennon

he was deeply possessive over Cynthia and could get easily jealous. That’s what caused the infamous and awful story where he slapped her, it was because she was just dancing with another guy and he got jealous and slapped her.

Here’s a story from Pete Best

“The German boys persisted and reached the pawing stage. Paul, who frequently doubled on piano during this second tour, couldn’t really see what was going on, but Lennon and I could. Right from the start in the Casbah, John was always very jealous whenever Cyn was around; if anyone tried to talk to her while he was playing, Lennon would try to wither them with a laser-like glare. Once off-stage they would be abruptly told to ‘fuck off.’ It was obvious that night in the Top Ten that the two girls were now a little scared. At the end of the number, the heavy mob of Lennon and Best sailed in to save them. In his usual blunt manner, John handed out a verbal lashing and for a few moments a nasty scene threatened to develop.

'Why are you butting in?’ one of the Germans asked arrogantly, sparring for trouble, which resulted in some pushing and jostling.

'That’s my girlfriend you’re messing about with,’ John snarled at him.”

He was even Jealous during the time of their divorce and wasn’t ok with the idea of her loving someone else.

He was absolutely frantic with rage at the thought of another man making love to his own wife…he sure as hell was not prepared to put up with her loving someone else.— Alistair Taylor

This possessive behavior certainly did not stop when he left Cyn and got with Yoko.

“When you actually are in love with somebody you tend to be jealous, and want to own them and possess them one hundred percent, which I do… I love Yoko, I want to possess her completely. I don’t want to stifle her, you know? That’s the danger, that you want to possess them to death.” - John 

Yoko says “John was a good husband because he didn’t pressure me but sometimes, out of love, he was a bit possessive.”

He didn’t even want her to go to the bathroom by herself, he wanted to be with her all the time. I like to think he got better with this over time.

There are a few songs that have to do with his possessiveness, most notably are Run For Your Life which is a Beatles song, and then Jealous Guy which is a solo song. Run For Your Life seems to be a song where you’re caught up in that possessiveness and jealousy and Jealous Guy is the regret later.

I don’t think Paul was ever overly possessive over Jane, but he did want her to quit or cut down on her career so she’d be there for him more and eventually become your typical housewife (Which is sexist but was the norm sadly) but Jane never gave into this.

Linda’s friend Peter Cox has said that Paul was very controlling over Linda, here are some things he has said.

“Every marriage has its ups and downs, of course. In her low moments, the idea of leaving him did cross her mind, but she immediately rejected it. Her family was the most important thing in her life and there was no way she’d give them up. At the low points, she did feel trapped.”

‘’Mr Cox claimed the star (Paul) had ‘a darker side and could be very controlling. Linda often had to dance attendance upon him. He bossed her around’.”

‘’Mr Cox said he came to the conclusion that Paul kept his wife on a ‘tight leash - like a caged animal’’.

"We were very close. We always had lots of hugs but it was a platonic relationship. I was happily married. I don't know if Paul was jealous but I was conscious that he might have been. There were no hugs when he was around."

It’s important to remember that we don’t know if Peter is that credible. I personally do believe Paul was controlling, but not to the extent that he is claiming he was.

I feel like the song Letting Go shows him getting over this controlling behavior though and letting her do her own thing.

There’s a few examples of George getting possessive over Pattie

These examples are from Tony Bramwell’s book the Magical Mystery Tours

“After the first flush of being seen with everyone, everywhere, as soon as they moved into the country with their women, the Beatles became quite reclusive. They didn’t hang out on the scene, and didn’t really know many musicians, not on a personal, friendship level. Their lives remained concentrated on the four of them and their small circle. Also, their domestic arrangements were very tight. George, normally the most private of people, became wildly jealous and possessive over Pattie. He holed up in Esher when they were married and would come into town only for recording sessions. He became very private and didn’t go boogalooing a lot, unlike Pattie who wanted to have fun - lots of it.”

