When love happens...
Do you question the cost?
Today is at long last release day for Book # 11 ~ Gloria's Song!
I have watched with growing excitement as each book in this new series is released. It is such a delight to be among such talented authors!
Gloria's Song will be available through today at the pre-order price of $0.99 so I hope you will grab your copy now instead of waiting.
*~*~*~*
Gloria Palmer has always
done the proper thing expected of her as the daughter of a shipping tycoon. The
approval of her family and friends mean everything. And yet, when the perfect
suitor offers for her… she hesitates.
Colin McDougal has
little use for those living on the fancy side of the trolley tracks. He’s too
busy managing the family pub and, in his spare time, writing down the lively
tunes in his head. So, when Miss Palmer asks for his help to prepare for a
music audition, he is flummoxed. What does he know of highbrow music?
But with each
practice session, their feelings for each other grow. When it comes time for
Gloria to make a choice between what is proper and what she desires, will she
realize that if music can cross class lines—and the trolley tracks in town—perhaps
it can also harmonize two hearts.
*~*~*~*
I dedicated this book to my mother, whose name happens to be...Gloria. My mother's family hails from the Alexandria, Virginia area of the country where I have set this story. Much like the Gloria in my story, my mother is a well-versed pianist, (and also a red-head) although that is where the similarity ends.
*~*~*~*
~ Exerpt ~
“Come
with me, sir.”
Colin
whipped off his cap and followed the housekeeper down the wide, but dark
hallway. On either side of the hall, arched doorways revealed rooms as big as
the pub. To the right, a library was filled with books from ceiling to floor.
To the left was a man’s study. More books. A globe of the earth. And a case of
old rifles and swords, polished until the handles and blades gleamed. So this
was what the rich dallied with in their free time.
He
didn’t have much free time.
The
housekeeper came to a door of glass panes that allowed light to brighten that
end of the hallway. She opened it and announced him. “Mr. Colin McDougal.” Then
she stepped back so that he could pass.
As
he stepped into the room he smelled the heavy scents of flowers and rich earth,
and felt the more humid weight to the air. The solarium, the housekeeper had
said. He’d never heard of such a room. On two adjacent walls, winter sunlight
streamed through large windows that looked out onto a large side-lawn covered
with snow that stretched down to the river where a stand of pine and maple
trees stood.
Large
ferns cascaded from hanging pots in three corners of the room. More ferns sat
here and there along the walls, along with a small desk which held an inkpot,
several pens in a jar, and stacked blank paper. What a great place to write
songs! In the center, on a wicker settee, sat two women who looked like older
and younger versions of each other. Both were auburn-haired beauties.
He
bowed.
The
older woman stood. “I am Mrs. Palmer and this is my daughter, Miss Palmer.
Please have a seat.”
She indicated a wicker chair nearby. “May I offer you
refreshment, Mr. McDougal?”
“No.”
He sat down. Then he amended, “No, thank you.”
“I’m
sure you are wondering why we have asked you to come here.”
He
glanced at the younger woman. She studied him intently, even as she held
herself aloof and quiet, sitting there in her ice-blue dress. “Yes, ma’am.”
“We
enjoyed your performance at the club on Christmas Eve.”
“Glad
to hear it. I was helping out my friend.”
“Yes.
It took us a while to track you down since he was away on holiday.”
So,
the club had covered up for Tom. His friend was often on a ‘holiday.’ “Well,
you found me.
What’s this all about?”
“It’s
a bit…unusual.” For the first time, Mrs. Palmer’s poised expression faltered.
Whatever ‘it’ was, they were uncomfortable talking about it.
“Just
out with it,” he said, hoping to encourage her. He’d say the same to his own
mother, but here, he wasn’t sure what was considered appropriate. They were so stinking
rich. There were probably invisible rules he knew nothing about.
A
frown of disapproval darted across the older woman’s face, confirming his
thoughts.
“All
right then. My husband—”
“Mother.
