Pumpkin Patch Hijinks Halloween

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Copyright © 2021 by Andrea Marie

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means,
including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author,
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Edited by Stephany Esposito.

Cover Design by Poppy Pre-mades.

Created with Vellum

CONTENTS

1. Wyatt

2. Annabelle

3. Wyatt

Annabelle

4. Wyatt

Annabelle

5. Wyatt

Annabelle

6. Wyatt

Annabelle

7. Wyatt

8. Annabelle

Epilogue

Halloween Steam Series!

About the Author

Acknowledgments

CHAPTER ONE

WYATT

“MCCAFFREY EVENTS SPEAKING. How may we help you?” I say, stating the normal phone

greeting of my sister’s and my company.

“Hello, this is Mrs. Watts. My husband and I own Watts Vegetable Farm. We’d like to host a

Halloween bash here at the farm on Halloween night and your company was recommended to us by
the Town Council.”

“That’s wonderful. While I have you on the phone, I’ll collect the basic info from you like date,

time, duration, address, budget, theme, number of attendees, etc. Then we’ll book an appointment so

my co-owner, Sonja, can come out to the venue to go over planning with you in person.”

“Sounds absolutely perfect. Thank you,” she replies.

After twenty or so questions later, I finish up the phone conversation. “All right, I believe I have

everything written down. I’ll send you an email with all of the info you’ve given me, and Sonja will

be at your farm in two days time. I just need to doublecheck the exact time with her. Once that’s been

decided, I’ll add it to the email and send it to you. Thank you for choosing McCaffrey Events, hope

you enjoy the rest of your day,” I say, then hang up the phone and lean back in my swivel chair to relax

for a few moments.

After I congratulate myself on a job well done, I exit my office, walk across the hallway, and

knock on my co-owner’s office door.

“One moment please,” she calls from behind the door. A couple minutes go by. “Please come in.”

Opening the door, I saunter inside and sit on her black leather couch as she opens her little fridge,

removes two bottles of water, then hands me one. “What? No fancy coffee today?” I ask in a teasing

way.

“Ha ha. You know I never drink coffee after I get off my treadmill, Wyatt,” she says as she nods

toward her exercise equipment in the corner of her office. “Now, what’s up?”

“What is up is I just confirmed another gig for us. Halloween bash at the Watts Vegetable Farm on

the edge of town. Turns out, the Town Council is quickly becoming one of our biggest supporters.”

She grins. “See, I told you that offering our services for free for the town’s last holiday gathering

would pay off. We need to think ahead for us and our business. Not just the present.” She takes a seat

opposite me. “So, when do I go to meet the Watts?”

“I told Mrs. Watts to expect you in two days’ time. As soon as you check your calendar and pick a

timeframe, I can email her with all of the info,” I say, taking a deep sip of water.

She studies her calendar. “Wait! They want to have it on October thirty-first?”

I stare at her, slightly surprised. “Well, yes. Why?”

“I can’t work that date,” she replies quietly.

Okay, now I’m confused. “Sonja, what are you talking about? I thought our business was important

to you.”

“Of course, it is,” she snaps back, rolling her eyes at me. “But there’s more to my life than just

this business, you know.”

I huff out a breath. “I do realize that, so what are we going to do? You normally attend the party to

make sure things run smoothly. I’m the behind-the-scenes part of the company.” The main reason for

that is I hate being in crowded places, especially big parties. I know, odd occupation choice for

someone that doesn’t like to be out in the public. But normally I don’t have to.

A light goes off in her head. “I’ve got it. You could take my place there to supervise.”

“Me?” I say in shock. “Please tell me that you’re joking.”

She lays a hand on my shoulder. “Wyatt, you can do this. I believe in you. Please, just do it this

one time. Then we can hire a supervisor to take some of the load off from us.”

I sigh loudly. “All right. Just this once though.”

She kisses me on the cheek. “Have I told you lately that you’re the best baby brother I’ve ever

had?”

“Ha! Nice try, I’m your only brother.”

She returns to her calendar, grinning. “All right, it looks like I’m available to meet with the Watts

at one in the afternoon two days from now.”

“Sounds good. I’ll go email Mrs. Watts now,” I say, waving to her. As I leave her office, I can’t
help but wonder, What the hell have I just agreed to?

CHAPTER TWO

ANNABELLE

“ANNABELLE, dear, please grab the tray of refreshments that’s on the kitchen table. It’s turning out

to be a wonderful autumn day. I think it would be just lovely to have our meeting with Ms. McCaffrey

on the veranda,” calls my mother from the kitchen.

“Yes, Mother. I’m coming,” I call back as I pull my twenty-year-old body off the family room

couch, though not before placing a bookmark to hold my place in the most recent erotica book I’m

reading at the moment. I hide it beneath my pillow in case my father decides to sit on the couch to rest

after working in the vegetable fields all day. My two younger brothers, who are sixteen and fourteen,

are with him. I would’ve been as well but my mother thought it would be better if I help plan this

Halloween bash that they—I mean she—want to have.

Walking into the kitchen, I gather the tray, then carefully head out to the veranda where my mother

has just laid a checkered tablecloth onto the little table that sits out here, then places a vase filled

with sunflowers. That’s my mother. She’s all about being the hostess.

“Annabelle, is that really what you’re going to wear for our guest?” she asks, surprised.

I look down at what I’m wearing. “What’s wrong with it? I normally wear jean shorts and a tank

top when I’m home, even when I’m working in the fields.”

“Please go upstairs and change into something more respectable,” she answers straight-faced.

