A Beautiful Melody

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Authors: Lilliana Anderson

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A Beautiful Melody

a Beautiful Series Novel

Book 3

by Lilliana Anderson

 

Kindle
Edition

Copyright 2013 Lilliana Anderson

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

 

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Copyright 2013, Lilliana Anderson
All rights reserved

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means without the prior written permission of the author of this book.

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead is purely coincidental. Any actual places, products or events mentioned are used in a purely fictitious manner.  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various places/products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission and is by no way sponsored by the trademark owners.

Dedication

For Lochlan, my constant companion and incredibly cute distraction
.

 
 

“Just because you want me, doesn’t mean you love me. Just because you feel you need me, doesn’t mean you deserve me.”

~ Unknown

Foreward

The Beautiful Series. It was supposed to be a single book – A Beautiful Struggle.
But, it has become so much bigger and broader than it was ever meant to be. I am constantly amazed and humbled by the reaction you all have to my characters and how involved with their lives you become.

When readers started to ask for Naomi’s story, I was a little surprised. She was a fairly minor character, and while I enjoyed her fun loving spirit, I didn’
t see her as the next in line. In fact, I saw A Beautiful Forever as the absolute end.

However, once that little seed was planted in my mind, she grew
into a full character – one that I now really love. Her struggle between Marcus and Theo has been torturing me for a while as I myself have struggled to work out which brother, if any, she was most suited to.

If you haven’t already heard, the series is going to continue. The next book will be called A Beautiful Rock.
It seems the series will now be perpetual, although each book will have a story of its own. I really am loving this world, along with the ups and downs it brings me as I watch my characters live their lives in my imagination.

I’ll write it until you’ve all had enough – because now that I’m there, visiting my characters regularly – I never want to leave. I think you’re going to have to force me away!

Lilliana xoxox

Acknowledgements

 

First and foremost I must thank
my beta and proof readers for working so hard for me on this novel. Marion of Making Manuscripts (www.makingmanuscripts.com), Mary, Anna, Betchy, Billie, Celsey, Lindsey, Doraine, Tammie, Kassandra, and Megan. Your input has made this book so much better than if I had have done it all alone. Thank you! Thank you! 

Thank you to my
editor, Maria Johnson, for trawling through my manuscript for errors and always working me into her schedule. A big thank you to my husband for his unending support, his plot help, and his encouragement.

Thank you to my street team and to everyone who has agreed to review for me – my heart fills up every time I see your enthusiasm for my work! And I know I can always count on Rachel, Isabel and April, who have been reviewing for me since I broke their hearts with A Beautiful Struggle.

A big thank you also goes out to everyone who has been watching me on my social networks and talking to me/ putting up with my randomness while I write. The small interactions we have, really helps to break up my day and stave away the loneliness that can creep in while immersed in your writing all the time. 

I also want to thank
my kids for cuddling up next to me while I type and waiting patiently until I’ve finished my thought – you’re all beautiful!

And of course – thank you to all of my readers. Without you, I would be writing to the crickets
.

Mwah! xoxox

Pro
logue

 

Five years ago…

Naomi

“Where did you get that?” I ask Erica as she passes a bottle of Bacardi Rum to Stephanie.

“I swiped it from my Dad,” explains A
my as she takes it off Steph, takes a swig and hands it to me.

I tip the bottle back and almost choke as the clear liquid burns my throat and makes my eyes water.

“Holy shit,” I splutter. “That stuff is horrible.”

“Well it’s just a little liquid courage. We need to go in there and act like we belong,” Erica explains
.

“Yeah, don’t you want to see Marcus playing in his band?” teases Stephanie, who knows I’ve had a crush on him since the first moment I saw him in high school. He was the year above us, and I followed him around like a lost puppy.

I wouldn’t say we were friends. I’d just say that he tolerated me. He used to call me his favourite groupie. Although, I think he liked the fact that while he played his guitar and sang, I would sometimes join in with my violin. He wouldn’t let anyone else do that – just me. So it made me feel a little special.

But I haven’t seen him since he finished year twel
ve and started at university. We’re crashing a Sydney university party tonight, having heard about it via Erica’s older cousin. It’ll be the last time I get to see Marcus before I go to Canberra for the Australian National University’s School of Music. Not that it will matter. I doubt he’ll even notice me.

“Of course I want to see him. But I don’t really know if he’ll want me there. I haven’t spoken to him in over a year,” I reply.

“You have a vagina right?” asks Amy, in her usual blunt and deadpan way. “Of course he’ll want you there. Just don’t expect him to be talking to you tomorrow.” She grabs the bottle back and throws her head back, chugging down the last of it.

The rest of us exchange wide eyed expressions as she tells us all to follow her. It’s as if she’s a general leading the charge, so we follow along
. Nervous about getting caught out, but excited about crashing a party.

Once we get in, there are so many people that we needn’t have worried, no one would have noticed us.

“There he is,” Stephanie whispers in my ear, nudging me with her elbow.

