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Anya's Dream
Kay Layton Sisk
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It shouldn't be this hard to get respect: do the job and do it well. But rock band Bone Cold--Alive doesn't want newly-hired choreographer Anya Smith, and they're doing everything they can to make her quit.

It should be easy to make the new employee leave. After all, they've excelled in bad behavior for years. But Bo Bailey finds admiration replacing animosity, as Anya fights back--and unfairly, to boot!

The smell hit her as she opened the door. Thank you, thank you! She bee-lined for the pot, only to be stopped a foot from it by SC’s voice.

"Get a cup, unplug it, set the whole contraption outside.” The graphic designer was sitting in her usual spot, front and center in the control booth. She wore headphones, and her fingers were playing the soundboard like a piano. She hadn’t looked at Anya and her voice was barely over a whisper.

How strange was this? "Okay.”

SC didn’t miss a beat. "Then get over here and sit down. And scrunch down. As little movement as possible, although I don’t think it’ll make a difference at this point.”

What point? SC made about as much sense as… well, she didn’t make any sense. Anya poured her coffee and evicted the coffee machine as instructed. Grabbing two doughnuts from the box and several napkins, she ducked her head as she joined SC.

"Why are we the only two here?” Generally, there was a contingent of sound people, SC’s crew.

"Because that’s the way the band wants it. Just me. But I think it’s important you know what everyone else does. Now hush and listen.” She handed Anya a set of headphones and she slipped them on, then was motioned to put her coffee cup on the side away from SC.

Good Lord! Her mind came to a standstill in the wake of what she heard through the headset. Male voices harmonizing a cappella. The tones were rich and bold, vibrating and soaring. She closed her eyes and forgot about the doughnuts and the coffee. They sang a spiritual, a hymn she learned as a child. But she’d never heard it like this.

Gradually, she opened her eyes and, holding her breath, leaned to look into the studio proper. Bone Cold--Alive sat on five stools, circled tightly, knee-to-knee. Dressed in jeans and tee shirts, they were all barefooted, headsets on and a single microphone hanging into the middle. The spiritual ended and immediately another began. C sang the first notes, and they joined him.

"Unbelievable,” she whispered to SC.

"They’ve been doing it since five this morning. Or at least, that’s when Bo showed up, according to Stan on the lobby desk. Like lemmings to the sea, they heard some instinctive call and they came in. Stan called me at six since he knew what was about to happen.” She continued to peer into the studio. "I’ve seen it several times. Always, it’s poetry.”

Writing is second nature to Kay Sisk, and she’s been doing it since she wrote stories with her fourth grade friends as heroines. She enjoys writing about her native Texas, where she lives with her husband of 35 years and "third family” of three cats, the first family of dogs and second family of sons, having left the nest years ago.

Fiction Books :: Mystery & Detective Books :: General Books

ISBN: 1597058181
ISBN(13-digit): 9781597058185
Copyright: 2008
Book Publisher: Wings e Press
Binding: Perfect
No. of Pages: 341

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