The Christmas Violin
One Christmas. Three lives. One unforgettable story. A widower, a grieving mother and a homeless woman have one thing in common – a cemetery.Willow, a concert violinist, begins each morning by playing her son the lullaby she wrote for him at his tomb. The melody enchants Peter during his daily visit to his wife’s grave. The homeless woman, who finds refuge in the cemetery, is equally drawn to the haunting music.Like a violin concerto, the story unfolds in three movements, unexpectedly intertwining the fates of these characters.Praise for Buffy Andrews'5 Huge-Tear-Stained-Stars!' - Smut & Spitfire on The Moment Keeper'Be warned this is a tale about choices, bereavement and relationships in this book which may cause a few tears to fall…' - Cleopatra Loves Books on The Moment Keeper'Once again this author manages to provide me, on finishing this story, with a WOW moment! And once again she manages to add herself to my 'authors who made me cry' list.' - Fiona's Book Reviews on The Christmas Violin
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Can there ever be an encore to true love?
It used to be that the only woman he could think about was Camilla. When he closed his eyes it was her that he saw. But now, he saw Willow. And it scared him and made him feel guilty. And yet he couldnât help himself, couldnât help feeling what he was feelingâ¦
The last thing grief-stricken widower Peter St John expects to find at the cemetery is love. But one evening, as he lays flowers on Camillaâs grave, he is drawn to the haunting melody of a solitary violin player.
And so he encounters beautiful concert violinist Willow Channing, who has her own grief to contend with.
A second, chance meeting fuels the fire. And soon Peter knows that as one song ended, another might begin.
The Christmas Violin
Buffy Andrews
HQ
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2013
Copyright © Buffy Andrews 2013
Buffy Andrews asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the authorâs imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
E-book Edition © December 2013 ISBN: 9781472054838
Version date: 2018-09-19
BUFFY ANDREWS
is an author, blogger, journalist and social media maven.
By day sheâs a journalist, leading an award-winning staff at the York Daily Record/Sunday News, where she is Assistant Managing Editor of Features and Niche Publications and social media coordinator.
You will find her on a plethora of social networking sites, from Twitter and Facebook to RebelMouse and NewHive. She loves social media and loves to connect with her readers via the various platforms.
In addition to her writing blog, Buffyâs Write Zone, she maintains a social media blog, Buffyâs World.
She is also a newspaper and magazine columnist and writes middle-grade, young adult and womenâs fiction.
She loves hats and everything Disney. Her favorite colors are lime green and pink. She hates odd numbers and arrogant people. And if you ask her what her favorite book as a child was, sheâll tell you The Little House by Virginia Lee Burton.
She lives in southcentral Pennsylvania with her husband, Tom; two sons, Zach and Micah; and wheaten cairn terrier Kakita. She is grateful for their love and support and for reminding her of whatâs most important in life.
I thank God for His love, understanding and guidance.
I thank Beth Vrabel, Helen Williams and Alison Tulett for loving this work and helping me fine-tune it.
I thank Robin Bohanan, Kris Ort, Sharon Kirchoff and my sisters Dawn Beakler, Cindy Andrews and Tania Nade for their love and support.
I thank Colleen Rowan Kosinski, Krista Krueger, Katie Lee, Carrie Filetti, James Pottebaum, Louise Caiola, Christine Norris, Jessica Robinson, Linda Robinson Brendle, and Lee Richmond â the best cheerleaders in the whole universe!
I thank my sons, Zach and Micah, who remind me every day how blessed I am to have them in my life.
And, lastly, I thank my husband, Tom, my forever love.
In memory of mom and dad, who bought me my first violin and taught me to always follow my dreams â and my heart.
Contents
She went to his grave every day. It was like breathing. Automatic. Something she did without thinking. It had become routine. Not in a bad way. Not like when she recited the confession in church, saying the words but not really paying attention to what they meant. But routine in the way that if she didnât go, her day wouldnât feel quite right.
Once, she tried not coming. She almost got through the whole day, too. But when she closed her eyes that night, she saw him â his four-year-old head a tangled mess of red curls and his eyes, the color of the Caribbean, clear and bright. He beckoned her. Whispered for her to come. He needed her. Next thing she knew she was on her knees in front of the small granite grave, her floral cotton nightgown bunched up around her.
She didnât know she had company. Didnât see him staring from a few graves away. Normally, he came when the day was closing its eyes. But today was an exception. Today, he was there before the morning could finish its yawn. He had to be at the airport by eight.