“Sometimes, when we were in the studio, George didn’t seem to care who heard him anguishing, tearfully begging her to come home. It was embarrassing have to listen to this. And it was even more embarrassing for me to see George, my old Liverpool mate who’d always had all the girls looking at him with big calf eyes since he’d been about twelve, on the end of the telephone, acting like a lovesick calf himself, as he pleaded with Pattie on the bar phone at whatever club she happened to be in. Pattie was so beautiful. She was his first big love and he couldn’t stand the pain. In the end, being excessively worshipped and being the worshipper, were too much for both of them - she wasn’t for him.”

Now Bramwell’s credibility is also questionable.  I have a hard time believing that George was crying while begging Pattie to come home, I could see something like this happening where he is more annoyed or passive-aggressive with her if she did this, but I think if anything like this happened then Bramwell certainly exaggerated it to make it more dramatic than it actually was. 

Here’s a story from Pete Shotton that was at a party that was held for the private screening of Magical mystery tour.

“Another unpleasant scene developed toward the end of the party when a band took to the stage and most of the guests paired off to dance. Totally ignoring Cyn (who was decked out for the occasion as a fairy princess), John instead lavished all his attentions on Pattie Harrison - with whom he actually went as far as to “dance”, probably for the first time in five years. Though Pattie had undeniably made herself especially desirable as a scantily clad belly dancer, neither Cyn nor George were the least bit amused with John’s open flirtation with her.”

I think in this scenario it’s impossible not to be a little jealous, who wants their friend flirting with their wife?

He also like Paul with Jane wanted Pattie to cut down on her career/ stop it all together. I think part of this reason was because he didn’t like other men looking at his wife, but I think there are a few reasons why he disliked her modeling, that’s just one of them.

And of course, there’s the whole Pattie/Clapton affair, but I don’t know if he was ever possessive over Pattie during that. I think he was more just sad and hurt, there may have been some jealousy in there but I think that developed a little later when it became more serious. At first, I doubt he saw Eric as a threat, but as things continued I think he found it annoying that this dude was pursing his wife and eventually I think he was deeply upset when he knew Pattie reciprocated Eric’s feelings, but I think he tried to bury those feelings.

 I don’t think Ringo ever got overly possessive over Mo or Barbara, least I haven’t heard many stories of this. Mo for most of the marriage (Until near the end) was utterly devoted to Ringo and I think he knew that he was comfortable with her. And he and Barbara have gone through so much together that I’m sure they’re passed all that.

Although I do think he was hurt by the George/Maureen affair, I think it was more like “damn this is the final straw, our marriage was already on its last leg” which is pretty sad.

But that’s pretty much my knowledge on the Beatles being possessive over their women.

[gloves94]

The Munter [Paul McCartney] 1

Warnings: None Pairings: Paul McCartney/OC Summary: Sage O'Shea is a hardworking woman of the 1960's. A strange combination of brains and- well- Let's just say she is not your average beauty. Au contraire she's a Munter. John bets Paul that he wouldn't dare date such a monstrous woman. Despite his best judgement Paul agrees and takes John on his daring bet. Will Paul be able to see Sage's true beauty? What's going to happen when poor Sage finds out about their nasty bet? Whether the results are pretty or not- one thing I can say is love works in mysterious ways. Paul McCartney x OC *Comments and reviews are appreciated.* *Character development* *ALL EVENTS IN THIS STORY ARE FICTIONAL*

My fanfiction: M A S T E R L I S T

1. Meet the Beatles

Monday November 4th, 1963

The lights were bright and blinding. The Royal Command Performance was tonight, and it had sold out. People of all types, sexes and classes stood as this evening's audience. Women in the audience sobbed and pulled their hair, a sexual madness being liberated from their souls.

In their own private section sat: Queen Elizabeth II, Lord Snowdon and Princess Margaret. Even the British Monarchy had bothered to step down from their royal duties to witness this evening's performance.

The boys were feeling lively and they did what they knew they did best: they made music.

Ringo Starr sat with his drums his arms sore from keeping a lively beat up, head cheerily bobbing from side to side. George Harisson stood coolly holding his guitar, strumming along, a wide grin making way to his face; he still couldn't come to terms of where he was standing tonight. Paul McCartney sang along to "I Saw Her Standing There", tapping his foot and slightly bouncing as he played his bass. And John Lennon, well-

"Will the people in the cheaper seats clap their hands? And the rest of you, if you'll just rattle your jewelry!" he shouted wittily mid performance.

