Over 10 years in the making, having started its long life as 1,000 pages, Sinners' Opera was released last Friday by Double Dragon Publishing.  I've been happy dancing all weekend!  In the next week, it will be released in a trade paperback.  A preview of the novel is available at the publisher's web site, and the book is also available on Amazon.  The talented Elise Trissel designed the dynamic cover.

Sinners' Opera stars my favorite hero, Morgan D'Arcy. Let me describe Morgan.  He is tall with long blond hair, sky blue eyes and heartbreakingly handsome.  He is sophisticated, a man-of-the world. In the newbie day of writing, I followed him to every concert, every party and around his house!  That's why I had to cut a LOT from the final product.  It's been a long road to publication, but finally, here is a blurb and an excerpt.

Blurb:

Morgan D’Arcy is a classical pianist, an English lord and a vampire.  He has everything except what he desires most—Isabeau.  When she was a child, he appeared to her as the Angel Gabriel, influencing her life and career choice, preparing her to become Lady D’Arcy.  Many forces oppose Morgan’s daring plan—not the least of which is Vampyre law.  A vampire must not sire a child on a mortal.

Isabeau Gervase is a brilliant geneticist engaged to a prominent attorney. Though she no longer believes in angels, she sees a ticket to a Nobel Prize in the genetic puzzle presented by her long-absent childhood friend. She intends to unravel Gabriel’s secrets, using the DNA contained in a lock of his hair and identify the non-human species she named the Angel Genome.

Morgan is ready to come back into Isabeau’s life, but this time as a man—and a vampire—not an angel.  Will he outsmart his enemies, protect his beloved and escape death himself?  For the first time in eternity, the clock is ticking.

 

Excerpt:  From Chapter 24 - Dead Ringer

 

The hair at my nape rose.  A chill awareness possessed me.  An ecstatic cry upstairs snapped me to attention.  Only a vampire would have heard the faint stain of laughter.  I mounted the elegant staircase and whisked to the first floor landing.  No sound, but the Darkling, as my Irish nurse had called the unnerving sensation, stood every hair on end.

I plunged into the darkness, my footsteps silent.  The night was still, ominous.  Down the hall, I followed my sixth sense, halting at the door to one of several unused bedrooms.  I flung the door open.  Like ghosts, furniture shrouded in sheets crouched by bare walls.  The scent of blood and sex overpowered me.  One enticed.  The other sickened.

Moonlight washed through the tall windows.  Blood and pearly vampire sperm gleamed on the polished oak floor.  Another of my kind had violated my house.  Outrage streaked through my veins.  The rogue would pay.  My left hand fisted, my right gripping the bottle.  Suckling sounds and the orgasmic sigh of a mortal rising to the vampire’s kiss drifted from downstairs.  Expending energy I could ill afford, I teleported to the foyer.  Light leached through the etched glass door, shimmering on a rivulet of blood.

The rogue vampire had disappeared.  I inched toward the woman’s corpse.

A tangle of blonde streaked hair framed a beautiful face—a beloved face.  The ghastly scene seared my eyes.  My heart turned to ice, my blood freezing in my veins.  Horror clawed up my throat on a wretched cry.  Pain lanced my temples, ripped through my guts.  The bottle I’d forgotten crashed to the floor and shattered, blood seeping beneath my feet.

She’d died in orgasm, arms flung above her head.  Vampire sperm smeared her spread legs and clung to the curls on her mons.  A pitiful whine unwound from my throat.  I clamped a hand to my mouth and gagged.  Hating the sight, but unable to look away, I staggered to Isabeau, praying that a breath of life remained.  My knees buckled, and I fell.  The floor was cold.  Her lips would be cold.

“Isabeau,” I whimpered.  “Merciless God, what have I done?”

By all that was holy, I would not allow my dreams to perish.  My hand shook as I lifted her wrist.  No pulse.  And no heart.  A black hole gaped beneath her left breast.  Bile scalded my throat, and a hard shudder rocketed through my numb body.  Dead violet eyes accused me of murder.  If only a spark of life remained, I could steal her from death, but she was beyond my reach.  Isabeau was dead.

 

I have another book from Double Dragon, Gemini Rising, and a self-published novella, The Night Before Doomsday, about the Grigori, the angels who fell for lust...or was it love?  Purchase links are available on my web site http://www.lindanightingale.com, along with a free read (one of the deletions from Sinners' Opea).