I throw my hands up into the air. “Augh, fine!” I shout, then stomp back inside the house, making

sure to grab my book from under the pillow on the couch, then trudge up to my bedroom in utter

annoyance. I mean, what is really wrong with what I’m wearing? Would she rather I wear some

barely there black lingerie that the heroine wears in the story that I’m currently reading? I don’t think

so!
As I finally calm down, I decide on a pair of black leggings, and a sweater dress, which I know

will have Mom’s approval since she’s the one that purchased it for me. After that, I step in front of my

dresser, pick up my hairbrush and brush out all of the knots and tangles, then tie it back up into a

ponytail. Last thing I take care of is to apply a light layer of lip gloss to my pink pouty lips. Mom

hates make-up, especially on her daughter. I guess I’m lucky that I can at least get away with the lip

gloss as long as it’s not too dark. I honestly think that my mom was a prude when she was younger.

Sometimes I even wonder how Dad deals with her sometimes. Oh well, I better get back downstairs

before she sends the calvary after me.

As I step back outside on the veranda, I quickly notice a tall, curvy brunette just sitting down with

my mother.

“Ah, there she is,” proclaims my mother. “Ms. McCaffrey, I’d like to introduce my daughter,

Annabelle, who will be available to assist you and be the go-between on the eve of the party,” says

my mother in her motherly tone.

“Please, call me Sonja,” she says, shaking my hand.

I nod. “Nice to meet you as well.” I turn to my mother. “What do you mean by go-between? What

will you be doing?” I ask, my annoyance quickly increasing.

She waves her arms out wide. “Why, being the hostess of course. Welcoming our guests and

mingling with them and, of course, making sure that the food and drinks never run out.”

“That’s one thing my staff is extremely good at, actually,” Sonja pipes up. “Speaking of, I should

inform you that I will not be here on the evening of the bash…”

“What! Then who’s going to make sure everything runs smoothly?” shrills my mother.

“Mrs. Watts, my co-owner Wyatt, who also happens to be my brother, will be here in my absence.

He was actually the one you spoke with on the phone,” she replies calmly.

My mother nods. “Oh, well then I guess that will be all right. I remember him being very pleasant
on the phone.”

“Yes, ma’am. My brother is very professional. I trust him completely.”

My mother and I both nod, then continue to listen as Sonja goes through some ideas and

suggestions for the party.

ABOUT AN HOUR LATER, after going through decorations, menu ideas, possible DJs, and activity

ideas including a haunted house, face painting for the children, pumpkin carving, hayrides, et cetera, I

follow my mother and Sonja on a tour of our farm. The first stop is the barn.

“Wow! This will be perfect for the haunted house—or barn, in this case. We can keep it friendly

enough for children if you’d like?”

Mother nods. “Yes please. That would be preferable.”

“Understood. That won’t be a problem. Now, did I hear right when I heard that there’s a maze

here on the farm?”

I nod, smiling. “Yes, there is. My dad, two younger brothers, and I built it about a year ago.”

“Excellent! That alone will add so much more oomph to this party. People of all ages loves a

good maze. Can you show it to me please?”

The rest of the meeting is spent in and around what my family calls the “Pumpkin Patch Maze.”

Mom has me lead Sonja through it once so she can see what it entails and looks like on the inside.

“Wow, Annabelle. This is absolutely thrilling. It brings back memories of when I was a kid.”

I grin. “I’m glad. That’s why my dad wanted to build it. I remember when he would say ‘build it

and they will come’ during construction. Turns out, he was right. People have been stopping by for the

maze alone ever since.”

After we depart from the maze, Sonja gathers everything she had brought with her, then I escort

her back to her car.

“It was lovely to meet you. Please let your mom know that I’ll be in touch and I’ll fill Wyatt in on
all of the decisions that have been made,” she says, getting into her car. “Take care.”

I smile and wave in return. “Drive safe.” After I can no longer see any hint of her car, I make my

way back to the farmhouse, interested in finding out what happens next to the couple in the story that

I’m reading.

CHAPTER THREE

WYATT

TWO EXTREMELY HECTIC WEEKS LATER, my team and I show up early in the morning on the

day of our Halloween gig to the company’s warehouse to finish packing everything we need in the

trucks before we head out to the farm.

After everything has been triple checked on my master list, I climb into the passenger seat of the

company truck, beyond ready to get this show on the road.

“You ready for this, boss?” asks Jim, one of our employees that has stuck with us since the very

beginning.

I grimace. “Do you want the truth or a lie?”

He quietly chuckles as he starts the engine and pulls out from the loading dock. Being a long-time

employee and a good friend, he’s already aware of my ongoing issue with being in crowded, public

places.

“You’ve got a great team. Besides, we’ve got this, and if at some point you need some space, just

let me know. I can keep an eye on things. That’s what your sister normally does when she needs a

break,” he says, smiling.

“Thanks, Jim. I really appreciate that.”

“Oh, and don’t forget to enjoy yourself as well. If you don’t, you’ll find that you’ll tire out much

more quickly.”

I nod. “Thanks for the advice,” I say as my cell rings with my sister’s dedicated ringtone. “Sorry,
I’ve got to take this,” I say to him, then answer the call. “Morning, sis. Are you checking up on me?”

“What? Me? Now why would I do that?” she asks in a fake innocent tone.

I sigh loudly. “Even when you’re off, you’re still working.”

“I just wanted to check in with you before you get too busy. Don’t worry about the gig. You’ll do

great, Wyatt; I know you will. Besides, you have the greatest team working with you,” she says

proudly.

“I know I do. Anyway, I better cut this short. We’re almost at our destination.”

“All right, good luck. I’ll talk with you later,” she says before disconnecting our call.

Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly, trying to relax for the rest of the ride to the Watts Farm

before the whirlwind begins.

