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A Julliard graduate and former member of the Philharmonic
Orchestra, Melody hasn’t played anything since her parents
were killed in a tragic car accident. But when her friend buys her
an old, weathered music score that seems to call to her, she is
She knew that playing again would be a freeing feeling, but she
never expected the action to open up a gateway to a world
where creation and the arts are dominant and emotions are not
frowned upon, but embraced. And she definitely never expected
to be tossed into the living room of a muse—a man who lives
and breathes music, who can calm her with a touch and make
her hear symphonies.
As Melody learns of Liron, his world, and his own loss, she
begins to heal, feel whole, and find herself again. But when the
connection to Melody’s world and the muse world is severed, will
the music Liron inspired, as well as the power of her love, be
enough to reunite them? More importantly, can Melody find the
strength within herself to face the past she has been running
from and do what needs to be done for the future she longs to
Before her parents’ accident, the three of them had lived and breathed music. It
had been the three of them for Melody’s entire life. While she’d had friends and
had never been a loner by any means, she had always preferred the company of
her mother and father above everyone else. They all understood one another.
They all spoke the same language—music. There was nothing now that they were
gone. There had been nothing for the last year. No music. No joy. No nothing. So
she filled her days up with mundane things that didn’t matter, distractions, just to
She had a job, a pitiful one, working as a sales clerk in a women’s clothing store.
She hated it with a passion. It wasn’t her, but that was why she had taken it. It had
nothing to do with music, nothing to do with the life that had been shattered.
But as she thought about it, she realized she wasn’t really accomplishing anything
by avoiding all that had once reminded her of what she’d loved. Like Rob had
pointed out, she still had pictures everywhere of her parents and the orchestra
they had all been a part of. And she couldn’t escape the fact that the love of music
still lived within her. It wasn’t going to disappear just because she turned her head
the other way and pretended she didn’t see it.
She’d done everything in her power to alter her life to not revolve around music
and the memories that would cause her pain, but it had only ended up causing her
pain anyway. And it made her sick to her stomach to think that, by turning her back
on what had made her life with her parents special, she had inadvertently turned
her back on them.
Self-loathing washed over Melody in waves while Nikki’s words from earlier
repeated in her mind. She had been right about one thing. Her parents wouldn’t
have liked her current course of action. It would have saddened them to see
Melody give up everything she had loved, everything she had worked for, just
because she was hurting, just because she was afraid.
She heaved a sigh as she got out of the tub, pulled the plug, and dried off. She
slipped into a light pink tank top and gray pajama bottoms and headed into the
kitchen. She put on the teakettle, thinking a cup of tea sounded relaxing, and
relaxation was the driving force of the evening, considering how rigorous the day
As she wandered back into the living room, her gaze fell upon the score of music
she’d set on her piano. She stared at it for a second, chewed on her bottom lip in
contemplation, and then went over to give it a closer look. She picked it up and
flipped through it gently, careful not to damage the well-worn pages. Glancing over
the notes, she tried to imagine what it would sound like, but came up short. Nothing
her mind could conjure would come anywhere near what it would actually sound
like when played.
She set the music back on the piano and stared at it a few minutes more, curiosity
gnawing at her. She was racked with indecision, not wanting and yet wanting to
play it all at the same time.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to force some calm to return.
Okay, no one was there. She didn’t need to worry about what anyone was going to
say, and no one was going to make a big deal and throw a party and gush over
how much progress she was making. And she wouldn’t be playing “Adagio in G
Minor,” which was really what she had a problem with more than anything.
She’d play for a second, just to see what the score sounded like, and if she started
to feel like her chest was going to constrict and she was going to have some kind
of anxiety attack, she would stop. Simple as that.
Making up her mind, Melody tentatively slid onto the piano seat and poised her
fingers over the keys. She let them rest there for a moment, testing the waters, so
to speak. A twinging pain went through her heart and left a dull ache in its wake,
but it was tolerable. Sucking in a breath, she looked at the first measure of music
and began to play.
It was a mournful song, slow and dark, gothic almost. She had planned to stop
after the first few measures, but once she started, two things happened. Wondrous
ecstasy coursed throughout her entire body as the music filled her soul once
again, and her fingers moved over the keys with grace and ease, like she had
never stopped playing. For one beautiful second, she felt like she’d come home.
That reason alone was enough to keep her there, but something else happened.
Something strange and all-consuming.
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