Music of the Soul
Music of the Soul
Copyright © 2013 by Katie Ashley
Formatting by
Cris Soriaga | BookMarked! Designs
Edited by
Marrion Archer | Making Manuscripts
Cover Designed by
Letitia Hasser | RBA Designs
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be
reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any
means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written
permission of the above author of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the
product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked
status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been
used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with,
or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
The Pairing Synopsis
Strings of the Heart Synopsis
About the Author
To
Cris Hadarly
—thanks for loving Jake and Abby as much as I do. You’re the tiniest person
yet greatest cheerleader I have! Thanks for supporting me and my books. Love you hard, girlie!!!
First and foremost thanks goes to
God
for all of his amazing blessing in my life the past year.
To my readers
: I cannot thank you enough for your support and your love of my books. You are
the most amazing blessing I have had in this business. Big, big hugs and love from me!
To Marion Archer
—editor and plot magician extraordinaire—I couldn’t make it without you.
You bring so much to my books and make me a better writer and story-teller.
To Marilyn Medina
: Your “eagle eyes” know no bounds, and I’m so thankful for getting to work
with you, as well as your friendship. Golden Girls 4-Ever!
To Kim Bias
: I can’t thank you enough for talking me down from the ledge as well as making my
books the best they can be. Thanks for the plot/blurb sessions. You do rock my socks!
To Shannon Furhman, Tammara Debbaut, Jen Gerchick, Jen Oreto, and Brandi Money
:
Thank you so much for being my “sluts” and working so hard to promote and support me. I can’t tell
you how much I appreciate it.
To my street team,
Ashley’s Angels
, thank you so much for your support of me and my books.
To
Raine Miller and RK Lilley
: SCOLS 4-EVER! Thanks for your unfailing love and support in
all areas personally and professionally. I couldn’t ask for better friends and travel partners!
To the ladies of the Hot Ones:
Karen Lawson, Amy Lineaweaver, Marion Archer, and Merci
Arellano
, thank you all for the laughter, the friendship, and the support. You’re all amazing!!
I ducked my head under one of the low hanging oak trees as my feet crunched along the gravel
pathway. The ache in my chest grew as I made the familiar pilgrimage through the garden of
multicolored stones. Cool Springs Memorial Park was the last place on earth I wanted to be today,
but my heart drove me there.
Close to the duck pond and beneath a massive oak tree was my mother’s final resting place.
“Hey Mama,” I murmured, as I crouched down onto my knees on the grassy earth. The only reply I
received was a few tweets from the birds nestled in the tree above me. “Brought you some flowers.”
Although the sun had yet to fade the bouquet of silk lilies on her headstone, I had still brought new
ones. A smile crept on my lips as I went about replacing the flowers. I could almost hear her chiding
me while a perfect picture of her with her hand on hip while wagging a finger at me formed in my
mind. “Jacob Ethan Slater, why on earth would you bring me new flowers when the ones I’ve got are
perfectly good? Didn’t I teach you a thing about managing finances?”
“There. That looks better, doesn’t it?” Cocking my head, I surmised the deep reds, oranges, and
purples of the silk flower arrangement that I had just placed in the bronze vase on her marker. “Hope
you like the fall flowers. Abby picked them out. Of course, if she was with me, she would know
exactly how to reshape them and all, but I have no freakin’ clue.”
Although I felt like a tool doing it, I always spoke aloud to her when I came to visit her grave. It
wasn’t like I thought she could hear me—it was all part of my grief counseling. After her death when I
had gone into a dark place, I had balked at seeing any professional therapists. I didn’t feel right
sharing my deepest, darkest thoughts and feelings with a stranger. So Abby had volunteered her
mother’s services. As the wife of a minister, Laura was used to consoling people. At times, I still felt
guarded talking to her. She was the one who had given me the idea to talk to Mama to get my feelings
out.
Rising to my feet, I wiped my dirty hands on my jeans. “I won’t be back for a few weeks, but
Papa is going to check in on you. You know, make sure your flowers are okay if it comes up a bad
cloud, as he would say.” Grinning at the thought of my grandfather and his Southern euphemisms, I
brushed the back of my hand over my face. “Abby and I are leaving tomorrow for Mexico—we’re
getting married on some private beach there. I can’t even begin to understand what she has planned.
I’m just keeping my mouth shut and going along for the ride.” Shaking my head, I smiled when I
thought of how the office in my old house—now mine and Abby’s—had been transformed into
wedding planning central.
Gazing down at the marker, I sighed. “I know you’d be disappointed I wasn’t getting married in
a church, Mama. Trust me, Abby’s parents totally flipped out that we weren’t getting married at her
dad’s church. But this island is beautiful, and it gives us privacy from the paparazzi. We’ll have the
whole place to ourselves for a week—they only bring meals and do housekeeping when you call, and
then they come by private boat. After the last few months of touring, I’m stoked as hell to have all that
time alone with Abby.”