Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
“I’m scared,” I admit. I’m petrified. I sang softly in my crib earlier, but it was scary. I’m so worried about my range.
He kisses me again. “It’s just me here, Little songbird. I would never judge you. Sing for me. Keep it soft so you don’t injure your vocal cords.”
I clear my throat and close my eyes, letting myself go into my head where I can see the music. I’ll sing him something I wrote myself. I bet I could write amazing music here because it’s so beautiful. I bet anything I write from now on will be totally different from what I’ve written before.
Happy, uplifting tones come to mind. Colorful to match my new world. Sexy to match my new love life. I don’t think I want to sing something from my previous life. I need something new.
I hum for a while as a tune comes together in my head. It’s nothing really. Not yet. Just notes.
I’m aware that Raevion is staring at me. His fingers are idly stroking my thigh. It’s not meant to be particularly sexual, but every touch from Papi is sexual, and the feel of his fingers is fueling my creativity perhaps more than anything else around me.
I keep humming, and eventually words come to mind. There’s no structure, but that’s okay. I can feel the song in my soul, random words and thoughts coalescing. I hum and sing. “…all the colors in the rainbow can’t compare to…” I hum some more. “…pure like the air…” Hum. “sweet tastes and gentle kisses…”
Eventually I stop singing and open my eyes.
Papi is staring down at me. He’s grinning wide. There are tears in his eyes. “Sara… That’s so beautiful. You’re so talented. Did you make that up just now?”
I nod, my cheeks heating. “My range isn’t there for some of my older stuff,” I murmur.
“It will come, Baby girl, but if it never did, you still have so much.” He kisses all over my face. “Your music touches my soul.”
“Will I be able to sing here, Papi?” My lips tremble as I ask. He evades me every time I inquire about my job prospects.
“You’ll be able to sing, Little one, but not on a stage. Not like you’re picturing. We don’t have that sort of thing here.”
“You don’t have bars and clubs where people perform?”
He shakes his head. “No, but more importantly, our females are all like you—coddled, protected, submissive. They don’t hold down public jobs. They don’t dress in slinky evening wear or any other costumes like you’re used to. We have music. Our own music is all produced by men, but we also have every type of music from your planet. We’ve brought it here. You can listen to anything you want. We have all your books, too. It takes a while for the latest releases to get here from Earth because everything comes when one of us returns with a mate.”
I manage to reach for his arm and squeeze it with my semi-functional hand. It’s a relief to know I’ll have access to music and books. “What about movies and television?”
“We get that, too, Little one.”
“But…” I’m still sad about my own singing. I look away as tears fill my eyes.
Papi kisses my cheeks. “You will sing, Baby girl, just not in front of an audience.”
“Where would I sing? How would I get discovered?”
Papi’s smile grows. “I’ll show you.”
Chapter Eighteen
Raevion
It’s time. My Little girl is hurting. She needs to know that she will be able to explore her talent here. I’ve held off telling her because I was worried about her singing voice, and I didn’t think she was ready, but her range is amazing. It will all come back. I’m certain. Plus, I wasn’t kidding. It wouldn’t matter. If she never improved past what she has today, she would be a star.
I rise to my knees, scoop her into my arms, and carry her into the house. Instead of heading toward the hallway that leads to her nursery and my bedroom, I head the other direction, toward the door to the rooms I have not yet shown her. My workspace.
I shift Sara so she’s propped upright on my hip, keeping a hand on her back in case she sways.
Finally, I open the door and step inside.
Sara’s eyes go wide. Several seconds tick by while her gaze darts around the space before she gasps. “What is this?”
“It’s a recording studio.” I beam at her.
“Why do you have a recording studio in your home?”
“It’s what I do for a living, Little one. I’m a producer.”
“Of music?”
“Of everything, but that includes music. Sometimes people come here to record talk shows or other entertainment. Some days I work with material that comes from Earth and make it available to the public.” I give her a squeeze. “Fate knew what She was doing when She put you in my path, Little one. You can record all the songs you want here any time you feel like it.”