Mayra Calvani
Genre: YA Paranormal Fantasy
Publisher: Twilight Times Books
Release Date: May 15th,
2014
ISBN: 978-1-60619-028-9
ASIN: not available yet
Pages: 184
Word Count: 50,000
Cover Artist: Renu Sharma
Book Description:
Niccolò Paganini (1782-1840), one
of the greatest violinists who ever lived and rumored to have made a pact with
the devil, has somehow transferred unique powers to another…
When violinists around the world
mysteriously vanish, 16-year-old Emma Braun takes notice. But when her beloved violin teacher
disappears… Emma takes charge. With Sherlock Holmes fanatic, not to mention
gorgeous Corey Fletcher, Emma discovers a parallel world ruled by an ex-violinist
turned evil sorceress who wants to rule the music world on her own terms.
But why are only men violinists
captured and not women? What is the connection between Emma's family, the
sorceress, and the infamous Niccolò Paganini?
Emma must unravel the mystery in
order to save her teacher from the fatal destiny that awaits him. And undo the curse that torments her
family—before evil wins and she becomes the next luthier's apprentice…
Excerpt
The Luthier’s Apprentice Chapter One
Brussels, Belgium
Present day
Sixteen-year old
Emma Braun got off the school bus and strode down Stockel Square toward her
home. She glanced up at the October sky and wrapped her wool scarf tighter
around her neck. Heavy dark clouds threatened a downpour.
As she passed a
newspaper stand, the headlines on The Brussels Gazette caught her attention:
ANOTHER VIOLINIST
VANISHES!
Emma stopped. For a
moment she could only stare. She dug into her jacket pocket for coins and
bought a copy.
The newspaper
article left her stunned. Not only because three well-known violinists had gone
missing in the last several months, but because the latest one was her teacher,
Monsieur Dupriez.
The news story
seemed so hard to believe, she stopped at the next street corner to read it one
more time.
It was the last
week of October, and the shops and homes were lightly adorned with Halloween
decorations. Pumpkins and Jack-o-lanterns sat on doorsteps. Witches,
broomsticks, and black cats hunkered down in windows and shops. Just last
evening, Emma had sauntered along this street with her best friend Annika,
unconcerned and looking forward to Halloween. Now, everything had turned dark
and ominous.
The strange
incidents she had experienced for the past two weeks added to her stress.
At first she had
thought they were a string of coincidences, but not anymore. While scowling at
obnoxious Billie Lynam during school recess, for instance, she wished he would
fall flat on his face… and half a minute later, her wish was granted. On
various occasions she guessed people’s thoughts before they spoke. And
yesterday, on her way home from school, she accurately guessed the meal her mom
had left on the table for her.
Was she some kind
of a psychic? If so, why now? People didn’t develop powers like these
overnight. Did they?
She hadn’t told her
mom about her new abilities yet; only Annika knew. Maybe she would tell her mom
today, after she shared the news about Monsieur Dupriez.
As Emma approached
her home, she quickened her step. By the time she reached the door she was
almost running. She raced into the hallway and dropped her book bag on the
floor.
“Mom!” she called,
looking in the kitchen, then in the living room. The house was silent. “Mom!”
she called again, racing up the stairs to the bedrooms. Entering her mother’s
room, Emma found her sitting very still on the bed with a crumpled letter in
her hand.
When her mom saw
her, she hastily put the crumpled piece of paper into her pocket and rose from
the bed. Her arched brows were furrowed with anxiety.
Emma momentarily
forgot the newspaper article. “Are you okay, Mom?”
“I’ve just received
some unsettling news,” her mom said. “I must make a trip to see your Aunt Lili.
She’s ill. She…I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”
Aunt Lili? Emma
frowned. More surprises. Emma had never met her mom’s eccentric only sister,
who lived alone in the Hungarian mountains secluded in an old chateau
surrounded by dark woods—or so her mom said. Though again, her mom hardly ever
mentioned her.
“What’s wrong with
Aunt Lili?” Emma asked. “Can’t I come with you?” She had always been intrigued
by her mysterious aunt.
“No. You’ll stay
with Grandpa. You enjoy working with him, don’t you?” Her brown eyes met Emma’s
before turning away, and though her voice sounded matter-of-fact, Emma detected
a trace of ambivalence.
Emma sighed. She
loved violin making with a passion, but Grandpa was a bitter taskmaster. No
matter how much she tried to please him, she never could. Maybe that’s why her
mom often seemed so reluctant about her apprenticeship.
“I’d rather go with
you,” Emma said. “Plus, next week is holiday.” All Saints holiday week—or
Toussaint, as they called it here—almost always coincided with Halloween.
“That’s out of the
question. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. Besides, you can’t miss your
violin lessons, not with the Christmas competition at the academy coming up
soon.”
“I’m not so sure
about that,” Emma said gravely, extending the newspaper.
Her mom took it.
“What’s this?”
“This is why I came
running up the stairs.”
Her mom read the
headlines. She gasped and looked at Emma. When she finished reading, she sat on
the edge of the mattress and stared into space. “Oh, my God...” she whispered.
Emma sat next to
her mom. “It says Monsieur Dupriez disappeared in his study. The doors and
windows were locked from the inside. The police don’t have any explanation. How
can this happen? It’s not logical. It’s not humanly possible.”