The New York Times Obituaries 2005:

SULTANOV -- Alexei. The House of Steinway & Sons notes with sadness the passing of the pianist Alexei Sultanov on June 30 in Fort Worth, Texas, at the age of 35.

I first heard this Russian-American classical pianist on KUHF, Houston's PBS station, playing Beethoven's Appassionata. At the end of the breathtaking piece, the DJ related Sultanov's tragic story. Captivated by his music and intrigued by the artist, I researched him on the internet.

Alexai Sultanov was born August 7, 1969. His father, Faizul Sultanov, was a cellist, his mother, Natalia Pogorelova was a violinist, and his grandmother was a well-known Uzbek actress. At the age of six, he began piano lessons in Tashkent with Tamara Popovich. Alexai made his formal debut at age seven.

In 1989, he competed in the Eighth Van Cliburn International Piano Competition. At the age of nineteen, he was the youngest in a field of thirty-eight. The prestigious Van Cliburn International Piano Competition, created by Fort Worth teachers in honor of Texan Van Cliburn, was first held in 1962 in Fort Worth. Four years earlier, during the height of the Cold War, Van Cliburn had won the International Tchaikovsky Competition held in Russia.

During the performance, a piano string snapped but Alexai finished his volcanic performance of selections from Liszt, Prokofiev and Chopin. But his critics were divided. In a newspaper interview, Denise Mullins, the Cliburn Foundation's artistic administrator, said, "He took things to the absolute edge of the cliff, and it was very exciting to hear. He wasn't afraid to take a chance on stage, and there aren't a lot of pianists who do that."

Sultanov was awarded First Prize--$15,000 in cash, a recital at Carnegie Hall, a recording contract, and sponsored tours in the U.S. and Europe—in one of the wealthiest competitions in the world. His career was launched.

However, his originality and daring expression worked both for him and against him.

A video of Alexei playing the Appassionata is available on YouTube at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xI4qFLfVmR8

In 1995, Alexei competed in the Chopin International Piano Competition. He was the audience favorite and Polish critic Piotr Wirzbicki labeled him "a great interpreter of the composer's work." The judges did not share Wirzbicki's or the popular view. The Jury declined to award a first prize.

Pianist and Jury Chairman, Jan Ekier stated, "The Chopin tradition has certain standards which must be upheld."

Sultanov retorted, "Give me a great review or a horrible one. If people agree with you too much, that means there's not much personality. The Polish jurists, on the other hand, wanted waltzes played in a slightly lovesick way for all the grandmothers who probably danced them in Chopin's own time."

Decrescendo - a gradual decrease in volume of a musical passage.

Later that fall, he suffered a minor stroke, later discovered by CAT scan when he had a severe stroke one tragic day in February 2001. Dizzy from the flu, he fell and struck his head. A week later, he walked into his neurologist's office, barely able to speak. He was suffering from a subdural hematoma and severe internal bleeding. The doctors were uncertain how the tumor-like clot (outside a blood vessel) had formed. The young pianist slipped into a coma, and a few days later when he awakened, he'd lost the use of his left arm and leg. In his last years, Alexei Sultanov continued to play with his wife Darce taking the left-hand parts. They performed at nursing homes, hospitals, schools and churches.

Wayne Lee Gay at the Fort Worth Star-Telegram wrote this epitaph: "Alexei Sultanov soared to musical heights that other musicians only dream of, and crashed to earth with personal tragedy that few have to bear."

His wife, Darce, said of him, "He was always at the center of attention, always fiery, brilliant. People loved him or hated him, but more people loved him."

I wouldn't mind being remembered that way.

Discography: http://alexeisultanov.free.fr/discography.htm

Morgan Gabriel D’Arcy is a classical pianist, a British Lord and a vampire. He has everything–except Isabeau.

For centuries, he has cherished a dream—a race of immortal crossbreeds possessing vampire strength and human morals. Ambition is not his only motivation. Love is. When Isabeau, his chosen bride, was a child, he appeared to her as an angel and watched over her. As the Angel Gabriel predicted, Isabeau is now a brilliant geneticist. She has come of age, and Morgan is ready to marry her. However, many forces oppose them, not the least of which is Vampyre law. Mating between the human and Vampyre is prohibited–for a very good reason.