SOME TIME LATER, my team and I are just unloading everything off of the truck by the barn when I

notice two women walking slowly toward us from the farmhouse. My guess is that the older woman is

Mrs. Watts, which must make the younger woman—who by the way is an absolute dream—her

daughter or at least somehow related to her. They look quite similar, especially in the face.

“Good morning, you must be Mr. McCaffrey,” the older female says politely, holding out her hand.

“I am. It’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Watts.” I glance behind me at my team. “My team and I

are ready to get things started on setting up if that’s good with you?”

She nods. “Of course, this won’t take long, then I’ll be out of your way. I just wanted to introduce

you to my daughter Annabelle. She’ll be the go-between as Sonja and I have already discussed.

Anything you need today and during the party, she’ll be here to help.”

I can’t believe my luck. I have the opportunity to spend some time and get to know this lovely,

curvy, tempting female named Annabelle, which happens to be of French origin meaning “beauty.”

She certainly is beautiful. With long flowing light brown hair with blond highlights, emerald-green

eyes surrounded by the longest eyelashes that I’ve ever seen. Plus, she has natural pink pouty lips.
Simply put, she has the face of an angel. I can’t help but grin.

“You okay, Wyatt?” says Jim, slapping me on my back.

“Huh?” I glance around me, instantly realizing that Annabelle is no longer in my vicinity. “Wait!

Where did she go? She better not have just been a dream.”

“Who?” he questions.

“Annabelle,” I say gruffly.

“Oh, you mean the Watts’ daughter. She’s just in the barn showing some of our crew around so

they can get a move on creating the haunted house.” He eyes me suspiciously. “What’s with you

anyway? As soon as you were introduced to their daughter, your view was trained on her to the point

of staring, and we couldn’t even get your attention till after she left.”

I shrug my shoulders. “Nothing’s up with me. I just need to know her whereabouts in case I need

to speak with her,” I lie.

He winks and sends me a knowing smirk. “Sure, boss, you just keep telling yourself that. Anyway,

I’ll send Cathy and Kimmy over to begin setting up the refreshment stand for the caterer.”

I nod. “Sounds good. Then I’d like you to set up the games area while I go check on the spot for

the DJ.” He nods back at me as we head in separate directions.

ANNABELLE

Wow! Sonja’s brother Wyatt is smoking hot. With short raven-black hair, hooded charcoal-gray eyes,

a prominent nose, skin so smooth and free of whiskers, and a mouth that I want to experiment with my

own. Man, it’s getting really hot out here.

I enter the barn followed by a few workers from Wyatt’s crew. “This is it,” I say, showing off the

barn. “If you need any help, please let me know.”

“Thank you, miss, but we’ll be fine. We have plans with us.”

“Okay. I’ll probably be around the house then,” I reply, then vacate the barn to head back to the
house.

When I finally reach the veranda, I’m a little surprised and giddy to find Wyatt bent over putting

together a table, thus giving me a clear view of his tight end, and what a glorious tight end it is. I can’t

help but sigh happily and innocently let out a tiny giggle which causes him to immediately seize up.

He slowly stands, turns in my direction, then exhales an immense breath. “Oh, Annabelle, it’s you.

I was so wrapped up in what I was doing, I didn’t even hear you come up here.”

“Your crew doesn’t seem to need my help, so I’m heading in…” I pause for a moment to glance

into his hypnotic eyes. “Unless you have anything that I can do to help.”

I swear I hear him let out a slight groan. “Thank you so much for offering, but for now we’re

good. I’m just setting up the DJ station now, then I’ll continue with the speakers.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll check later on with you this afternoon. Take care.” I smile, then head indoors and

make a beeline straight up to my room to write in my diary about this special guy that has just come

into my life.

CHAPTER FOUR

WYATT

WOW! My sister was right. Our crew is amazing. All of the stations, games, and children’s area are

just about ready and there’s still time to double check everything before we break for dinner. I’m just

about to call Mrs. Watts when the whole family exits their house with their eyes wide and full of

surprise.

“Oh my goodness. This is absolutely enchanting. I love it,” says Mrs. Watts as she turns to her

husband. “Dear, what do you think?”

He nods, smiling. From what I’ve gathered from my time with Annabelle, Mr. Watts is a caring

man of few words and a wonderful husband and father.

“It’s awesome!” shout the boys in unison.

My eyes zoom in on Annabelle’s face, really needing to know how she feels about the setup. In

answer to my question, the biggest grin I’ve ever seen has taken over her face. She looks absolutely

radiant when she’s joyful. I quickly decide that from this moment on, I want to be responsible for

making her smile and happy in every part of her life. That’s if she’ll have me, of course.

“So, is everyone ready to check out the refreshments?” I ask, then direct them to the refreshment

stand where the local caterer we hired is just putting the finishing touches on the selection of

appetizers that are being offered this evening.

“Ah, welcome. We have prepared quite a selection of sumptuous goodies as well as various kid-

friendly fare for this evening’s gathering. Care to sample?” offers the chef.

We each pick up an item off of the tray and deposit it into our mouths. I try the mini mummy, which

is a cocktail frank wrapped up in pastry. Then I try an apple cheddar bite, which is delicious. The

chef and his team have certainly outdone themselves.

“Mmm, Wyatt, you’ve got to try this,” moans Annabelle. “It’s a caramel apple brie bite. Reminds

me of a caramel apple. So yummy.”

I try one as well, and wow, Annabelle’s right. It does remind me of a caramel apple. “Chef,

excellent job. This one’s my favorite.”

He bows. “Thank you for all your kind words. I’m beyond thrilled that my food is being enjoyed.

Now, I imagine something to quench your thirst may be required. My bartender in the next stand has

some virgin cocktails and punch for you to try.”

With that said, we continue on to the next booth. “Hi, I’m Cheri. Would you like to try our Monster

Mash Punch or our Bloody Vamp Cocktail, which by the way are both virgin? We also have water and

apple-cranberry juice available.”

