A Song Unheard Excerpt and Author Spotlight

Hello Fellow Bloggers,

My favorite month is officially here and lots of things happening in the coming weeks. What better way to kick off the month of June is being apart of my first book blog tour!!! This is an amazing opportunity for me to not only showcase upcoming releases but interact with fellow book lovers. I am proud to participate in the The Number of Love blog tour that’s hosted by Just Reads Publicity Tours where I will not only review The Number of Love but get to share an excerpt from A Song Unheard. Both novels are written by Roseanna M. White  and highly recommend adding this to your TBR list. 

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The Number of Love Blog Tour (Photo Courtesy of Just Reads Publicity Tours)

 

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The Number of Love Book Cover (Photo Courtesy of Just Reads Publicity Tours)
Series: Codebreakers #1
Author: Roseanna M. White
Publisher: Bethany House
Release Date: June 4, 2019
Genre: Historical Fiction/Romance/Intrigue

 

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A Song Unheard Book Cover (Photo Courtesy of Just Reads Publicity Tours)
Series: Shadows Over England #2
Author: Roseanna M. White
Publisher: Bethany House
Release Date: January 2, 2018
Genre: Historical Fiction/Romance/Intrigue

 

A Song Unheard Synopsis 

Willa Forsythe is both a violin prodigy and top-notch thief, which make her the perfect choice for a crucial task at the outset of World War I—to steal a cypher from a famous violinist currently in Wales.

Lukas De Wilde has enjoyed the life of fame he’s won—until now, when being recognized nearly gets him killed. Everyone wants the key to his father’s work as a cryptologist. And Lukas fears that his mother and sister, who have vanished in the wake of the German invasion of Belgium, will pay the price. The only light he finds is in meeting the intriguing Willa Forsythe.

But danger presses in from every side, and Willa knows what Lukas doesn’t—that she must betray him and find that cypher, or her own family will pay the price as surely as his has.

 

Excerpt from A Song Unheard 

With a friendly pat of thanks to the cold bricks for hosting her yet again, she slipped away from the symphony’s practice chamber, out of the little alcove that the city had neglected, over the crumbling half-wall, and down the night-dark alley. If she were Rosemary, the shadows would make her shiver. If she were Elinor, the mist would make her reach to check the hair under her hat. If she were Retta, she’d pause there where alley met street to admire the slant of the sun as it made one final hurrah through the mist and fog, turning them to gold in one second and then vanishing again in the next.

But Willa was none of her sisters. For a moment, she almost caught a melody that danced its way through the sunburst. Almost. It was there one moment but then it slipped away, too fleet of foot for her ever to follow. Her fingers itched for her bow. That elusive wisp of song wouldn’t come when she had her violin in hand. But she could play that line the strings had been singing in the practice chamber. She wished she had heard the ending, but that bit between sections would do for one. After she met with Mr. V, she’d head back to her flat in Poplar and fetch her violin before going to the pub. They may not be a symphony-going crowd at Pauly’s, but they always welcomed her to the little stub of a stage with hoots and applause. It was enough. Even if it was never enough.

Margot had nearly turned the page that first day. But then . . . something had stopped her. A pattern had caught her eye. Intuition—that was where it started. But intuition, as Papa had said, was only the first step. The second, always, was mathematics. It wasn’t enough to know that, not when it came to cryptography. One had to know how.

She had spent two full days working it out, to the exclusion of all else. Maman had begun to fret and fuss at her and to chide Papa for his game. Lukas had tried to tell her she was chasing a shadow, that nothing was even there. But Papa had said nothing. So she had kept working. Now she could see it so clearly. When she looked at the print covering the page, the encoded letters leapt off and flipped in her mind’s eye to their counterparts, their hidden meanings. She could read the realmessage trapped within the false one. When you can read this, you are ready to help me.

She was an enigma. Scarcely looking his way during dinner, playing the part of smiling guest wherever the conversation went. But there was more to her, of that he had no doubt. The way she’d been studying that building yesterday. The way she studied the violin now, from her stance behind the sisters’ sofa. She didn’t reach for it. Her posture said she was perfectly at ease nearly bored even. But her eyes were hungry. His father and his sister could spend days studying a mathematical enigma Lukas had never shared that particular love of theirs. But a puzzle of a woman he could study for an eternity. He drew his bow from its bed and held it out to her. “Here you are, Miss Forsythe. Whenever you are ready.” A smile danced over her lips, vanishing again even as she reached for the bow. “Some people don’t need to be taughtin order to learn.”