The crowd shouted even louder. On the bright side the thing about being blinded by the lights and deafened by adoring shrieks is that you can't even think about being nervous.

Just what was this madness beginning to unfold?

Little did they know that it was only the beginning of Beatle-mania...

The concert was a wild success. Even the Queen sent her congratulations and seemed pleased by the night's performance. So did the crazed fans that chased after the get-away car when the band exited through the stage's backdoor.

The after party followed. John was having the time of his life messing with some old geezers that had arrived at the lavish penthouse party they threw. A pair of long legs that strolled in caught his attention.

Of course, nothing his wife would ever know about…

Paul sat coolly in a love seat two cookie-cutter blonde models wrapped around his arms, laughing at his lame jokes and stroking his chest. George was drunk as a skunk and was uncharacteristically laughing loudly at some joke that Ringo made, at the same time he stuffed his face with a handful of finger sandwiches. Ringo was in the zone, the life of the party like always, cracking jokes, popping expensive bottles of champagne and dancing the night away. Nearby was an annoyed waiter who would've rather be asleep.

The only thing keeping him awake at this late hour were the colorful bills that John kept stuffing in his pockets.

The waiter looked at growing zeros on the tab, which only continued growing before Ringo signed off on it. At this rate he'd never have to work another day in his life!

Little did they know that the four of them were about to receive a foul wake-up call.

xxx

Brian Epstein, the Beatle's manager, stood tall. He was a no non-sense type of serious businessman. He flickered a minuscule speck of dust that rested on his shoulder of his clean suit at 8:00 AM sharp.

They were late. Of course, they were, they were always late. Even Paul, who was usually the most noble out of the four, was late.

He had been phoning their homes all night and had been unable to find any of them. In the process he had even awoken Cynthia, John's hot-tempered wife, who was not in the slightest pleased. It was after calling all of the five-star hotels in the city of London that he was finally able to get ahold of them. Of course, all four of them were together.

"You're late!" Epstein barked angrily as the fabulous four finally strolled inside of the room- about thirty minutes after his wake-up call. Ringo was holding onto his blistering headache he stumbled from side to side as he walked in still drunk. George seemed to be semi-composed. He wore dark sunglasses in order to hide his sleepy eyes and carried a bag of English muffins for breakfast. He was still wearing last night's clothes. Paul looked almost dead from lack of sleep his usually neatly trimmed hair was messy and sticking up in all directions. A shameless trail of hickeys branded his neck. John stomped in angrily not understanding why their manager had taken the time to phone them all up and had snitched to his wife on where he had actually spent the night.

"Do we have to do this so early?" groaned Ringo as he rubbed his tired eyes and threw himself down on one of the rotating chairs on the dull meeting room they were currently in.

The others did the same.

"Oi, Georgie what are ya havin'?" John said rolling his head from the sofa seat and hungrily eyeing the English muffin the handsome Beatle was about to stuff into his mouth. He paused for a moment and the slightest grin made way to his face.

"Not Paul, that's for sure," he said teasing as he glanced at the purple bruises on his friend’s neck.

Paul's hand reached for his neck and he covered the love bites from the previous night. He flashed George an irritated look. John laughed and persisted on asking for a muffin. George retorted that heshould've picked up muffins instead of going home to change clothes and receive a scolding from his wife. Ringo continued to complain-

"Enough!"Brian snapped on his last nerve.

"I swear, the four of you. Just like children..." he shook his head on the brink of losing his mind.

'And their career is barely launching off...'he rubbed his temples stressed out.

There was a long table in the empty meeting room. The four men sat on one side of the table facing their manager and friend.

"If you are wondering why I have gathered you here on this fine morning-" he said before violently ripping open the blinds of a window allowing a flash of white sunlight to fill the room. All men but George flinched at the brightness of the unusually sunny day in England.

"It's because all four of you are completely out of control!"