“No, not humanly
possible…”
“Just like the
other three—that German violinist, the French one, the American. Nobody has
explained their disappearances. Who would want to kidnap violinists?” When her
mom didn’t answer, she began to gnaw at her fingernail.
As if by reflex,
her mom pulled Emma’s hand away from her mouth.
“Sorry,” Emma
mumbled. “I’m just worried about him.”
“Poor Madame
Dupriez. We must visit her. She must be in quite a state.”
“Can you call her
now?”
Her mom sighed. “I
will. In a moment.” She looked at Emma, her features softening. Gently, she
smoothed Emma’s glossy chestnut locks and side fringe away from her face.
“Don’t worry, everything will be fine. You mustn’t be afraid.”
“Afraid? Why would
I be afraid?”
“I mean, about
Monsieur Dupriez.” Her mom appeared flustered.
“I’m not afraid.
I’m worried, and angry. I want to find out what happened to him. Without him, I
don’t even want to take part in the competition.”
Monsieur Dupriez
had been Emma’s teacher since she was four years old. But more than teacher, he
was her mentor.
“You will do your best at the competition—with
or without Monsieur Dupriez. Do you hear me?” her mom said. Then her voice
softened. “Listen, darling, I know how close you are to Monsieur Dupriez, but
you cannot allow his disappearance to destroy your chances at the competition.
I’m not asking you to win, only to do your best. You have great talent, a gift,
and your duty is to use it to the best of your ability. Never forget this.
Monsieur Dupriez would never want you to forget this.”
“You still haven’t
told me what’s wrong with Aunt Lili,” Emma said, changing the conversation.
“Why must you go to her now, after all these years?”
Looking into Emma’s
face, her mom hesitated, as if unable to decide what—or how much—to say. “You
know she’s always been ill, a recluse. She…” She rose from the bed and walked
to the window, then opened the curtain. It had started raining, the drops
pelted against the glass. “This time it’s serious. She may die.”
Emma couldn’t help
feeling a twinge of suspicion. She hated distrusting her mom, whom she loved
more than anything in the world, but this time her mom was lying. Emma trusted
that feeling, another of her freaky new abilities. She felt an overwhelming
urge to chew her fingernails, but tried to control herself. For her mom, a
violinist’s hands were a work of art.
“But what’s wrong
with her? What kind of disease does she have?” Emma insisted.
“Her heart is very
weak.” Her mom turned away from the window to face Emma. Her voice was laced
with impatience.
And again Emma
thought: She’s lying.
“Please don’t worry
about it,” her mom went on in a lighter tone. “I’ll try to come back soon.”
“How soon?”
“As soon as I can
manage.”
“Grandpa is always
in such a nasty mood,” Emma complained.
“Well, that isn’t
news, is it?” Her mom stared down at the floor, as if absorbed by her own
thoughts. After a pause, she added, “He’s old and his back always hurts. You
know that.”
“I love Grandpa,
but he’s so freaking…” She tried to come up with the right word. Bizarre. Instead she said, “Mysterious. You know, with
his violins.”
Her mom looked at
Emma and frowned, as if waiting for her to say more.
“You know what I mean,
Mom. With that room at the top of the stairs. The one that’s always locked.”
Her mom’s features
hardened. “He keeps his most valuable pieces in there. You must never disobey
him. He would be very disappointed.”
“Who said I would
go in there?” Emma asked, trying to sound innocent. If there was something she
intended to do, it was going inside that room. Once she’d almost been
successful. For some crazy reason, Grandpa had forgotten to lock it one day.
But the instant she touched the doorknob, he had called her from the bottom of
the stairs, his wrinkled features twisted into a mask that had left her frozen.
He had appeared enraged and afraid at the same time.
“When are you
leaving?” Emma asked, shaking off the past to focus on the present issue.
“As soon as
possible. Tomorrow, probably. I’ll get the plane tickets today.”
“Mom...”
“Emma, please. If
you’re going to complain or say anything negative, I don’t want to hear it.”
Fine. Obviously,
this wasn’t the best time to bring up her new psychic powers. She headed to the
door.
“Where are you
going?” her mom asked.
“To my room.”
“I’ll call Madame
Dupriez to see if we may visit her after dinner. In the meantime, I want you to
pack. You’re moving to Grandpa’s tomorrow.”
In her room, Emma
dragged her suitcase from the top shelf in the closet and set it on the floor.
“Hi, Sweetie,” she
said to Blackie, her rabbit. “Want to get some exercise?” She opened the cage
door so Blackie could hop out and roam about her room. Blackie was housebroken,
and smart as a cat—or close to it.
She stared at the
elegant taffeta gown hanging from her wardrobe door, a strapless design a la
Anne Sophie Mutter she’d already bought for the upcoming violin competition.
She sighed.
Slumped on the bed,
Emma wondered for the umpteenth time about Monsieur Dupriez’s strange
disappearance.
Where could he be?
Author Bio:
Award-winning author Mayra
Calvani has penned over ten books for children and adults in genres ranging
from picture books to nonfiction to paranormal fantasy novels. She’s had over
300 articles, short stories, interviews and reviews published in magazines such
as The Writer, Writer’s Journal and Bloomsbury Review, among others. A native
of San Juan, Puerto Rico, she now resides in Brussels, Belgium.
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