Two things stand in the way of Madison Cross realizing her dream of studying music performance and composition at a prestigious college:
1) Her parents, who don’t understand or get her, and want her to attend a community college and settle on a career that will actually support her one day; and
2) A private instructor.
No music school is going to take her seriously with only middle and high school instruction, but she has never been given the opportunity for private instructions (see #1 above). Her one shot is convincing Mrs. Dosek, a well-respected pianist who teaches for free, to take her as a student, but the woman won’t return an email, let alone talk to her.
When Madison discovers a pink box of letters hidden in her parents’ attic, she’s consumed with wanting to know more about the woman who wrote them. Through reading the heartbreaking letters, Madison comes to learn more than she ever dreamed and must learn where she came from in order to find out where she’s going.
Genre: FICTION / Romance / Contemporary35 Ratings on Amazon, 4.7 average ratings
36 Ratings on Goodreads, 4.3 average ratings
“She’s here,” I whisper to Peyton Walker, my best friend.
Peyton leans around me. “Mrs. Dosek is here?”
“Yes.” The moment I see her, my heart begins to pound as my palms break out in a sweat. I swipe them against my jet black skirt, take deep breaths and try to compose myself. Maybe this time Mrs. Dosek will hear me play. Then maybe, if I play well enough, I can become one of her students. One on a small list of exclusive students, some of which have been accepted to Juilliard.
It’s my junior year of high school, and if I don’t get accepted to Juilliard before my senior year, I might never be. Music is my passion. The piano, cello and violin, though if I had to pick only one, it would always be the piano. I want to compose and play. That’s all I want in life, but all my lessons have been limited to what’s been offered in middle and high school band and orchestra. I need more if I’m going to go any further. More meant a private teacher, something my parents can’t afford. Maybe if they hadn’t adopted six kids, they might have the money for lessons.
It’s selfish, of course. Had my parents limited the number of kids, I may not have made the cut, and then where would I be? And, I wouldn’t trade my siblings for anything in the world. Well, except my youngest brother John, who spilled grape juice on my favorite white blouse this morning. Luckily I have two others or I would have been screwed. Black and white – orchestra colors. Judges frown on color, and if nothing else, I am a rule follower. Music is too important. Winning competitions is necessary. Each win and award is another item on my application to Juilliard.