An enemy from Morgan’s distant past is stalking him. Paul D’Alembert seeks eye-for-an-eye justice, intending to kill Isabeau as once Morgan killed his beloved. In fact, his enemies are rapidly closing in on them. Will Morgan have time and an opportunity to make his dream come true—to sire a child on Isabeau? Will he outsmart his enemies, protect her and escape death himself? For the first time in eternity, the clock is ticking.

Sinners’ Opera was contracted yesterday by Double Dragon Publishing! This is a special book for me, and I’m delighted to see Morgan “on stage.”

If you'd like to see a man who looks like Morgan, check out the Gevalia coffee ads with Johann.  Yummy!

A couple of weeks ago, I went to the symphony for a performance of Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto #3, in D minor, Op. 30, which is, possibly, my favorite piece of music.  This performance was part of RachFest, as the Houston Symphony has called the package, three performances over three weeks in January.  The moment I saw this on the web site, I was on the phone with the box office for tickets.  I used to be a season’s ticket holder at the symphony, but surrendered my seats a couple of years ago, so I was particularly excited about RachFest.  The package includes Piano Concertos #1, #2, #3 and #4.

The pianist performing is Krill Gerstein, a Russian-born pianist.  In 2010, he won the Gilmore Award, only the sixth musician to be so honored.

Sergei Rachmaninoff composed Piano Concerto #3 in 1909.  The Rach 3 is famous for its technical and musical demands on the artist and has a reputation for being one of the most technically challenging piano concertos.  Rachmaninoff composed the concerto in the peaceful setting of his family home, and first performed it himself on November 28, 1909.  Rachmaninoff was a Russian pianist and composer and was considered one of the finest pianists of his day.  He was born in April of 1873 and died in March of 1943.

In my as-yet unpublished Sinners’ Opera, the hero is a classical pianist, a British lord and a vampire.  In the book, he plays the Rach 3 with the Atlanta Symphony in a scene where he takes the heroine on stage while he plays.  It’s one of my favorite scenes.

http://www.lindanightingale.com

How swiftly time slips away! I had intended to post a blog on yet another great experience at The Shepherd School of Music at Rice University in September of 2010, but never got that “round tuit.” Of course, being the piano lover, the recital was piano. The guest artist was Henri-Paul Sicsic, a Canadian pianist. My friend Beda, who shares with me a love of sports cars, and I went straight from work in the Medical Center (very near Rice), sashayed into the Lillian H. Duncan Recital Hall and took our seats.

I wish I could YouTube this performance for everyone to hear. The program was all-Chopin, beginning with the Mazurka in C-sharp Minor, Op. 41, no.1. When the pianist played Sonata No. 2, in B-flat Minor, Op. 35, Marche funebre: Lento, I learned something new. This is the traditional funeral march. It was so eerie, played first hand, on a concert stage that I actually shivered. This link will take you to a YouTube performance by the master pianist, Arthur Rubenstein playing the March funebre: The Funeral March.

Being a writer of dark paranormal fiction, this piece resonated with me. Though my vampires never died in the traditional sense, they were transformed from normal meat-and-potatoes kind of folk to eternal hunters by a blood-borne pathogen (another story). I could imagine my British lord, concert pianist and vampire playing Chopin’s Funeral March on a dark, lonely night when eternity weighed too heavily on his shoulders. If you’d like to meet Morgan, please visit my web site for a free read, called Vampyre Hunt. http://www.lindanightingale.com/

As I pen these words, I am listening to Mr. Rubenstein’s rendition, and even now, I shiver, thinking that the young Chopin, who died at 39, wrote his own funeral march. His grave monument in Clesinger is Euterpe (Greek muse of music) weeping over a broken lyre.

On a happier note, maybe in my next blog, I’ll write about the romance between the immortal Chopin and the novelist George Sand (Aurore Lucile Dupin, later Baroness of Dudevant, 1 July 1804 – 8 June 1876).

There are several movies about this love affair, none of them historically accurate, but my favorites are Impromptu and Chopin: Desire for Love. Don’t expect a history lesson. These films are romantic fantasies, but both feature his music.