Paul was about to protest, but Brian remained rambling.

"I know you are excited. Your careers are taking off, but you gotta remain in line. Don't lose control. Don't fall into vices so early in the game," he said roughly scolding his band. "And you know what else is out of control? Your finances!"

This time none of them complained, it was true.

"You're stirring hurricanes in mugs!" George protested annoyed.

"Yeah- what's the big deal? We'll just draw more from the bank-" Ringo said casually.

"And this is exactly why we have a problem," Brian sighed, shaking his head. He feared that if they continued spending and acting this way- well, their fame and fortune would be short lived. He would never forgive himself if that happened. Then again, he'd also be unemployed.

"So- all of you are here this morning because we are having interviews. We will be hiring an assisting accountant to help you four with your finances (and teach you about how to use your money)."

The Beatles tidied up a bit and fixed their appearance ready for the interviews. The first interviewer that came in was a man that could've easily been Paul's grandpa. John didn't even give him a moment.

"Next!" Paul shouted abruptly.

"Yeah, if we wanted a porker around here we'd go to the butcher's instead! Oink! Oink!" John snorted before bursting out in a fit of giggles and high fiving Paul.

The other sniggered like school children. The man gasped, apparently, he was a highly renowned retired professor from Oxford and had just been compared to a swine. "Well I never-!" the man gasped and scurried out of the room with his folders.

"Zip it! Lennon! This is not an audition. These people are professionals!"

Brian scolded John and the others and barked out that they were to be respectful. Other professionals came in. They all showed promise and years of experience. None caught the men's attention. It was then that the first woman came in her name was Dinah Davis. She seemed competent and was an average looking woman with years of experience. But she had something that none of the other candidates did... Two very big assets.

The Beatles kept a complete silence as she spoke. Brian eyeing them carefully, he was waiting for it to come- the snarky comment, the mean joke.

It was then that George passed a note to Paul. Paul read it and smirked, then he wrote something on it and passed it to John.

"Hired Ms. Double D," John said blatantly.

The woman ran out of the room sobbing.

Brian warned John not to objectify any of these hardworking women. He was threatened that if he didn't keep his trap shut, bad things would come to him. John could be such a swine sometimes. “What! Those are her initials! I don’t see why she took it so hard.”

More came and went, but none were successful. Until one finally stole their hearts.

A red heel clicked as it stepped inside of the small office. The sound resounded Ringo's ears and he jumped in his chair standing up erect. George's eyes caught sight of a long leg and a mini skirt. John's eyes trailed from the bottom of that heel all the way up to the plumped cleavage she was showing off. Paul almost lost his balance as he leant forward over the table head over heels. The woman before them could've been a model She was straight down the definition of sexy.

She looked almost like she could be Bridgette Bardot's sister, a tall, blonde, bombshell with popping red lips. Paul smoothly covered his hickeys with his palm and flashed her the boyish sly smile he was infamous for, and George removed his sunglasses blinking at the harsh sunlight as he did.

She hadn't even introduced herself when John shouted "Hired!"

Brian rolled his eyes, "She hasn't even introduced herself!"

"That comes later. Over dinner, perhaps?" Paul added with a wink.

The woman before them giggled and handed Brian her curriculum vitae.

"Isabel Murdock," he read the title. In her resume he observed some experience and recommendations, but nothing out of this world. Most of it consisted on modeling jobs, there was nothing in accounting or finance. He looked at the way that the men were hungrily looking at the woman and the flirtatious looks she was giving them back. This was a bad idea. This woman was completely under qualified and she had gotten hired on the spot over professors from Oxford because Lennon was thinking with his boner.

Brian sighed. He rubbed his temples in frustration. So many professionals had come and gone, and they were going to settle, for her. He didn't know what to do. And so, he prayed for a miracle. He looked up at the dirty ceiling pleading to his deity for a sign, anything, or anyone that could take care of this issue.

His prayers were answered, and his miracle stormed in the shape of a whirlwind of a door slam and flying papers up on the air. His eyes snapped down back to reality and he saw a woman on her knees struggling to grab all of her scattered papers, security attempting to hold her back. Half of her dress was soaking wet and her hair was a tangled mess.