“The first two for me please,” I reply. I take a sip of the punch, and wow, it’s really good. Fruity

with extra fizz. Then I try the cocktail, which is quite interesting. It reminds me of a Shirley Temple,
which I used to have sometimes when I was a kid. “Mmm, they’re both really good, but I think the

Monster Mash punch is my favorite.” The bartender nods.

“You too, huh?” says Annabelle as she steps up toward me.

“Pardon?” I ask.

She giggles. “The drinks, my favorite is the punch as well. We seem to have similar tastes, at least

in food and beverages anyway.”

I grin. “To say the least.” I then turn around, realizing that the rest of the Watts family is no longer

with us. “Where did your family go?”

“They decided to go get changed into their costumes before the party starts,” she says.

I sigh. “I’m not really used to doing this part of the business.” I breathe in deep, then let it out very

slowly. “It makes me appreciate my sister even more than I already do, and she does it all the time.

I’m better with the behind-the-scenes area. I’m fine speaking on the phone, on the computer, and even

in the company of a few people, but it’s being in the public that I have trouble with, especially in

crowds.”

“That must be tough sometimes, especially when you’re meeting new people.”

I nod. “Most of the time it can be, but not with you. With you it’s different, it’s like we’re old

friends even though I know today’s the first time we’ve met.”

She grins. “You never know, maybe we knew each other in a past life.”

I chuckle loudly. “Maybe we did.”

ANNABELLE

Fifteen minutes before the party starts, I scurry back into the house and up to my room where I swiftly

pull on my costume. Thank goodness I was able to borrow my best friend Luna’s leather jacket. I

actually wish I could have one of my own, but my mother won’t allow it. In her mind only bikers and

their old ladies wear leather. She obviously doesn’t know many bikers. Luna’s dad just happens to be
the president of the local MC. He also owns the town garage and bike shop. Needless to say, I haven’t

divulged that little tidbit to my mother. The last thing I need is her telling me that I can no longer be

friends with Luna. Even if she tries it, I won’t give Luna up and that’s final.

After I finish getting dressed, I glance into the mirror. I have to admit, even with only wearing lip

gloss, I look pretty damn hot in my matching wine-red bra and panties set, skinny jeans, wine-red

camisole, and of course, Luna’s leather jacket as well as my good pair of sunglasses and my hair

down. The best part is, Mom can’t get mad at me since what I’m wearing is my costume. Bonus.

I’m just heading out of the house when I notice Wyatt speaking with my mother quietly before she

heads over to the beginning of the path that leads to the parking area to welcome the guests and play

hostess.

“Hi, handsome, how’s it going?” I grin, waving to him, getting his attention.

“Wow! You look incredible!” he breathes.

“Good enough to eat, right?” I sass.

“Mmm, definitely,” he rumbles quietly. “So, are your friends coming tonight?”

I shake my head. “I wish. Luna and her sister are visiting with their maternal grandmother. They

don’t get to visit her very often as she lives on the other side of the country.”

“Hmm, that must suck. What about yourself?”

“Born and raised here. Both of my dad’s parents are gone, but my nana still lives on the other side

of town.”

He nods. “There’s only Sonja and me, though we are still pretty close to our aunt, uncle and

cousin Alex. He has a daughter named Carly. You’d love her.”

“I bet I would,” I concur.

Buzz! Buzz!

“Crap! That’s my alarm. Time to get this party started. Will I see you later on?” he asks.
“You bet.”

CHAPTER FIVE

WYATT

SINCE THE PARTY started a few hours ago, Jim and I’ve been immensely busy dashing between

booths, checking on the DJ, caterer, the rest of my crew, and of course, the Watts family themselves.

By the time it finally reaches eight o’clock, my body is definitely ready for a break. The party is

supposed to go on for another two hours, but it’s time for the young ones to head home with their

parents and get tucked into bed and drift off into dreamland.

I’m just jogging over to the house when I almost collide with Annabelle. “Oh, Wyatt, you startled

me. My mother sent me to find you. She requires your assistance.”

“Of course. I was actually just on my way there,” I say, trying to catch my breath.

When we finally reach Mrs. Watts, she’s surrounded by a ton of excited and joyous trick-or-

treaters. “I’m so happy you were all able to attend. Before you leave, we have loot bags for each of

you.” The children cheer as Annabelle and I bring up waterproof crates to her mother and set them

down. We spend the next ten minutes handing out treat bags to each and every child. After that’s done,

Mrs. Watts heads into the house to rest for a bit while Annabelle and I head back to the festivities.

We find Jim just outside the Haunted Barn where he’s waving at us with his flashlight. “Hey, you

two. You should really try this out, as well as some of the games. Besides, didn’t you say that you

were going to take a break really soon, boss?” he says, winking at me knowingly.

“Yeah, you’re right, I did.” I turn to the incredibly sexy woman dressed in leather who’s standing

right beside me. “Care to join me?”

She grins. “Let’s go.”

Taking her hand in mine, I lead her into the barn, feeling calm and extremely comfortable having

her with me, which makes me want to make this moment last forever.
ANNABELLE

The Haunted Barn was a lot of fun, but what I enjoyed most was the closeness and tender touch of my

hand enveloped in Wyatt’s. It’s actually kind of crazy how close we’ve become in one day. He’s not

like any other man I’ve met before, and I’m a little afraid that if I don’t say something soon, he’ll

leave and I’ll never see him again.

We saunter over to the refreshment stand where they started serving hot apple cider and hot

chocolate not that long ago as the temperature outside is beginning to drop slightly. Wyatt carries our

drinks to a nearby picnic table where we sit down across from one another. Taking a sip of my cider, I

let out a moan of happiness. I love apple cider—anything to do with apples, really. I gaze into his

face, noticing that his eyes are hooded and he’s licking his lips and balling his hands into fists.

