Hi all ~ thanks for stopping by! I’m Laura and I love to engage with my readers, so find me at these sites:
A bit about me ~ While writing for many years, I’ve been a wife, mother, U. S. Army Sergeant, and dental hygienist. My publishing dreams came true with my debut romance “Keyed Up” last year, and since then I have five other reads out there with plenty more on the way. When not writing I enjoy reading plenty of romance myself, from Nora Roberts and Rebecca Zanetti to Laura Kaye and Rachel Grant. Enjoy this excerpt from “Keyed Up” and be sure to come back for more!
Penelope Dixon rushed through the doors of the concert hall, raven curls bouncing around her shoulders and in her face. Her steps faltered as she swiped them away, causing her to nearly collide with a gentleman who was crossing her path.
“Whoa, Miss, careful there,” he greeted her, his voice pleasantly calm.
“I’m so sorry, Sir.” Penelope adjusted the strap of her satchel across her body, straightened her jacket, and tried taming her hair once again.
“Running late, are you?” He chuckled.
“Unfortunately, yes,” she replied, breathless. “Not the impression I had hoped to make on my first day here.”
Penelope would be making her headline debut with the Seattle Symphony in just three short weeks, and other than Maestro Frederic LaPelle, she had yet to meet anyone else associated with Benaroya Hall or the orchestra. She had unwisely ignored the recent emails regarding the current happenings with the Symphony due to her hasty move, but promised herself that she would catch up this evening.
After years of playing in the shadow of her famous father, classical pianist Bernard Dixon, she was finally stepping out into the light. And, as much as it thrilled her, she had to be honest with herself and admit that a part of her was scared silly. Since losing her mother before her second birthday, her father had been her world. It was rare for them to be apart for more than a few days at a time. Although she had had a nanny for a period, as well as Gertie, their beloved household manager, Bernard always made sure that he had been active in Penelope’s upbringing no matter how busy his schedule seemed. His guidance and encouragement in her endeavors were backed by love; never pushing her on a course that wasn’t of her own choosing. And, years ago, when Penelope’s first love interest rocked her world to its core – and not in a good way – she sought comfort in remaining close to her father and being the
Imagine if you had made this choice long ago as you had yearned to do?
What course would your life have taken?
Now near the age of twenty-eight, Penelope was striking out on her own as her father decided to slow down his career. No longer would she have him or the multitude of other staffers from her home in San Francisco, guiding her choices and making sure her every need was met – per Bernard’s instructions of course.
Penelope hoped she had learned from that guidance, and now relished the freedom to make decisions that would be hers and hers alone.
Penelope nodded as she eyed the black beauty that was the Steinway. It gleamed as if brand new; the polish remarkable and the ivories a brilliant white. The bench beckoned, inviting her to sit on the plush cushion. She couldn’t control the grin that spread across her face as she lightly ran her finger tips along the side of the piano, its
surface smooth as glass and cool to the touch. Once at the bench, she removed her satchel then her jacket, placing them on the floor beside her. Scooting the seat out to adjust for her sitting position, she made herself comfortable. She feathered the keys, eager to disturb them, knowing that was exactly what this masterpiece was made for; to
produce incomparable sound.
Penelope was instantly in her own little world, heedless of the others in the room. Her full concentration was on the connection she was going to make with this instrument. She ran a few scales, testing the resistance of the keys and strings along with the foot pedals. Once satisfied with the feel, she started to play Rachmaninov Piano Concerto No. 2. It began with tentative strikes to the keys, building in volume and speed. Before she knew it, many of the members had joined in, adding their exquisite sound. They were completely in sync, the absence of the conductor making no difference.
In a matter of moments, Penelope became lost in the music, unaware of the audience that had gathered in the darkened rows in the back.