"Miss! You are late, no more interviews," one of the guards said escorting her out.

"Wait-" Brian called. He looked at the woman's panicked face.

"Let her in. Show us what you've got darlin', yes?" he said carefully. Could this be the miracle that he had asked for?

Isabel, the tall blonde, who stood in the middle of the room hands on her tiny waist brought a hand to her face to hide her cruel laughter.

"T-Thank you," the shy woman said coyly. Terribly embarrassed after having faceplanted in the initial second of her interview.

Ringo averted his eyes and pretended not to look at the woman. George attempted to fight every muscle on his face but failed and held a cringing expression. Paul's eyes went wide in what he couldn’t decide to be shock or horror and John's mouth was blatantly ajar. For the first time in what seemed to be forever he had gone mute. How was it possible for someone to look like that?

John could’ve sworn the ugliest woman in all of London was standing before him.

She was the fitted definition of a Munter it was her.

She was a Munter,word origin from the word monster. She was a woman of such hideous physical appearance that one would rather scour one’s eyes out than snatch any glimpse of her.

The woman that had just come in had bushy dark brown hair, her skin was stained with faded freckles, she wore her face bare and nude and had a pair of thick, massive circular glasses which hid her eyes from any prying ones. Paul cringed at her eyebrows which were thick, hairy, bushy almost like a dangerous caterpillar. A part of him was expecting it to jump at him. And to top it all she was dressed like Ringo's grandmother!

Amongst other flaws...

"Good-good afternoon," she managed bashfully.

"My name is Sage O'Shea," she said meekly before the Beatles. She could feel her ears burning she didn’t know if it was due to the embarrassment or due to the presence of the four really handsome men before her. The model standing next to the short woman looked down at her with apathy. There was no absolute way that she was getting this job.

She spoke about her resume, and how she had graduated as the top of her class and proceeded to explain what her experience was and how she had previously worked as an assistant and accountant for the owner of a local clothing store for some years until it closed down.

John visibly cringed at her appearance. Paul raised both of his brows in horror at her looks 'Had she ever looked at herself in a mirror?’ He thought shallowly.

"We'll I'd say our decision has been made, yes lads?" Brian said smiling proudly at the woman wearing the bulky sweater that deformed her. The dirty water that had splashed her only made her appearance worse. She was perfect for the job. She had the brains and she wasn't what you would consider a "looker" meaning that there would be absolutely no distractions.

"It seems so," Paul said through a thin, impolite smile.

"Yeah- Ms. Murdoch welcome to the team," John clapped his hands a wide grin on his face. Isabel flipped her perfect, golden hair over her shoulder and smiled with her perfect Miss Universe lips. The other one took in a deep breath her knees shaking slightly. She looked at the faces of the four men sitting in front of her with horror. She reallyneeded this job…

In the eyes of the handsome men, she was invisible.

Of course they wouldn’t notice someone like her…

Without another word she quickly scurried out of the room. She was outside of Abbey Road studios when she collapsed on the cold front steps no longer being able to stand up. Tears immediately poured out of her eyes like rivers down her flushed cheeks. The day she had had. Waking up late, running to the interview, being robbed of her breakfast on the way, getting splashed by a passing car, tackled by security and then collapsing in front of four of the most important musicians of the day.

What was she to do now? What would her life be like?

She knew that she wasn't pretty enough to marry and what had been the whole point of all her efforts of her being the number one in her class if no one would hire her? This had been her fifth interview and still there was nothing. What would she tell her mother? What was she going to do? And with the rent coming up...

She clenched her fist as she furiously wiped her tears. It was always the same.

Anger boiled in the pits of her stomach. That other woman...

Despite having zero experience, she had gotten the job on the spot, just for being pretty. The situation was infuriating. It wasn't fair...

It was then that she heard shift footsteps and suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder.

"I'll be on my way security," she answered automatically sniffling, furiously wiping away her hot tears.

"Wait," It was Brian Epstein.