Allow me,” the younger Miss Palmer said quickly. “The way you played the piano
at the club on Christmas Eve caught my father’s attention. I’m sure you
remember that he spoke with you from the carriage.”
He
remembered all right. But in his mind, she
had been the one more interested in his playing.
“Yeah,” he answered carefully.
“Father
thought it might be beneficial for me to assess your technique at the
piano—just for an hour—and possibly garner some tips to improve my playing.”
He
raised his brow. “Technique? I’m not sure…”
“I
want to understand your process at the keyboard,” she said quickly.
What
was she talking about? His process? He just sat down and played. That’s all
there was too it.
“I’ve had years of lessons. I should be able
to spot your technique without difficulty and appropriate what will work for
me.”
He
snorted softly, finding the way she spoke amusing. “You mean like a beer master
giving away his brewing secrets for nothing in return.” His cousin, Patrick,
would have a time with that one. A brewers’ recipe was his signature of the
craft.
Miss
Palmer blinked, obviously shocked at his bluntness. “I suppose that is one way
to look at it.” Then her pretty, green eyes narrowed. “I see that you find this
humorous. Let me assure you…it is not.”
So,
this princess wanted something from him. Interesting. She was being careful
with her words, as though she had to maintain control of everything going on.
“If
you ask me, it sounds foolish.”
She
stiffened. “You might learn something from me as well.”
Most
likely he would, but he would never admit it. Not to her. “I do all right on my
own.”
“So,
you are not interested?” She stood up quickly, relief smoothing out the lines
above her brows.
“Very well. Then I am sorry to have wasted your time and I’ll
show you out.”
He
rose to his feet, surprised to find that he was suddenly reluctant to leave.
Guess he hadn’t charmed her. He’d been on the defensive since he’d arrived,
when by most counts, he was a decent fellow.
“Now
wait, Gloria,” Mrs. Palmer said, standing also. “You’ve hardly given Mr.
McDougal a chance.
You know your father will expect more. You need to give the
young man that much.”
“I’m
sure he has other things to do.”
It
was like watching a game of table tennis and he wasn’t all that sure who he’d
like to see win. He wasn’t sure he had any secrets to offer, but maybe
something could come of this better than a wasted afternoon. The young Miss
Palmer, although as cool as an iceberg, was an interesting woman. “You said
before that this would be like sharing techniques. What would I get in return?”
“We
have every intention of compensating you for your time today,” Mrs. Palmer
said, and then added, “Monetarily.”
That
last brought him up short. “You are saying…you’re going to pay me?” They
probably had a grand piano. A nice one. What he wouldn’t give to hear one of
his own songs played on a really good piano. The one at the pub was in a
constant state of needing tuning no matter how much he worked with it.
“Yes.
Whatever you made at the club on Christmas Eve. How’s that?”
“For
an hour of playing the piano?” It was generous. And he could use the money. It
didn’t take him more than a second to decide. “Sure. I’ll do it.”
Miss
Palmer’s eyes widened and she turned to her mother, shutting him out. “This is
absurd! You actually expect me to go through with this, Mother? With him? It’s
embarrassing!”
“Only
as far as it will appease your father. Nothing beyond that. You’ll remember I
hoped you’d forget the entire thing and agree to the engagement.”
Colin
clenched his teeth, no longer amused. He didn’t care to be talked over as
though he was invisible. “I’ve got work to do back at the pub.” He took a step
toward the door.
Miss
Palmer glared at him.
And in that instant, he noticed a moment of defeat in her eyes. Between her mother
and him, she didn’t stand a chance. And there was something else—a
vulnerability that hadn’t been there before. It tugged at him. She was tied up
in knots about something and it went beyond an hour of ‘swapping secrets’ over
a piano.
“What
can it hurt, Miss Palmer? It could be fun.” He threw the words out, a soft
challenge. He knew the last was a bit cocky but hey, it was a chance to play on
a piano that probably didn’t have any chipped keys and stayed in tune.
*~*~*~*
©2017
by Kathryn Albright
All Rights Reserved
I hope you enjoyed this excerpt!
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