Ms. McMillan's characters always seem to make me love them pretty much from chapter one and Oliver and Rose did precisely that. I think it was that they simply understood each other so inherently, so completely, yet they were so hopeless at seeing the heart of the other that was falling so madly! A good marriage of convenience story convinces me that these two people will fit, even as they slowly learn the same thing. And Oliver and Rose? Oh do they ever fit each other! Even the flaws and idiosyncrasies that flare up naturally in them they somehow find endearing about the other! If they were real, I might just find them a bit sickeningly sweet, but on the page? My heart just wanted more!
Endearing, charming, delightful, I could spend paragraphs expounding on how there aren't enough adjectives to describe my LOVE of this story. I could gush about every detail, yet I acknowledge that the greatest pleasure is found in discovering the gem for yourself! So go do that, friends. Drop whatever other book you've started, rush out and buy this one immediately, and then fall in love just as I did! Oliver and Rose and the music of their hearts are worth it. Trust me! :)
**I received a copy from the author. All opinions expressed are my own.
Every experience Oliver had with falling in love was intertwined with music. Falling in love with Rose was different. There was something elusive about music. Rose was flesh and blood with a freckle on the side of her nose and tendrils of hair that rebelled against their perfect braids. You could coax music to your will and rehearse it into its best version. Rose was beautifully, thrillingly, unpredictable.
"This is awkward"-he drew an imaginary line-"and we are going to hop over that."
"Oliver, we just married each other. How could it get any more awkward than that?"
And all of the history stayed with her just like the names of the buildings she passed every day, "The Golden Wings", "To the Green Pillar", "To the Golden Crown", the Platz and the graffiti-walled park, the baroque suburban houses, the alleyway markets like sweet secrets tucked in the pockets of the street's ivory and yellow coat.
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