He kindly pried his eyes away from the hideous woman. "Oi, we're not done with you," he said placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

They returned upstairs. Sage kept on whispering apologies for her tears as she wiped them from her red, puffy, face. She stepped in before Brian. Even more embarrassed and nervous than the first time.

"Very well then," Brian clapped his hands together.

"I think we've decided that we will be hiring both Ms. Murdoch, and Ms.-" He glanced at the brunette expecting an answer.

"We have made a decision?" John scoffed under his breath to George who was sitting next to him. "He practically decided to bring in that horrid thing!" George allowed an amused snort to escape his nose.

"O'Shea, Sage O'Shea," she repeated her name. "Ah, we have an Irish woman amongst us," Brian mentioned in an attempt to alleviate the awkward tension in the room. The mousy woman simply shrugged not liking the attention she was receiving. She wasn’t Irish and didn't even bother in correcting him.

"So, since we will have two assistant accountants, I think it's best that we split up accounts, two and two? How does that sound? One of you takes two of the boys; the other takes the other two-"

"Oi-Yeah, I'll have the lush one?" John called out barbarically in front of both of them. Isabel simply allowed a charming laugh to flirt with John. His words felt like daggers digging into Sage's skin. She crossed her arms over her chest feeling even more insecure. For a moment she hesitated in whether she should even take the job or not. So far, the work environment did not seem inviting in the least.

"John!" Brian hissed dangerously with scolding eyes. Not that John even cared. He simply mouthed an annoyed 'what?'

Paul nodded, his eyes fixed on the blonde "Second that."

"Not fair," Ringo muttered under his breath annoyed.

"I guess it's settled then; I'll keep an eye on John and Paul's accounts, and- what was your name? And Serg over here will take George and Bingo's," she smiled and clapped her hands. "It's Ringo," he coughed loud enough for her to hear. He was insulted. "Right, Dingo," the blonde absentmindedly repeated his name wrong, again. No one seemed to notice or even bothered correcting Isabel from calling Sage or Ringo by the wrong name. It didn't seem to matter to them. Even Sage didn't have the spine to stand up to the beautiful woman after John’s terrible comments. Ringo slightly frowned.

Brian went over some of the details for the schedule in which the women would work and what their accounting, mentoring and assistant duties consisted on. The Beatles introduced themselves to the women, Paul charmingly kissing Isabel's hand and awkwardly nodded in Sage's direction. John didn't even introduce himself to Sage! Only George and Ringo had the decency of doing it like proper human beings. Then again, they were going to be the one's working with her. Then they left.

Both women signed some official documents and Brian reminded them how lucky they were. He had to step out of the room to make some copies leaving just Isabel and Sage alone in the office room.

Sage sat slouched over, with her nose buried in some of the papers that Brian had given them. She pretended like Isabel wasn't sitting next to her towering in height, grace and beauty.

"Listen, I don't know what you pretend you are doing," Isabel said leaning back on her chair. Sage only looked at her with her eyes wide.

"It's obvious that this is going to be a competition and if I were you I'd give up now, before things get ugly. Uglier than you that is!" Isabel laughed cruel. Savoring every bit of her mean taunting.

Sage remained composed. The taunting wasn't anything new to her. Isabel wasn’t the first bully she had met. Sage knew she hadn’t been blessed with the gift of beauty and damn did people make sure that she was aware of that fact. "What? Don't tell me you don't even have the spine to retort something, anything clever, please?" the words rolled off her tongue in a bored tone.

Deciding on being the bigger person Sage bit her tongue.

"Sticks and stones might break my bones, but words will never break me," she said lamely. Just further igniting Isabel's pleasure. She prayed that Brian would return back to the room just so that Isabel could quit her provocations and she'd be safe again.

"Who taught you how to say that? Your mummy?" She proceeded pressing all of the red trigger buttons.

"It's not my fault that you're under qualified and must take out your insecurities and anger out on me," she said in a calm tone exhaling a sigh. It was a simple non-threatening phrase, but it was just enough to send Isabel over the edge. Which was something that Sage had not intended to do-

"Underqualified?" she coughed in disbelief. "Are you implying that I'm some sort of gold-digging slag?"