“You drive me wild when you do that, you know that?”

I blush slightly. “Really?”

He nods, his breaths short and shallow. “If we were alone, I’d be kissing you right now.”

Yes! “I think I know just the place,” I say, jumping out of my seat. I proceed to drag him to our
Pumpkin Patch Maze as he chuckles.

When we reach our destination, he looks a little hesitant. “Don’t worry, I know this maze inside

and out. My brothers and I were the ones who helped my dad build it.”

His features slowly relax as he allows me to bring him into the maze.

After many twists and turns, we make it to one of the two lit up fountains deep in the maze. We sit

on the bench that surrounds each fountain and stare into each other’s eyes. “Wyatt, I need to tell you

something important. I know we just met earlier today, but I feel like I’ve already known you for a

while now.”

He nods as he gingerly caresses my hands with his own. “I feel the same way. It’s uncanny,

really.”

We stay in that position for what must only be a few minutes before he finally decides to seize the
moment by cupping my cheek, guiding my needy mouth towards his own. As our lips finally touch,

fireworks go off inside of me, igniting my soul. It’s an incredible feeling for sure. When he tries to

pull away, I pull him back in and lock my hands around his neck, as if showing him that I’m not ready

to stop quite yet. He just chuckles as he moves his mouth to my neck, depositing kisses and licks to my

skin over and over again. I moan loudly, causing him to cover my mouth with his once again to

swallow the sounds.

When we finally part, we’re both trying to catch our breath. “That was incredible. I’ve never felt

pure passion like yours before. It’s addicting,” he says, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

I smile back. “I know what you mean,” I reply slowly. “It feels like we’re connecting on a deeper

level. Much more than something just physical.”

We continue to kiss and enjoy each other until his phone begins to vibrate. He huffs. “I’m sorry,

but I have to take this,” he says, then answers his phone. “Hello?”

I get up off the bench and wander around, unable to stop touching my lips where Wyatt’s were just

a few minutes ago.

“Okay, I’ll be right there.” He hangs up, then joins me.

“Your break’s over isn’t it?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

He just nods. I take his hand in mine and lead him out of the maze so he can get back to work

while I decide it’s time to go find my brothers and find out what they’ve been up to this evening.

CHAPTER SIX

WYATT

I CAN’T BELIEVE that I made it through the entire gig without having a meltdown. Deep down

inside I’m sure that it has something to do with Annabelle. She’s simply amazing and I don’t want to

lose her.

My team, all-stars that they are, have everything taken down and packed up in the truck in about an
hour. I’m just double checking the grounds to make sure everything has been cleaned up and

reorganized when I see my angel in leather picking up garbage with her brothers with flashlights.

“Hey, guys. So, what did you think of the party?”

“It was cool,” say the boys in unison.

“I’m glad. What about you, Annabelle?” I ask, walking toward her.

She blushes. “It was fun. Plus, I was able to wear leather in front of my mother, which normally I

can never do without her telling me to take it off.”

That makes me chuckle slightly. I also begin to wonder what’s been going on between her and her

mother. It’s none of my business, but I wish I could help.

“Boys, do you mind giving me some time with Mr. McCaffrey? We can clean up the rest tomorrow

morning,” she says, hope shining in her eyes.

After saying goodnight, her brothers head into the farmhouse, leaving just the two of us.

Pulling her into my embrace, I kiss her lightly on her kissable lips. “I wish I didn’t have to leave.”

“Me too,” she replies quietly.

“Can I see you again? Like for a date?”

She smirks. “Mr. McCaffrey, are you asking me out?”

I grin. “Yes. Annabelle, would you like to go out with me sometime?”

“You bet.” She beams brightly, then gives me a goodnight kiss that I never want to end.

Before I leave her, we quickly exchange numbers and promise to call one another the next day.

When my crew and I drive out of the lot, I notice that she’s waving to me before she heads back into

her house for the rest of the night.

ANNABELLE

I’ve just entered my bedroom and I’m starting to change into my nightgown when there’s a knock on

my door. “Who is it?”

“Your parents. Annabelle, we need to speak with you. It’s important,” says my mother through the

door.

I huff loudly. Here we go. “Just a moment please,” I call back as I finish pulling on my nightgown

and climb into bed. “I’m decent.”

Both my mother and dad step inside quietly, then close the door behind them.

“Honey, your mother and I would like to speak with you about Mr. McCaffrey and how much time

you’ve spent with him today,” says Dad in his fatherly tone.

I look at them, confused. “What do you mean? I did exactly what Mom asked me to do, I was the

go-between.”

She sits up straight. “I didn’t ask you to make out with the man, Annabelle.”

“Oh, I get it now. You’re angry because I kissed someone and am hopefully starting something

special with that person,” I say impatiently, directly at my mother.

“Oh no, you’re not. I forbid it,” she says in a very upset tone.

I can’t believe she’s going there. “Mom, you can’t forbid me. I’m twenty years old. Besides, if

you’re worried about my virginity, don’t. I lost it a year ago.”

“WHAT!” she gasps, shrilling. “You weren’t forced into it, were you?”

What is she talking about? “No, I wasn’t forced. It was my choice. Now, what’s going on?”

My dad lays his hand on my mother’s shoulder and looks into her face intently. “Dear, you have to

tell her,” he says in a very caring tone.

“Tell me what?”

She sits down on my bed and takes a deep breath. “When I was around your age, I wore make-up,

short skirts, tank tops that would show my midriff, and other clothes that would show me off. I liked

it, it made me feel feminine and sexy.”

“Okay…so what changed?” I ask.

