Dear Diary, Most of the night was spent dreaming of this Phantom. I would never admit it to anyone, but I believe I m enamored with this legendary figure. The strange goings-on at the Opera House are eerie, but I m always eager to go back.
My name is Annette Binoche. I am 18 years old, and the new seamstress assistant at the New York Metropolitan Opera House. I am lucky to find this job. I never expected to be the lead singer in a new opera and I get involved with a phantom whose madness spanned centuries.
There was a tragic occurrence in the Paris Opera House that everyone claims this is the same phantom who now terrorize the New York Opera House. I would get away, but I love it here...New York, the Opera, this job, and then there is Eric, who seems a little older than me, but knows the music better than anyone. He is my vocal coach; and has helped me develop the side of me that I never knew existed. There is something about Eric. Can I resist the phantom's passion, even if my life depends on it? -
About the Author-
I have never the Phantom of the opera, but my mom said that it was one of the best plays that she had seen. The book is a great young adult paranormal modern day version of the Phantom of the Opera. There was a lot of twists and turns and of course romance. Eric was mysterious, romantic and compassionate. The book was well written and I really enjoyed it. I have never read any of the author's books before and it will not be the last.
Read an Excerpt.
My breath caught in my throat and I had to remind myself to breathe. My fingers remained frozen above the ivory keys, poised to play again. I listened and while I heard nothing, I felt something.
I glanced sidelong on either side of me, reluctant to turn around and face who or what was actually behind me. Steeling myself, I finally turned around and was hardly surprised to see a young man standing there.
“That was quite lovely,” he said with a hint of a European accent; French perhaps.
“Hello.” Nothing more came to mind.
From what I could see, he was handsome, painfully so. Dark waves of thick hair flowed to his shoulders and, in the gloom of the room, and through the mask he wore, I could just barely make out the startlingly blue eyes that stared at me. His chin was strong, his lips welcoming, tender and sensual.
“You mustn’t have heard that the show has been temporarily cancelled,” I offered. He was in costume, that of an eighteenth century aristocrat. But the elegance of his attire betrayed his strength. The breadth of his chest, the power of his arms and the sensual line of his thighs were all quite evident. “Are you a swordsman?”
What a stupid question. I immediately felt the blood rush to my face and thanked the darkness.
“Your voice carries well. The emotion you evoke is almost painful.” His voice was smooth and calm. Though he appeared to be barely older than I, he exuded confidence and despite the unusual circumstance of our encounter, I felt at ease, almost as if I knew him.
I tried to concentrate on what he was saying and on keeping my eyes from drifting down over the strong line of his shoulders. “I don’t remember seeing such a costume in the wardrobe department. It’s quite magnificent. Very authentic looking.”
He smiled and I had to reach for the piano to steady myself. A wave of warmth spread over me, ran through my hair and soothed the nape of my neck.
“Have you considered trying out for the role of Adelle?”
“The lead? Me? In the Masquerade? No. Of course not.”
“You have the rich tone and depth Marie lacked. You’re also considerably more beautiful. Marie’s appeal was flat and one-dimensional. Blond is so predictable; but the depth of darkness that surrounds your flawless skin makes a man burn to get closer.”
I swallowed and my gut turned an involuntary somersault. To emphasize his words he took a step closer and I was mesmerized by the power of his stride. His scent came to me and I wanted to inhale deeply and breathe him all in. He wasn’t artificially perfumed, but the blend of leather, linen and plain old masculinity was intoxicating.
“You could easily be the star of this show, Annette.”
He knew my name and I knew I should question how, but my eyes dipped down to his chest and the urge to put my hand to the fine fabric of his jacket was more than I could bear.
“I’m just a seamstress, not a singer. And I should get back to wardrobe. Roberta will be looking for me.” I grabbed the sheets of music and stepped around him, my heart pounding.
Heat seared up my arm as he reached out for my hand and stopped my progress. “Return at five o’clock . I’ll wait for you.”
My gaze remained on his lips, expecting to see a playful smile, flirtatious grin or victorious smirk. But his mouth remained aligned in determination and I knew I would do as he requested.
“And who, exactly, are you?”
Disclaimer: I received a free copy of the book by the author for my honest review and I was not compensated for my review.