The mousy woman blinked twice perplexed.

"Hey, you said it, not me," Sage raised both of her eyebrows in amusement before shaking her head and turning back to her documents.

"Well, if I were you I'd mind my own business!" Isabel snapped. "And I'd wax that horrid mustache off your horrid face. The Dalí look has been out for years," she said pleased with her petty insult.

Sage's hand insecurity reached for the edges of her lips. Isabel sniggered as the other woman glared.

For different reasons, each with their own personal agenda, both decided to take the job.

xxx First: [here] Next: 2. 

[thesassybooskter]

LEFT by Mary Hogan: Release Spotlight & Excerpt

NOW AVAILABLE / HARPER COLLINS

In this beautifully crafted novel from the author of the critically-acclaimed Two Sisters, comes the story of a woman who retreats into a fantasy world on New York City’s Upper West Side as she slowly loses her once whip-smart husband to dementia—perfect for fans of Still Alice.

  When life falls apart, a little fantasy goes a long way…

It started as a dream vacation in Spain, with Fay and Paul Agarra enjoying all the delights of a European holiday. A respected New York City judge, Paul has always been the man Fay can rely on, no matter what. When he inexplicably disappears from a Barcelona street corner, Fay knows something is terribly wrong. Once reunited, Paul shrugs off the episode as a simple misunderstanding—but Fay suspects her almost perfect life has taken a dark and sudden turn.

Soon there are more signs that Paul is beginning to change. Bouts of forgetfulness lead to mistakes in the courtroom. Simple tasks cause unexplainable outbursts of anger. Fay’s worst suspicions are realized when she learns her husband—her rock, her love, her everything—is succumbing to the ravages of dementia. 

As her husband transforms before her very eyes, Fay copes with her fears by retreating into a fantasy life filled with promise instead of pain. In Fay’s invented world, she imagines herself living a glamorous life free from heartache, with a handsome neighbor she barely knows rescuing her from a future she can’t accept. 

Poignant and beautifully crafted, Left is an unforgettable tale about life’s aching uncertainties—and a woman who discovers that somewhere between hope and reality, an unexpected future will find its way forward.

  Buy Online: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iBooks

Add to Goodreads

  Excerpt

I’d pushed for sightseeing. Of course. Málaga—the birthplace of Picasso—is an artist’s dream. Color everywhere. The Persian blue Mediterranean Sea, butter yellow high-rises, marmalade rooftops, basil green mountains, air the color of honey. Paul would have been happy relaxing at the cottage, puzzling over words like “spork” in the New York Times crossword. Not me. I needed to see color the way other women needed to eat chocolate.

“Orange.” It’s what John—Paul’s teenage son—had answered when I’d asked him what color he wanted to paint his bedroom.

“Carrot, pumpkin, or cantaloupe?” My face was as inscrutable as Mona Lisa’s. Back then, John was in a Trainspotting phase. Peroxided hair, black turtlenecks, Lou Reed, heroin

chic. He liked to test us. In those early days, I was a young stepmother learning on the fly.

Stupidly, Paul and I bought a run-down duplex apartment on Manhattan’s Upper West Side when we were newlyweds. Marriage, I learned quickly, was hard enough without Sheetrock dust all over your clothes. Still, the moment I set foot in that space, I knew it was my home. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a bricked garden on the ground floor. And, its own special gift: a sunny nook for my easel. It was everything I ever wanted. Worth our sweat and tears.

Every other weekend, Paul’s son lived with us. When it came time to paint his room, he smirked when he replied,

“Carrot.”

Paul weighed in from behind a newspaper. “N.O.”

“It’s my room!” All teenage grimace and pimply flush, John stamped his foot like a child.

“In my apartment,” said Paul.

“Our apartment,” I gently reminded him. “And it’s John’s room. Why not let him pick the color? It’s only paint.”

Paul shot me a dark look; I helped him lighten up.

In the paint store, John chose a sickening nacho color. Paul opened his mouth to protest, but I silenced him with a tented brow. What did it matter? John was a good kid. A teenager, yes—moody, slouchy, occasionally reeking of hormonal funk—but tolerable. He chuckled when I said, “We should get two dogs named George and Ringo. You know, round out the band?” I loved him for not groaning. When John was with his dad, Paul, I’m sure he heard comments like that all the time.