She stammers until my father once again lays his hand upon her shoulder, giving her comfort.

“One night after I finished my shift at the diner, I was supposed to meet some friends at a club, so

I changed out of my uniform before I left work.”

I nod, suddenly having a bad feeling where this story is going.

She takes another deep breath. “After every single shift, I would walk down the alley behind the

diner. I didn’t even think about it. Until that one night. Let’s just say, I never made it to the club that

night. For the next week I was in the hospital and in therapy for three months.”

“Oh my God! Mom, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe you had to go through that,” I say with sympathy,

taking her hand in mine.

She nods, a few tears springing from her eyes. “I guess because of what happened to me, that’s

why I’ve been so controlling of what you wear and how you act. I didn’t want it to happen to you

too,” she says finally letting the tears fall freely.

We embrace each other in a tight hug, and I finally understand that my mom has always cared and

loved me. She was just trying to protect me as much as she could. After our hug, I notice that Dad has

already vacated my room, most likely to give us some time together, just us girls.

“So, Mom, about Wyatt and me…” I begin.

She sighs, then looks into my eyes. “You really like him, don’t you?”

I smile and nod eagerly. “I really do. It might sound odd, but it feels like we have this deep

connection between the two of us.”

She smiles. “That’s not odd at all. Something similar happened between your father and I when

we first met. I can still remember it like it was yesterday. We actually met here at the farm while I

was home for a visit from college. My parents and I were here picking up some vegetables to get

ready for the winter months. He was working hard doing chores in the barn while I just watched him.”

“Let me guess, you two started dating right away?”

“Actually, no. I turned him down the first two times he asked. I was still scared of being intimate

with a man. The next time he asked, I told him what happened to me, and he surprised me by saying

that he really liked me and that he was willing to wait till whenever I was ready and comfortable to

begin something with him. Three months later, we became a couple.”

“Wow! That’s amazing. I’m glad that you and Dad found each other.”

She smiles. “Me too. Now, regarding you and Mr.—ah, I mean, Wyatt.”

“Yes?” I ask cautiously.

“He seems to be a good man. Your father and I would like to get to know him better,” she says

with a wink.

I shriek happily as I hug her tighter. “Thanks, Mom. Now what about wearing more make-up and

you buying me a leather jacket?” I ask, winking.

She laughs, getting off my bed. “Nice try, now get some sleep. Oh, and when you call Wyatt

tomorrow, invite him and Sonja over for a family dinner,” she says, stepping toward the door.

“Yes, Mom.” After she leaves, I pull out my book and read a few chapters, imagining that it’s

Wyatt and me in the story ravaging each other passionately before I fall asleep.

CHAPTER SEVEN

WYATT

I’M JUST WALKING into my office with my third cup of coffee this morning when I notice that my

sister is already seated on my couch with a bottle of water in her hand. “Morning, sis.”

“Morning. So, how was last night’s event?” she asks professionally.

“Good. It was well received, and you were right. Our team is amazing.”

She nods knowingly. “So, does this mean that you’re willing to do more for me if I need you?”

“We’ll see,” I say with a chuckle as my cell begins to ring. I glance at it, seeing that it’s Annabelle

calling me. “Anyway, sis, we’ll have to cut this short. I have to take this call.”
“Of course. Say hi to Annabelle for me,” she says as she leaves my office.

“Hey, beautiful. It’s great to hear from you,” I say, grinning wide.

“Hi, handsome. I’m calling to say hi and to invite you over for family dinner. Mom and Dad

already know that we want to start dating and they wish to get to know you more. Sonja’s also

invited.”

“Sounds wonderful. When?”

“How about a week from Sunday?” she proposes.

“Done. I’ll mark it on my calendar. I’ll let you know soon if my sister can make it or not.” I pause

a moment. “Now, about our first date. How about I take you out to dinner tomorrow evening?”

She giggles. “I can’t wait.”

Once we hash out the details, we say goodbye, then hang up. What an amazing turn of events my

life has taken.

ONE WEEK Later

Three fantastic dates later, it’s finally time for Sunday dinner with Annabelle’s family. I’ve just

arrived at the farmhouse and am stepping onto the veranda when the front door swings open and my

gorgeous girlfriend flies into my arms, kissing me.

“Now that’s my new favorite way of saying hello to you,” I say, breaking the kiss so I can take a

breath.

“Annabelle, let the poor man come in and take a load off. You two can continue kissing later,”

says her mother, causing her dad, brothers, and I to laugh out loud.

“Mother!” she shrills.

Mrs. Watts smirks. “What! Are you telling me that you’re not planning on kissing him anymore

tonight?”

My frustrated lady groans. “Can we please stop talking about Wyatt and I kissing, please?” That
makes everyone laugh again.

After we all have our fun, I give Mrs. Watts the bouquet of flowers and bottle of white wine I

brought with me.

“Oh, this is lovely. Thank you, Wyatt.”

“You’re welcome, ma’am. Again, thank you for inviting me this evening. I really appreciate it,” I

say honestly.

“It’s no trouble at all, I assure you,” she says as she heads to the kitchen to grab a vase.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” Annabelle says as she wraps her arms around me and holds me

tight.

“Only for you,” I murmur into her neck.

“All right, dinner is served. Come and get it,” proclaims Mrs. Watts.

SOME TIME LATER, after a full belly, good laughs, and great company, Annabelle and I head

outside with a thermos filled with hot apple cider, and a few warm comfy blankets.

“We’re almost there,” she announces excitedly.

“Where?”

“Where we first kissed, silly. The maze. It’s also the perfect place for us to spend some time

alone together again.” She winks.

“Mmm, I like how you think,” I rasp.

