Register & Login HERE

Here at AUTHORSdB we've formed the only database of authors, including social media, book listings and much more, for today's mine-field of thousands of aspiring and established writers.

We are a dedicated website that helps authors for free.

Spring's Eternal Song Cover Reveal


It's almost the first day of spring, and with that comes a new book release! I've been holding onto this one for a very long time and I'm so happy to finally be able to release this for you all to enjoy! Why did I hold onto it for so long? Timing, it's everything, right? I originally wrote this as a writing prompt for a publisher. When that didn't pan out, I set it to the side when my life got busy. Now, I've taken some time to make it what I wanted it to be (versus what the publisher had laid out for requirements). The idea for this story came from a real life event, but of course everything else is fictitious. I could go on and on about this book and how much I love Spring and Vince, but I'll let the review below speak for itself. It does a fantastic job of telling you about this story! Spring and Vince release on March 20, 2018, but it's available for preorder on Amazon! (Will be part of Kindle Unlimited) Read on for more!



Will Vince’s deep spiritual connection to Spring, and her fighting spirit, be enough to bring her back from the brink of death?

Spring Lewis knows death. As a nurse in the ICU, she has experienced more than her share of it at only twenty-seven. She's also acutely aware not everyone who dies stays in the afterlife. She convinces herself she's still single because no man can deal with what her job requires of her, but her heart knows the truth. She’s scared of losing another person she loves.

Vince Roundtree has devoted his life to one thing, music. As the tuba professor at the University of Hedgeford, he spends his day shaping the lives of young people and his nights questioning every aspect of his personal life. He struggles to find his identity as an over thirty-five-year-old male in a dating world meant for twenty-five-year-olds, and it hasn’t been easy.

One early spring evening, in a darkened Hedgeford park, Spring and Vince's paths intersect, jarring them both out of their boring lives and offering them a future together, if they can put aside past hurts. As their budding romance grows, Spring stumbles across the truth about a secret someone in Hedgeford, Wisconsin has been harboring. He’s good at silencing people, and he will do it again to keep from being exposed. A mother’s anguish, and eight determined souls, will convince Spring to reveal a cover-up too hot to handle. It will be up to Vince to save her from certain death, but only if he can find her before time runs out.

A raindrop landed on my face and I groaned as my head tipped up toward the sky. “Really? Would you be kind enough to hold off until I get home?” I asked the ominous clouds. 

“What fun would that be?” asked a booming voice from behind me.

I jumped and spun around at the same time, ready to fight whomever was attached to the voice. A man stood in front of me, his hands up as though I held a gun instead of a phone.

“Sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean to scare you. I need to think before I speak.”

I blew out a breath and it ruffled the hair sticking out of my hat. “No problem, I’m always a little jumpy at night in the park. I feel like I’m holding my breath all the way home.”

“Are you a college student?” he asked, not moving a step in any direction, his hands still in the air.

“Not anymore. I work at Sacred Heart Hospital, but I missed the last bus. It was up to my tired dogs to get me home.” I paused and waited, but he remained rooted in place, hands up at his shoulders, and his feet planted in an upside-down V. I motioned at him. “Please put your hands down; people might think I’ve got a gun.”

He lowered his hands while he laughed, and it made me smile. His voice had a deep richness to it, but the low tone of his laughter left me with the impression of vibrato at the end as it floated into the air.

“We don’t want anyone to make a citizen’s arrest. I suppose you better be on your way if you want to beat the rain.”

I shrugged nonchalantly, enjoying our banter. “In hindsight, a little rain never hurt anyone. Unless you’re a snowman, then rain will end you.”

He laughed again and stuck his hand out. “All too true, my dear. My name is Vince.”

I grasped his giant paw for only a moment. “As in Lombardi?” I asked.

The smile returned to his face, as though everyone asked him the same question. “Yes, my father insisted his first son would carry the name of his all-time favorite Green Bay Packer coach.”

“Do you play football?” I asked, sizing him up. He could be a defensive linebacker. He was easily six foot six, and over three bills.

He shook his head and stuck his hands in his pockets, starting to stroll again. “No, I might carry the name around with me, but I never cared for the game. I preferred being on the field with the marching band.”

“You don’t say?” I asked as we sauntered through the park, which was surrounded by concrete roads on all sides. Your brain understood your time in nature wouldn’t last long, but while you were in the park, your focus lay elsewhere, like on the wrought iron benches and lampposts made to appear as if they’ve been there for generations.

Both of his shoulders shrugged, and his hands rose out of his pockets a few inches. “I played the tuba.”

I started to giggle, and he eyed me, offended. “Sorry, I wasn’t laughing about the tuba. I always had great respect for the guy lugging the enormous tooter down the miles-long parade route. I was laughing because I played the flute. Talk about opposite ends of the instrument spectrum.”

The offended hunch of his shoulders eased, and he brushed a piece of curly black hair away from his face. “I play the flute too, but much prefer the tuba. A guy the size of me playing something the size of a flute, looks a little fruity.”

I leaned into him for a moment. “It depends on who you ask. I think a guy who isn’t afraid to put aside his masculinity for something he enjoys doing is rare these days.”

We strolled silently for ten or twelve steps and then he paused. “You’re right. I never looked at it from that perspective. At my age I shouldn’t be afraid of the old high school stigmas anymore. I might have to dig the flute out of the closet and give it a good cleaning and shine.”

“You know what they say about us flutists,” I said, waiting for him to finish the line.