Seriously, I could have done worse. Paul could have had a daughter.

“It’s not like he’s doing heroin,” I quietly told my brand-new husband.

In the screech of a Primal Scream CD, the three of us painted the walls—and ceiling!—of John’s bedroom. Afterward, sitting on the floor eating pizza, Paul’s son looked around and said, “This is the ugliest room I’ve ever seen.”

We all got a good laugh out of that.

John is a coder now. He lives in Boston with a beautiful wife and amazing daughter. Like I said, it was only paint.

“Fay is wise beyond my years.” It’s Paul’s favorite quip. Or was. Whenever he said it, he threw his head back and howled at his own cleverness. My husband’s laugh was an invitation to join his party. What I wouldn’t give to hear that sound one more time.

***

“Grilled sardines on the beach in El Palo?” I suggested on our cottage patio, in Spain’s afternoon light.

“Too many Speedos.”

“A trek up Gibralfaro?”

“So darn uphill.”

“How about a stroll along Calle Larios in central Málaga?”

 “Watch every Latin lover ogle my wife?”

“Paul.”

“Spoon and fork!” he yelped, filling in the crossword. Then he set the puzzle aside and joined me in touring Málaga. Because he loved me.

I loved that city. It felt like warm bread to me. Irresistible. The sort of city a person could devour when she felt cold or empty.

Each day, Paul and I strolled the avenidas. Leisurely, like Spaniards. We left our New York pace at home. In the nave of La Manquita, we blessed ourselves with holy water and sat in dark pews to soak up the angelic rays slanting down from the heavenly stained glass windows. My husband lassoed me into the crook of his arm, pressed a kiss on my temple, and whispered, “Seeing you in this light is worth the trip.”

I grinned, blissful. Wrapping my arm around Paul’s soft waist, I quietly leaned in to kiss the baby skin under his chin, the spot I owned. My body fit so snugly into his I almost heard a click as we interlocked. In Paul Agarra’s devouring hug, the world and its perils were safely caged away.

Our life is a postcard, I thought, clueless. With a contented smile, I rested my cheek against my husband’s strong shoulder.

Love as it should be.

Not once, not ever, did I regret my choice. Not after our first anniversary or our last one: our twenty-second. In the early days of our marriage, I raised my right hand in the air and vowed, “I, Fay Agarra, do solemnly swear to allow my husband to be exactly who he is.” Paul promised, too. Our word to each other. We’d never expect the other to be older or younger. Paul wasn’t my dad; I wasn’t his midlife crisis. In the shower, Paul sang obscure blues songs about somebody doing somebody wrong. I danced the Macarena in our living

room. I added blond streaks to the front of my brown hair; Paul let his temples go peppery gray. I tolerated his Tom Selleck mustache (for a while); he patiently waited for me to blow-dry my “Rachel.”

After two miscarriages, my husband consoled an inconsolable me. He softly said, “Okay, love,” when I refused to try again. After my mother, my brother, my dad, I couldn’t bear to lose anyone else.

Men my age seemed like boys, heads bent over their cell phones as if the present moment was never riveting enough. Eyes roaming the other tables in a restaurant; brows cocked when a woman asked a waiter, “Do fries come with that?”

Paul is different. He’s a grown man. Words of commitment never get trapped behind overly bleached teeth.

I love you. You’re mine. We’re us.

Yeah, it shouldn’t have worked. Yet it did. Until it didn’t.

  About Mary Hogan

Mary Hogan is the bestselling author of Two Sisters and the historical novel, The Woman in the Photo. Previous novels include the young adult titles, The Serious Kiss, Perfect Girl and Pretty Face (HarperCollins). Mary lives in New York City with her husband, actor Robert Hogan, and their Catahoula Leopard rescue dog, Lucy. Visit maryhogan.com to find out more!

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LEFT by Mary Hogan: Release Spotlight & Excerpt was originally published on The Sassy Bookster