When we finally reach one of the fountains, she looks around the area, then lays the blankets on

the ground. Once everything is ready, she lays back on the makeshift bed with her elbows supporting

her, sending me a come-hither look. Grinning, I lie down beside her, looking deep into her eyes with

pent-up desire. “Are you sure you want to do this? I can wait as long as it takes.”

She rolls over and straddles my body. “I want this, Wyatt. I want your thick cock inside my tight

pussy, and I want it now.” She moans, which makes my cock grow harder than I ever thought it could.
To stop myself from losing it in my pants way too quickly, I roll us back over so that I’m the one

on top before I lower my head enough to claim her lips with my own in a passionate and possessive

kiss. It’s so intense that I can’t help but moan as she returns my kisses, then begins to nibble at my

bottom lip. A few moments later she gasps as I thread my fingers through her hair and down her neck,

which allows me to swipe my tongue inside her mouth and play with her own. When we finally pull

apart, gasping, I decide it’s time to reveal the truth that I’ve been keeping to myself. “Before this goes

any further, I need to tell you something, my leather angel.”

She pauses with concern. “Wyatt, what is it?”

“I’m a virgin,” I say slowly and clearly.

She looks back at me, wide-eyed, then begins to giggle. “You can’t be a virgin.”

I turn my head slightly. “Why not?”

She looks at me in disbelief. “Have you seen yourself?”

I chuckle. “All my life I’ve been socially awkward and I get irritated easily with people I don’t

really know. Besides, when I lose my virginity, I want it to be with the woman I’m falling in love

with.” Everything around us goes silent.

“Wait! You’re falling in love with me?” she whispers quietly.

I simply nod, then capture her lips once again for a heated kiss as we start to tear off each other’s

clothing as quickly as we can, only leaving on my boxers and her matching bra and panties. We then

lie down on the blankets before I cover us with the warm comforter that I helped carry out here.

For a few tense moments, I just stare into her enchanting eyes, taking in all of her beauty. I can

already feel that she is definitely the one for me, and it startles me for just a moment.

“Wyatt, are you all right?” she asks me with care.

I lay a sweet kiss upon her lips. “I’m fine. I guess I’m just a little nervous about what’s about to

happen between us,” I reply honestly.

She moves to a sitting position. “I might have an idea to help you relax a little.” She smirks as she

straddles my legs and swiftly removes my boxers, leaving my manhood totally visible for her viewing

pleasure. What she does next nearly blows my mind. She grasps my cock at the base then begins to

lick and suck the tip continuously before engulfing the full length into her mouth and throat. In what

seems like only seconds, I swear I’m seeing stars and it feels absolutely incredible. I can’t stop the

curses and moans coming out of my mouth either. “Shit! That feels so good. I think I’m gonna blow.”

Moments later, I yell out her name as my release flows down her throat. “Fuck! Annabelle!”

CHAPTER EIGHT

ANNABELLE

MOMENTS after he succumbs to ultimate pleasure, I lie back down beside him and stare into his

smiling face as I run my hands all over his panty-melting body. “How do you feel now?”

He grins back at me. “Absolutely incredible, and I think I’m ready for more,” he says gruffly as he

repositions himself on top of me, caging me in before he leans down and captures my lips in a slow,

agonizing, romantic kiss as his hands roam my body as well. He then begins to trail kisses down my

neck, shoulders, and chest, pausing on each spot to explore and learn what I like and what drives my

body wild with pleasure. As he continues to suck and nibble on my breasts as I moan, his hand travels

downward toward my needy and wanton pussy.

When he reaches my core, he slides his curious fingers up and down my slit and then finally dips

two of his digits in and out of my hole till I can no longer think straight. Next thing I know, he releases

my breasts, letting the cooling air reach my nipples while he latches onto my clit with his succulent

lips and begins to nibble and suck which sends me right over the edge in no time.

“WYATT!” I scream in absolute bliss.

I’m just starting to come down from my orgasm when I hear a package ripping and see him

sheathing himself in a condom, then he lines himself up with my entrance. “I’ll try to go slow. I don’t
want to hurt you.”

I pull his face towards my own. “You won’t hurt me. We’re in this together.”

He nods, then begins to push his length deep inside my pussy at an excruciatingly slow pace.

Once he’s fully seated inside of me, I wiggle my hips to urge him on. “Wyatt, take me. I’m all

yours.”

He begins to move his cock back and forth within me, causing us both to gasp, writhe, and moan

in pleasure. Our lovemaking is passionate, animalistic, and utterly mind-blowing, and I know that he

won’t last very long, so I tweak my nipples hard to get me closer to orgasm once again. Moments

later, we scream out our release as we come apart together as one.

“Wow! That was…you know what I mean?” he asks, grinning at me as he pulls me against his

chest.

I nod, enjoying the euphoric bliss we’re in. “I think I’m falling in love with you too, Wyatt.” He

grins as he kisses me, then makes sure that we’re all covered up before we both fall asleep in one

another’s arms deep within the Pumpkin Patch Maze.

EPILOGUE

Wyatt

ONE YEAR Later

It’s been one year since my leather angel and I made love for the first time, and every time since

then has been just as magical, if not better.

“Wyatt! Dad! Time for dinner,” calls my soon-to-be fiancée as she retreats back into her parents

house to assist her mother. I’m happy to say that since the Halloween bash last year, she and her mom

have become a lot closer over time. If the love of my life is happy, then I’m happy too.

When her dad and I finally reach the kitchen, the rest of her family is already seated at the table,

including Sonja. After I wash my hands, I take my seat between my sister and Annabelle.
“What were you and my dad talking about out there?” she asks.

I grin. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

After a lovely fulfilling dinner, I stand up, asking for everyone’s attention. “First of all, I’d like to

thank you all for allowing my sister and me to join you.” I turn, facing my girl. “Second, I have a

question to ask you, Annabelle,” I begin, dropping to one knee.

