Look what Mira brought home!! Go read the entire review here. Oh, joy and glory! Thank you to everyone who has written to me saying how much you enjoy Desire in Any Language.
(Computer is slowly drying out, and it’s still a tossup whether it will still be usable. This old computer has such stiff keys that it is hard on my wrists. Speaking of hard on wrists, today I will let you see a sneak peek–and more than six sentences–of my April release, Simple Gifts. Leila, a professional violinist, is recovering from a case of tendonitis so severe that she has has to take leave from her symphony. She stays with Carene, her best friend from childhood who teaches orchestra in a small town. Carene trained to be a concert pianist but decided that she preferred to teach. Because Leila is out of a job, Carene sets her up with students for private violin lessons. The problem is that Leila is only used to teaching the best of the best. The other problem is that Carene has one unbreakable rule: No divas. Leila is about to find out just what that means…)
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Simple Gifts (publication date: April 2013 by Lazy Day)
“No, no, NO!” Leila jumped out of her chair and snatched the violin out of Brittany’s hands. At the piano, Carene frowned but stopped playing. They had agreed to respect each other’s methods in front of the students.
Leila tucked the violin, so oddly heavy and clunky compared to her own, and drew the bow across the strings. Instead of every beat played with dreary sameness, the notes danced off her fingers with a toe-tapping whirl. Instead of Brittany’s stolid and semi-correctly placed fingers, Leila’s scurried up and down the fingerboard. An accent here and a crescendo there with an infectious, lilting buildup to a climax followed by a tripping, bubbly skip of the notes downward.
Brittany’s eyes grew wide. She looked at her violin in awe, as if wondering how the same instrument could sound completely different in her teacher’s hands.
“That’s how it’s supposed to sound! Vivaldi wrote this concerto for his students!” Leila raged, thrusting the violin back toward Brittany. “For his beginning students who were too stupid to do anything serious. And you limp through the music every single week without improving a single bit. Do you even look at your violin in between lessons?”
“It’s hard,” Brittany mumbled, glancing over at Carene for help. “I practiced, honest I did, every day for two hours like you said.”
“Good God, do you mean you could be even worse? I was playing this when I was seven! And you’re what, fourteen now?” Leila flipped the music book back to the beginning page.
[. . .]
“Bye, Ms. Moraghan! Thank you! I’ll do better next time, I promise!” She waved as she headed toward the door.
“Not too much! Don’t neglect your schoolwork!” Carene waved back and closed the door behind Brittany. Then she sighed. Walked back to the music room, crossed the hall, and opened Leila’s door. As she’d expected, Leila was smoldering like a volcano just before eruption. At Carene’s entrance, Leila turned guiltily.
“I can’t help it that she got upset,” she muttered. “It was an easy entrance. And it was the second time she muffed it. You know she’ll never get into any orchestra if she’s not any better than that.”
Carene closed the door behind her. Her clipped, abrupt words held none of the kindly comfort she had given Brittany. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t put you over my knee and paddle the daylights out of you.”
(c) Anastasia Vitsky and Lazy Day Publishing, 2013