New Adult Threesome Contest Entry #16

Title:  WORDS IN THE WINDOWSILL

Genre:  NA Spec-Historical Fiction/Time Travel

Word Count:  60,000

Query: 

Grad student and self-proclaimed “Ladies Man” Hans Meyer has the world at his piano-playing fingertips.  All he has left to do is write his thesis.  But when his research takes him two centuries back in time, Hans stumbles upon a secret that will change history, turning this 21st century “player” into a gentleman.

Hans has discovered the manuscript for a mysterious symphony-composer, unknown.  Recognizing that this discovery could make a fantastic thesis, Hans sets off for Germany in the name of research.  When he begins receiving text messages from a bizarre entity, identified only as “Vox”, Hans becomes intrigued.

Vox’s messages convince Hans that there is a way to learn firsthand about the history of the piece:  a trip on The Time Train.  Curiosity combined with a desire to write a killer thesis override Hans’ reservations and he lets destiny buy him a ticket to ride.  After a stunning trip through time, he is dropped off at the doorstep of The Fiddler’s Inn, in Vienna, 1820. 

Time in the 19^th century illuminates many things for Hans.  He meets a sixteen year old mute boy named Florian, and gives him piano lessons in exchange for room and board at the inn.  He also encounters Analeise, a Viennese beauty, and experiences real love for the first time, transforming this 21^st century cad into a gentleman. 

But the most earth shattering discovery, however, were the words Hans found in the windowsill of his 19^th century bedchamber.  Eighteen year old love letters, written between a chambermaid and Beethoven describe a secret union that produced an offspring…a boy who would one day compose the mysterious symphony.   Hans recognizes that this knowledge changes history.  If Hans goes forth with this information, the future will be rewritten.  And Hans may not be able to exist with that.

First 250:

With my right foot firmly planted on the piano’s sustain pedal, the final tones of “Piano Man” suffocated under the din at The Tavern.

“They can’t get enough of me!” I shouted over my shoulder at Joe, my buddy, still seated back at the bar.  The end of semester partiers, mostly females, made it hard for Joe to hear me.  He cupped a hand to his ear in an attempt to get me to repeat myself. 

I’d been behind the piano at The Tavern for several numbers that night, the women in the crowd swooning over my every note.  I had that effect on the ladies, or at least my music did.  I began my musical studies at the age of five and never stopped.  Now as a graduate music student, I had lots of skills under my belt.

“Alright, last song.”  I winked at the cutie standing to my right.  “I’m headed across the Atlantic in a couple days,” I announced, as the crowd began to hush, “and I can’t think of a better reason to play Billy Joel’s ‘Vienna’.  Enjoy.”

The noise of the crowd decrescendoed to silence.  Focusing myself, I began with the treble right hand notes fluttering over the keys in the song’s tinkling pattern, my years of classical piano training shining through.  The song’s poignant lyrics filled the room as I sang.  I moved into the instrumental interlude, but not with a harmonica, as Billy Joel did.  Instead, I improvised a solo.