“This one time, at band camp,” he deadpanned.

We both broke into a fit of laughter until we had to sit down on a bench to catch our breath. I stuck my hand out. “I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Spring.”

He shook my hand again, making sure not to squeeze too tight. I could tell by the way my hand slid around in his, as though it was no bigger than a child’s, he was used to being careful when shaking hands. It was clear I dwarfed him in every physical way possible, but his personality loomed large. He wasn’t timid or afraid to strike up a conversation. That’s rare these days.

“Nice to meet you, Spring. I’ve always thought it was a beautiful name.”

I smiled at his compliment. “Thank you. I was born on March twentieth, so my parents thought it fitting to name me Spring. I suppose it’s the reason it’s my favorite season.”

He nodded along as if he was listening to every word I said. Something I’ve found increasingly absent in conversation since the days of texting and instant messaging. “They picked a wonderful name for you, and you carry it well.” He took a deep breath in and glanced around. “It sure does feel good to breathe clean, fresh spring air after such a long winter, though. Even if it is going to rain.”

I lifted my face to the sky. The rain had held off during our conversation, but I didn’t think it would for much longer. “I love winter skiing and snowshoeing, but I’m happy when spring has worked its way back to us for the year. The ICU is always busy in the winter with people doing incredibly dumb things on the ice, the road, or snowmobile trails.”

He frowned. “Well, thanks Debbie Downer, I hadn’t thought of winter as the grim reaper before.”

I laughed and folded my hands on my lap. “Sorry, hazard of the job. As a nurse, I’ve had to learn how to put things in perspective or I’ll lose my mind thinking about the fragility of life.”

“I bet you do. It must be hard to be a nurse and know you can’t save them all. I couldn’t do it,” he said, gazing off in the distance.

“What do you do? Are you finishing college?”

A bark of laughter escaped his lips at my question. “Thanks for inflating my ego. I would love to say I’m college age, but in fact, I teach college. I’m the professor of tuba at the university.”

My brows rose into the air. “There’s such a thing as a professor of tuba?”

He gave me the palms up. “Apparently, because here I am.”

I laughed sarcastically and rolled my eyes upward at myself. “Yeah, I’m dumb. I never said I’m not socially awkward. Doesn’t it take years and years to become a professor? You don’t seem old enough to be teaching already.”

“I’m thirty-seven. Surprising, I know,” he answered, watching my face go into shock at his admission. “I stayed in school after the first four years and got my masters and doctorate at the same time. I’ve been teaching for four years now. It took some time to get a faculty position once I graduated, so I worked for orchestras and symphonies around the Midwest in the meantime.”

My face still showed shock, but I couldn’t process what he was telling me. “You got your masters and doctorate at the same time? Are you a genius or something?”

He leaned forward on his thighs. “Or something.”

We both stood at the same time and I tucked my hands in my pockets as we hiked toward the streetlight at the end of the park. “It’s cool. I see dead people, so being a tuba genius isn’t weird to me.”


Katie Mettner's Spring's Eternal Song offers readers a little bit of everything. This book is impressive in terms of the range of issues and themes it explores, doing so with grace and realism. Spring is a lonely nurse who pours every ounce of herself into her work. She's lonely because she shuts people out--with good reason. She has a secret that has damaged important, core relationships in her life and that makes her afraid to let people in, but when she meets Vince walking home from work one evening, slowly things begin to change. I don't want to give too much away but Spring and Vince begin to fall in love and although he's very accepting of her secret abilities, those abilities put Spring's life in danger. Like I said, this book has everything: romance, mystery, thrills, family drama, and a touch of the supernatural that is so well done it fits perfectly into the narrative and carries it right along. I love that, as always, Mettner's treatment of the romance between the main characters is very realistic. She brings together two people who have struggled with real-world issues, particularly family dynamics. Neither is perfect and neither has traveled a drama-free path, but they connect to one another and are willing to fight to maintain that connection. They also try hard to bring out the best in one another even when it proves difficult. This is the kind of romance novel where, when I've finished it, I think, "Those two characters actually will spend the rest of their lives together." There is a lasting, genuine quality about the relationships that Mettner brings to life in her work. That said, Mettner injects a great deal of mystery and intrigue into this poignant, beautiful romance between these two very relatable characters, making this book a bonafide page-turner. You know the book is good when you have to put your entire life on hold to finish it! Through her abilities, Spring becomes aware of a series of accidents that she begins to suspect are crimes. She works on her own to solve the mystery of what happened and the result is bone-chilling and riveting. What I love most about this novel though is the way Mettner seamlessly weaves the romance and suspense together to keep you frantically turning pages well into the night--evoking a wide variety of visceral responses with her authentic characters and her elegant writing.

Lisa Regan ~ Bestselling Author of Finding Claire Fletcher and Vanishing Girls


Katie Mettner writes from a little house in the Northwoods of Wisconsin. She's the author of more than thirty romance novels, all featuring a disabled hero or heroine. Most of her series are set in the Midwest and are a mix of new adult and romantic suspense.

Katie lives with her soulmate, whom she met online at Thanksgiving and married the following April. Together they share their lives with their three children and one very special leopard gecko named Gibbs. Katie has a slight addiction to Twitter and blogging, with a lessening aversion to Pinterest now that she quit trying to make the things she pinned.


My first rejection
Frequently Asked Question: How do you celebrate wh...

Related Posts


By accepting you will be accessing a service provided by a third-party external to