Please welcome Ava Hayden with
The Timpanist And The Stagehand
Ren Murphy is a stagehand. He’s also a loyal friend, a gifted musician, and an inspiring teacher—but most people don’t see past his job. Ren knows that crushing on the Oilton Philharmonic Orchestra’s principal timpanist, Christoph Theoharis, is a waste of time. Christoph brushes off highly eligible would-be suitors regularly. What chance would a stagehand have? Christoph doesn’t even notice Ren’s existence—until one fateful night when chance or luck or maybe fate gets Ren Christoph’s undivided attention.
Old betrayals overshadow both men’s lives, yet each sees something compelling in the other, something that won’t let either walk away. Ren and Christoph may be each other’s best hope of finding a happy-ever-after, but to do that they’ll have to forgive old wrongs. They’ll have to let go of the pain in their past before it destroys their hope for a better future. Most of all, they’ll have to nd a way to believe—in possibilities and each other.
Get the book:
I'd like to thank My Fiction Nook for allowing me to guest blog about Dreamspinner Press’s release of my new novella, The Timpanist and the Stagehand, on Wednesday, April 13.
I’m lucky to live in a city with a wonderful orchestra. Going to concerts is what gave me the idea for The Timpanist and the Stagehand.
I wasn’t sure what to expect that first symphony season in the city I’d just relocated to (many years ago now). Would it be stuffy? Just a bunch of elderly patrons? As it turned out, those stereotypes had nothing to do with the reality of our philharmonic orchestra.
Yes, there are many concertgoers who have long since qualified for the senior discount, but there are also people from every age bracket and background. I see pre-teens, teenagers and new adults, quite a few of them music students judging by the conversations I hear. Like Trista in The Timpanist and the Stagehand, many of them are there to watch and learn.
At every concert, I hear a variety of languages and English spoken in a myriad of accents. When guest performers or conductors appear, or when a program features work from a musician hailing from a country that has a large group of immigrants in the city, often a contingent of their fellow citizens attend, and sometimes representatives from that country’s consulate.
Some people wear fancy dress and some don’t. Some sip wine and others nibble Häagen-Dazs bars. What brings everyone there is a love of music. (Or perhaps a hot date with someone who does.)
People watching at the symphony is excellent. That man, up there in the loge, the only person sitting alone in his box—a critic here to write a review? A grieving widower? Someone stood up by a date? What’s his story?
Overheard conversations can be enormously entertaining. One evening two women sitting beside me peered down at the beautiful guest cellist taking her seat with a glossy ebony black cello.
One of the women pulled out a pair of opera glasses and zeroed in. “Is that a TATTOO?”
The other grabbed the opera glasses. “What? Let me see.”
They yanked the opera glasses out of each other’s hands through the entire performance and no—that part wasn’t entertaining!
About the author:
Ava Hayden lives and writes in Canada but grew up in the southern United States. When not working the day job or writing, she loves reading, baking, seeing plays, going to the symphony, and hiking. Her favorite places to hike are Banff and Jasper National Parks, Kananaskis Country, and Vancouver Island.
Promotional post. Materials provided by the author.