I look across the courtyard, and see Marcus setting up with the band
on a makeshift stage. My heart does great big thumps against my ribcage as I watch him, his long toned arms showing corded forearms underneath his rolled up sleeves.

His head tilts forward as he focuses on the guitar in his hands. That’s what I’ve always loved about him – how important he finds his music. There’s a whole room of people around him,
drinking and having a great time. There’s even people trying to get his attention, but he’s so focused on getting ready that he pays them no mind at all.

“Amazing,” I say under my breath, feeling completely in awe.

“What is?” Stephanie asks, just as this guy comes to stand in front of us with a tub full of various vodka mixes.

“Lucky dip?” he asks
, offering us a drink.

“Sure,” we both say together, looking in the tub for a flavour we might like.

“No, no. You have to close your eyes and pick. It’s not fair if you look.”

“Oh ok,” I laugh, closing my eyes and reaching in. I pull out this red cranberry mix and Stephanie manages to
get passionfruit, which is my favourite.

The guy moves off, offering the drinks to others as he goes along.

“You wanna swap?” she asks me, holding out the unopened bottle.

I smile
gratefully, and switch drinks with her, loving that she knows me so well. I twist off the cap and take a mouthful, grimacing a little. “It’s flat,” I complain.

“You want to switch back? Mine’s fine,” she asks.

“No, don’t worry about it. I’ll just drink it,” I shrug, throwing the bottle back and taking a long thirsty chug. Even though we’re outside, it’s January, and in typical Sydney summer fashion, it’s really humid with only a light breeze blowing to cool us all down.

“Naomi?” I hear from behind me.
Turning around, I find myself face to face with an old friend.

“Aramis!” I squeal, jumping up to wrap my arms around his neck and hug him tightly. “Oh my go
odness, I’ve missed you so much. Still rocking the Goth look I can see,” I grin, holding onto his arm as I speak to him.

Aramis is another ex-Australian Performing Arts Grammar School student. He was a couple of years above me, but we played together a few times in school productions
, and we used to have a great time, sneaking into the music auditorium so he could play on the old piano in there. He loved the sound of it, claiming that it was far superior to the electric keyboards they had in the music rooms.

I’m a bit of a prodigy, and pick up musical instrument
s really quickly, easily understanding how they work and how the right notes can be produced. It’s like I speak music – like it’s a natural language for me. Piano and guitar, were really easy for me, but the violin took a bit more practise to master, which is why I’m such a big fan of it.

But with Aramis, I used to sit with h
im and play the piano as well while we worked through different pieces of music. It was always a lot of fun, and I loved spending time with him. Truthfully, he was my secret crush. You know that one guy you really like, but you’re afraid to tell your friends because they’ll think you’re crazy? Yeah. That’s Aramis.

To the rest of the school, he was considered a bit of a freak with his dyed
black hair and pale made up face. But I’ve always thought him beautiful. I always enjoyed how quiet and reserved he was, despite his obvious talents. He was such a contrast to Marcus who was always so boisterous and sure of himself.

“How have you been?” he asks, his dark eyes concentrated only on me
, making me feel like the only girl in the world.

“Busy with school. I got into ANU,” I tell him smiling
, my eyes raking over him from head to toe, drinking him in.

“I heard,” he nods. “It’s well deserved.
Congratulations,” he smiles, producing perfect white teeth, and a slight crinkle around his eyes.

“What are you doing here tonight? Are you at the Conservatorium of Music?” I ask.

“No. I didn’t apply for uni. I travelled for a year and then came back home. I’m playing with the band tonight. On keyboards,” he states, nodding toward the stage. “I’d better go. Maybe we can hang after the show? Come and find me.”

“I’d love that,” I call after him, pleased when he takes a moment to turn back and smile at me.

“Oh wow. Aramis is looking mighty fine from this angle,” Stephanie points out as we watch him walk away.

“Mmmhmm,” I agree, tilting my head as if it will give me a better angle.

“What about Marcus?” Stephanie murmurs next to my ear. “I thought you were here for him.”

“Who?” I ask, looking at her but not hearing what she’s saying
. I’m still too busy watching Aramis as he climbs up on the stage.

Seeing him again has reminded me how much I loved spending time with him. How much I liked him.
While I do like Marcus, I know that he’s a player. Nothing will ever come of spending the night with Marcus. But with Aramis… well, he’s different.

I
tip my drink back, draining its contents before look around for something to put my empty bottle in. It’s at that moment that the band starts up, playing a cover of Muse’s
Uprising.
Amy and Erica come rushing over to us, holding more vodka mixes above their heads as they howl out their excitement and sway to the music.

“Just look at him up there,”
Amy groans, as she hands me a fresh bottle. “He’s like a god on stage.”

“Yeah he is,” I agree,
but I’m not looking at the same band member she is. It’s like he’s faded into the ether.

I twist the cap off
the new vodka mix and gulp a mouthful of its contents, feeling glad that this time the liquid is fizzy – even though it’s an orange flavoured one.

We do as girls do at parties and sta
rt to dance to the music. That’s the last thing I remember until I wake up the next morning and become a walking cliché.

Thank god I’m moving to Canberra.

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