Since the holiday season is fast approaching, I thought why not "gift" my Thanksgiving short story to my readers who are willing to write a short book review for me? If you'd like to write a review for Amazon, Goodreads or any other book review site, email and let me know so I can send you the e-format file of your choice. (cynthianna@hotmail.com )
A Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours! :)
The Gift of the Songbird
by Cynthianna
https://www.devinedestinies.com/978-1-4874-2753-5-the-gift-of-the-songbird/
Hannah has the chance to sing for the richest family in town, but is it worth disappointing Daniel, her childhood friend, who seems to expect more of her?
Hannah Cummings has big plans for her future. An invitation to sing at the mansion of the dashing Elisha Spielman on Thanksgiving Day promises to launch her music career and help her raise funds to receive further vocal training. It’s a most fortuitous invitation, and Hannah is grateful and excited to accept. However, one man seems to stand in her way.
Daniel March won’t have it. Hannah has always sung for their village’s Thanksgiving festival to support the orphanage, and this year should be no different.
Friends since long before the terrible war separated them, Hannah feels there is more to Daniel’s determination to change her mind than simply his need to get his own way.
Can a songbird help them count their blessings and come to see each other in a different light?
Excerpt from The
Gift of the Songbird
Daniel raised one dark
eyebrow. “I do want something, but it’s not a hot beverage. I
want you to say you’ll help us at the Thanksgiving feast for the
orphanage and give up this non-sense of entertaining our town’s
wealthiest citizens. They own the mine and the miners’ souls. They
don’t need to own yours, too.”
How
like Daniel March to get straight to the point! He’d displayed this
annoying habit ever since they were first introduced as children.
Hannah felt like sticking her tongue out at him but wisely thought
the better of it. She sat on the settee instead and frowned.
“You’re
like a dog with a bone, and you just won’t let it go.” She sighed
loudly for effect. “I told you that I’ve made my decision. I’m
not going back on my word.”
“But
you’re going back on your word to the orphans. You’ve entertained
them for many years, and you’ve helped Eustace and I raise a lot of
money with our Thanksgiving dance and auction. Folks come from miles
and miles around to hear you sing.”
Hannah
looked heavenward and shook her head. “Hardly. They come from the
next valley over possibly, but that doesn’t qualify as any great
hardship in this day and age of rail travel.”
Daniel harrumphed. “Lucky
for them, I didn’t blow up any train bridges in these here parts
then.”
Hannah
clenched her fists in her lap. It didn’t bode well to remind war
veterans of their time of service. Many suffered nightmares and drank
heavily to deal with their pain. Daniel was more fortunate than many,
as he had returned home soon after his injury and had been nursed
back to health by his older brother and his wife. Still, any mention
of the war brought on a dark mood she’d never witnessed in Daniel
growing up.
Hannah
cleared her throat and smoothed her skirt. “Let’s change the
subject, shall we? What are you and Eustace thinking of making for
the festivities beside that awful fruit punch?”
Daniel
raised an eyebrow. “What’s so awful about my brother’s
award-winning recipe? It’s an authentic wassail.”
“It’s authentic, all right. That’s the only thing that could be said for it.” She chuckled. “Good thing Carrie always brings a couple of her delicious cakes. No one really cares what they’re drinking as long as they have enough sweets.”
“It’s authentic, all right. That’s the only thing that could be said for it.” She chuckled. “Good thing Carrie always brings a couple of her delicious cakes. No one really cares what they’re drinking as long as they have enough sweets.”
“And
no one really cares what they’re eating if they’re with their
friends enjoying an operatic concert courtesy of our resident
entertainer.”
Hannah
would not be persuaded. “I’m not the only entertainer. There’s
Mr. Cletus and his fiddling. Miss Bucket can bang that tambourine and
warble pretty good, too. It’s time you encourage a few others to
perform. I won’t be here forever, you know?”
A
dark cloud descended over Daniel’s expression. “Are you really
thinking of leaving us so soon after your father’s passing? Can’t
wait to leave this holler behind you and live in the big city?”
The
hurt in his voice stabbed at her heart. Could Daniel’s brusqueness
hide his true feelings?
Available now from Devine Destinies Books (and soon from other fine ebook retailers).
https://www.devinedestinies.com/978-1-4874-2753-5-the-gift-of-the-songbird/
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