“Very true.” Was that not what Père had always said about Margot? That it wasn’t like teaching her at all—it was like reminding her of something she already knew but for which she hadn’t quite had the words. He had always thought music similar. That his favorite compositions were capturing something he’d always known existed and putting it to paper. Giving voice, giving words to those soaring notes of joy, the pulsing beats of temper or pain. But it had taken teaching for him to learn how to bring those notes to life on an instrument. For everyone he knew, it was the same. Oh, he had met musicians who played by ear, to be sure. But not like this. “So you began at age twelve. Teaching yourself. And now you can re-create the most challenging pieces after hearing them . . . how many times?”

She shifted, glanced at the incredulous Jules again, back to him. Shrugged. “It depends on the piece. Once, sometimes. Twice or thrice always suffices.”

Once. Or twice. Jules fell to a seat on a chair. “Incroyable,” he muttered again. Lukas just held that gaze she’d shifted back to him. It was incredible. Unbelievable. “You are a . . . a prodigy.” He’d never met one, not really. Children with talent, certainly. But this talented? Never. Miraculous, his family would say. God-gifted. He’d not given much thought in recent years to gifts from God. And these last few weeks, he wouldn’t have bet God was still even imparting gifts, given the state of the world. But what else could one call this? Her?

Willa heard the footsteps racing toward her a second after she felt that invisible finger-brush over the nape of her neck. Someone was following her and this time they weren’t being subtle about it. She had a split second to decide how to handle it. Which was all she needed. A quick glance around to gauge the crowds or lack of them, where on the street she was, what was nearby.

She was only steps from where the promenade was intersected by Terrace Road, so it was a simple matter to turn onto it, her eyes open for any handy alley of which there were far too few in this city. She had to settle for the nearly empty Stryd y Gorfforaeth. A few strides, then a quick turn into the cubby that led to the hotel’s back entrance. She pivoted, her hand ready to strike. A smiling, far-too-familiar face paused just out of reach. “Pretty Willa Forsythe. You do not look happy to see me.”

Familiarity didn’t make her lower her fist. Fear did. Because this man should notbe in Wales, watching her. Watching her like this, coming from a meeting with Lukas De Wilde. Something she hadn’t properly felt in years snapped its teeth into her stomach. Panic.

Make sure to get a copy of A Song Unheard Today!!!
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About The Author 

roseanna white.jpgAuthor Roseanna M. White (Photo Courtesy of Just Reads Publicity Tours)


Roseanna M. White is a bestselling, Christy Award nominated author who has long claimed that words are the air she breathes. When not writing fiction, she’s homeschooling her two kids, editing, designing book covers, and pretending her house will clean itself. Roseanna is the author of a slew of historical novels that span several continents and thousands of years. Spies and war and mayhem always seem to find their way into her books..to offset her real life, which is blessedly ordinary.

Connect With Roseanna: Website|Facebook| Twitter| Instagram



Giveaway!!!!

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Grand Prize:
Shadows Over Englandseries, The Number of Love, and the Decrypto board game, plus “Mi Alma” necklace (Necklace is 24″ chain with a 1″ pendant that says “Mi Alma” Spanish for “My Soul”. A term of endearment used throughout the book. Handmade by Bookworm Mama)

(3) additional winners of The Number of Love.

Enter via the Rafflecopter giveaway below.

Giveaway will begin at midnight June 3, 2019 and last through 11:59 pm June 17, 2019. US only.
Winners will be notified within 2 weeks of close of the giveaway and given 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen.

Giveaway is subject to the policies found here.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

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7 thoughts on “A Song Unheard Excerpt and Author Spotlight

  1. Becky D. says:

    “A Song Unheard” is my favorite in that series…and such an incredible series. I may or may not have already read through it twice. 😉 Greatly looking forward to Margot’s story!!

    Liked by 1 person

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