Every
once in awhile, a book comes along that I, as the author, feel
differently about. Some make me question my chosen vocation, but a
few touch my heart in a special way.
So
Much It Hurts is one of the latter. I love this book. When I
started it November 1, 2016, the words just flowed. I felt the
movement of it, the emotions and the words gripped me and ran. I hung
on, typing as fast as I could, feeling inadequate to the task of
telling the story. When I sat down to read it through in its
entirety, I knew I hadn't let myself, or the characters down. It was
that good.
Beta
readers have told me that the characters hopped off the page,
becoming very real. I was delighted to hear that, because the entire
time, the voices filled my head, demanding to be heard.
Tomorrow,
So Much It Hurts makes its debut. I'm delighted that it's
being published exactly a year from its beginning. The book is on
sale right now, and will continue for a week after publication, so
get your copy for .99 cents NOW! The price won't last, but the book
will. I hope it will touch your lives as much as it did mine.
Below,
for your reading enjoyment, is an excerpt from So Much It Hurts
by Dellani Oakes.
They
heard the music before they saw anyone. The air was filled with
guitar,
piano,
trumpet…
“Is
that a harpsichord?”
“It
is! And there’s a harp, double bass, a variety of woodwind and
other
instruments.
Only the finest quality. We’re allowed to use them—carefully.”
“Aren’t
they worried someone will steal them?”
“No
one will steal them. They appreciate the opportunity too much.”
The
choice of music was a little surprising, given the instruments
playing, but Pia
couldn’t
ignore the lure of Harlem Nocturne.
A longtime favorite, it was one of the
first
pieces she’d learned on her own. Though she loved all kinds of
music, there was
a
big pull for her in jazz and blues. They walked quietly in and she
marveled at the
sight.
Seven musicians sat around playing various antique instruments,
including a
gorgeous
saxophone that glittered like silver, not brass. The sound was
mellower,
making
her gasp and clasp her hands together. Listening in awe, she could
hardly
breathe
until they were finished. When the song ended, she clapped and
cheered.
Yancy
whistled and clapped along with her.
“Fabulous!
I love the slower tempo. And the saxophone, so sexy! The piano part
on
the harpsichord, very cool!”
“You’ve
got to be a musician,” the girl at the harpsichord said with a
grin.
“This
is Pia, new to the Ambassador Suite. Pia, meet Charles.”
The
guy on the double bass waved.
“Elaine
on harpsichord. Bama on sax; Amita you know, on guitar. Trumpet and
trombone,
the Capone Twins. And finally, Dahlia on drums.”
“What
do you play?” Elaine made room for her on the bench.
“Pretty
much everything. Fully trained on woodwinds, piano, guitar, and
drums.
I’m
self-taught on brass. I need to tighten my embrasure.”
“Hard
to switch up between woodwind and brass,” one of the Capones said.
“Yes,
so I’m told. I play at it, I didn’t say I did it well.”
“You
sing?” Bama asked.
“Well,
yeah.”
“Prove
it. Soprano or alto?”
“I’ve
got a good range. Try me.”
“Hop
in when you know it.” He picked up a guitar and started playing.
The others
joined
in.
Pia
grinned. “Give me something hard, why don’t ya?” She waited for
the right
moment
and started to sing I’d Rather Go Blind.
The
other musicians joined in and sang harmony with her on the choruses.
Pia
wailed
and sailed all over the place, showing off her range. Impressed looks
were
exchanged,
but she didn’t see them. Instead, she had her eyes closed as she
sang.
By
the end of it, the women were in tears and even the men looked a
little misty. No
one
moved for a full minute as the song finished. Pia looked around,
confused.
“Nailed
it,” Bama said. “Dayam, baby. You’ve got some pipes!”
Everyone
joined in to compliment her. She hadn’t noticed, but many of the
other
residents,
attracted by the song, had gathered for the impromptu concert. After
Bama
spoke, the spell was broken and they applauded loudly.
“Thank
you.” Pia blushed, embarrassed by their praise.
“Can’t
leave us there!” Elaine said, booting Bama from the piano. She
whispered
to
him and he grinned. “See if you know this one.”
“We’re
playing Name That Tune,
huh? I think it’s only fair to warn you, I’ve never
been
stumped. Has to be something known, can’t be something you wrote
yourself.”
“Of
course! That’d be cheating,” Amita said.
Elaine
started playing the piano, with the guitar on heavy reverb joining
her. Pia
smiled,
standing.
“Oh,
I got this.” Waiting patiently for her cue, she stood with her hand
on the side
of
the piano like a torch singer. The haunting notes of Bang
Bang filled the air, and
the
audience clapped softly.
Wondering
where Pia and Yancy were, Flynn came back downstairs and walked
in
as she got to the final chorus. When she saw him, Pia pointed at him,
singing
“Bang
Bang.” He staggered, catching himself before he fell. More loud
applause
echoed
in the enormous room.
Stepping
forward, clapping, Flynn stood in front of her. “I have a request.”
“Okay,
name it. If we know it, we’ll play it,” Elaine said, her fingers
rippling over
the
keys.
“Except
for Pia.” He winked at her.
“Hah!
Rude!” She smacked his arm with the back of her hand.
Flynn
whispered to the musicians and they nodded.
Elaine
started to play the piano. “A little throwback to before we were
born… By
request.”
Bama
had picked up a violin and Charles went back to the bass. Pia smiled,
though
she was fighting tears. How had he picked the one song that could
make her
melt
into a puddle? Vocalizing as she waited for her cue, she closed her
eyes again.
To
Flynn’s ears, Misty Blue by
Dorothy Moore had never sounded so good. The
song
held special meaning for him, that only Yancy knew. The second he had
heard
Pia
sing, he knew he had to listen to her do that song. He hadn’t
counted on how it
would
affect him. Tears welled in his eyes and he ducked his head so no one
would
see.
He felt Yancy walk over, nudging him with his elbow. Hands shoved in
his
pockets,
he started to hum and by the final chorus, he was harmonizing with
Pia.
When
the song was over, he picked her up, spinning her around. Lost in a
moment
of
their own, they didn’t even notice the applause.
“Where
were you keeping that voice, Chancellor?”
“Under
my hat, ma’am.”
“You’re
not wearing a hat.”
“Nope.
That was beautiful. Thank you.”
“You’re
so welcome.”
©
2017 Dellani Oakes
