The Music In Me

The Music In Me

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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, Oct 2, 2010
A girl by the name of Quinn Roselle has been living at the Adoption Home of Arizona since she was a small child. She hears music in her head that speaks to her- guides her, entices her. Her wishes and wants have been whispered to only one other set of ears- her best friend, Hyden Maeve. And together, they will uncover more secrets that can only mean one thing: They have been lied to. [I'm not very good at summary's.. sorries.] The photo in the first chapter is my inspiration for this story. This guy is playing his cello on the streets, with no money in his cup but a big glorious smile is on his face- and that's true passion for 'ya. So I decided to write something about it and see where it goes. DEDICATED TO THE STRANGER IN THE PIC THAT I DON'T KNOW BUT WISH I COULD :]
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In the fall after her high school graduation, Danielle Davis has been spending her days lying alone in her shared New York City apartment. Attempting to fill the ticking time, she fills her moments painting empty canvases and ignoring her roommate as much as she possibly can without her actually noticing. But she can only go so long without seeing her, and at their once a month lunch date her roommate brings along a guest. Maren. Excerpt: She was paler than I first remember her, wearing clothes three times larger than her own frame, little effort put into her outfit compared to the first time I met her. She looked confused too for a second, and then she leaned down to pull her sandals off, making herself comfortable in someone else's home. Maren didn't seem like the kind of girl to spontaneously show up at someone's house, maybe I had misjudged her. "Beth's not here." My face remained blank while we made eye contact, she stood up, her natural height just a little taller than my own. Her gaze settled on me, her eyebrows were slightly furrowed. Head to toe, and back again her eyes flickered. She didn't answer my statement. "I didn't think you'd be here." "I live here." I deadpan, she's leaning against the door now, pulling her phone out of her pocket. "I know." *** This is my NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) project for this year! This is a raw, unfinished first draft of a story I've cooked up to keep me warm in the winter. Don't be surprised if there's incomplete sentences, memory problems, and forgotten moments. Writing a first draft is about getting the words on the paper and moving on. Editing will begin after I've finished the novel. Hmu writing buddies. ;)

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