The New York Times Obituaries 2005:
SULTANOV -- Alexei. The House of Steinway & Sons notes with sadness the passing of the pianist Alexei Sultanov on June 30 in Fort Worth, Texas, at the age of 35.




I first heard this Russian-American classical pianist on KUHF, Houston's PBS station, playing Beethoven's Appassionata. At the end of the breathtaking piece, the DJ related Sultanov's tragic story. Captivated by his music and intrigued by the artist, I researched him on the internet.

Alexai Sultanov was born August 7, 1969. His father, Faizul Sultanov, was a cellist, his mother, Natalia Pogorelova was a violinist, and his grandmother was a well-known Uzbek actress. At the age of six, he began piano lessons in Tashkent with Tamara Popovich. Alexai made his formal debut at age seven.

In 1989, he competed in the Eighth Van Cliburn International Piano Competition. At the age of nineteen, he was the youngest in a field of thirty-eight. The prestigious Van Cliburn International Piano Competition, created by Fort Worth teachers in honor of Texan Van Cliburn, was first held in 1962 in Fort Worth. Four years earlier, during the height of the Cold War, Van Cliburn had won the International Tchaikovsky Competition held in Russia.

During the performance, a piano string snapped but Alexai finished his volcanic performance of selections from Liszt, Prokofiev and Chopin. But his critics were divided. In a newspaper interview, Denise Mullins, the Cliburn Foundation's artistic administrator, said, "He took things to the absolute edge of the cliff, and it was very exciting to hear. He wasn't afraid to take a chance on stage, and there aren't a lot of pianists who do that."

Sultanov was awarded First Prize--$15,000 in cash, a recital at Carnegie Hall, a recording contract, and sponsored tours in the U.S. and Europe—in one of the wealthiest competitions in the world. His career was launched.

However, his originality and daring expression worked both for him and against him.
(Continued 4/26/07)

A video of Alexei playing the Appassionata is available on YouTube at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xI4qFLfVmR8.

There is a lot to hate about Houston. It is big, sprawling—not a beautiful city. It was the last place I'd thought ever to return. In 2003, when I left for South Carolina, as the country music song says, I tore off the rearview mirror in my truck (Miata) so that I couldn't look back.

There is a lot to love about the city as well. Last night, a friend and I attended a Faculty Recital at the Shepherd School of Music at Rice University (a hop skip and jump from where I work). I like violin. I LOVE PIANO. This was a recital for violin and piano.

Last year, I heard the famous violinist Joshua Bell when he played with the Houston Symphony on his 300-year-old Stradivarius called the Gibson ex Huberman, which was made in 1713 during what is known as Antonio Stradivari's "Golden Era." Bell played the solos in the movie Ladies in Lavender and The Red Violin. (Sidebar: The Red Violin follows the life of a violin built in Italy in 1681, known for its rich red color, to a present-day auction in Canada where its secret is revealed). It has been said of Bell, "He plays like a god." I could write more about Bell. He is 40'ish and boyishly handsome but…

Sergiu Luca, Professor of Violin at Shepherd, is a phenomenal, riveting master of his instrument. A native of Rumania, Mr. Luca made his debut at age nine with Israel's Haifa Symphony. In 1965, he made his U.S. debut with the Philadelphia Orchestra and was chosen by Leonard Bernstein to play with the New York Philharmonic for a special tribute to Finnish composer Jean Sibelius.

Another breathtaking aspect of the evening was the instruments played. The Mozart Sonatas were played on a Sanctus Seraphin violin, made in Venice in 1733, believed to be the only example from the great Italian violin-making era to have survived in an original, unaltered state. The 1810 piano was made in Vienna by Michael Rosenberger of The Netherlands, and is an early six-octave piano, belonging to the first group of pianos fitted with pedals (six) instead of the knee levers previously used. It was an exquisite burled walnut and had three delicate legs.

The French repertoire by Ravel, Debussy and Saint-Saens was played on a 1829 violin made in Vienna by Nicolaus Sawicki and is believed to have been made for and owned by Paganini, who'd entrusted his 1741 Del Gesu (known as "the Canon) to the great virtuoso for repair and restoration. The 1829 violin is identical to, and probably the first copy of the Del Gesu.

Some enchanted evening…I don't think I breathed for 2 hours and that hasn't happened since I say Phantom of the Opera. I wish you could have been there.