She gasps, as well as her mom and my sister in tandem.

“Ever since that day I met you, I knew we had something special that wouldn’t break. Today I’m

here on bended knee asking you to be my other half in marriage and in life. Annabelle, will you marry

me?”

“Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you,” she cries happily.

For the next hour, we celebrate with her family, then just the two of us head outside to the same

spot where we made love one year ago to make love again and to toast to the beginning of our new

life together.

THE END

Want more? Check out Alex’s story, Romancing the Girl Dad.
HALLOWEEN STEAM SERIES!

This October, twenty-four of your favorite contemporary romance authors are bringing you a month

filled with sexy-spooky Halloween steam. Get ready for over-the-top love stories sure to set your

spine — and other parts *wink* — tingling. Brew some cider, grab your favorite blanket, and snuggle

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Check out the rest of the Series: My Book

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Andrea Marie is a Canadian Mom who writes short, sweet, and steamy stories about hot hard-
working Alpha men be it Humans,

Shifters, or other Paranormal.

Feel Free to follow me and check out my other books:

Amazon:

https://www.amazon.com/Andrea-Marie/e/B08FRW3CH9/

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Home | Andrea Marie (wixsite.com)

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I would like to thank everyone that has had a part to do with this book. Especially, to my Husband and

two boys. To my family, and close friends. To my fellow authors in the Halloween Steam Series, and

the Writing Instalove Group who help each other daily. Also, to my beta readers, Lyz Neilson, Julie

JA Lafrance, and the rest of the team. Thank you for everything that you have done. Finally, to

everyone, that decides to take a chance and reads my book.

THANK YOU!
Document Outline
Title Page
Copyright
Contents
1. Wyatt
2. Annabelle
3. Wyatt
Annabelle
4. Wyatt
Annabelle
5. Wyatt
Annabelle
6. Wyatt
Annabelle
7. Wyatt
8. Annabelle
Epilogue
Halloween Steam Series!
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
 Humperdinck—The Fairy Tale Man—Germany

Outside of the operas of Richard Strauss, of which we have written

elsewhere, there have been few outstanding opera writers in
Germany since Wagner. Among those are Ludwig Thuille (1861–
1907), whose Lobetanz was given at the Metropolitan Opera House
in 1911; Eugene d’Albert (1864), who has lived in Germany most of
his life, although he was born in Scotland, and wrote the lovely
Tiefland which was performed in America; Max Schillings (1868),
whose Mona Lisa was performed at the Metropolitan; Hans Pfitzner
(1869), who wrote an operatic legend based on Palestrina; Siegfried
Wagner (1869), son of Richard; and Leo Blech (1871).
The one great exception was Engelbert Humperdinck (1854–1921),
born in Bonn, Beethoven’s birthplace. He is perhaps closer to the
hearts of children than any one else who ever wrote music. This
seems much to say, but when you hear that it was he who wrote that
beautiful little fairy story Hansel and Gretel, we are sure you will
agree. The San Carlo Opera Company has given special performances
of it in English. Would it not be nice if operas were given in the
language you best understand? You would then find out for
yourselves that this is the story of Babes in the Woods. How fine it
would have been too, if you had been able to hear in your own
language the other opera written by Humperdinck! This was
Koenigskinder (Children of the King), which gave one of the loveliest
rôles to Geraldine Farrar, and brought a large flock of real geese on
the stage to take part in the performance. The other name of the
opera is The Goose-Girl, which explains the presence of the geese.
Geraldine Farrar always brought one or two with her when she
acknowledged the applause and there was always an awful squawk!
In this opera too, there is a horrid old Witch. Humperdinck found joy
and inspiration in the folk music of Germany, much of which deals
with fairies, elves, witches and inhabitants of the world of
imagination.
Humperdinck was a great musician and he had the honor of being
asked to prepare the score of Parsifal for the publishers.
 Because of the beauties of his melodies, the lovely subjects he
selected and his sympathy with the finer and higher things of life, it
is a pity that Humperdinck left so few works.
He was attracted to the theatre and wrote much music as theatre
music for plays. This is called incidental music, that is, it is incidental
and the play’s the thing! Just before he died Humperdinck wrote the
incidental music for the Miracle which is a great spectacle in
pantomime. This means that there is no speaking, only tableaux and
acting. He did not live to finish it, but it was completed by his son,
for the production made by Max Reinhardt.
 CHAPTER XXVII
Some Tone Poets

Probably you think that any music on a program is program music!

Of course it is, but not in the special use of the word, for when it is
program music, it has a story of its own and has to be described in
more or less detail so that the audience can understand what it is
about. Therefore, we find two classes of music—absolute music,
which needs no story to explain it, and—program music, which does.
Beethoven’s best works are known by their opus number while most
of Schumann’s have descriptive titles. Early composers sometimes
wrote music describing or imitating something, like Daquin’s
Cuckoo, Jannequin’s Battle of Marignan, The Carman’s Whistle, etc.
These pieces were program music in a way, but the modern tone
poets went further by writing music with rather extended stories and
with music not as simple as it used to be, but nevertheless an
outgrowth of ballad form, sonata and the symphony.
Suppose you wanted to write a tone poem! First you must have a
subject and then you must write music to explain it. Let us say you
were going to write a Subway Tone Poem, your program notes might
read something like this: The hero rushes away from his office, into
the hurrying, scurrying street, down the slippery, crowded subway
steps, and when he reaches the noisy turnstile slips in his fare and
meets his young lady. He leads her through the crowd, protecting her
from the jostling mob. Then they enter the train and above the noise
and bustle they cast sweet glances at each other and converse. The
train stops occasionally and finally they get off at their station. They
walk to her home, along an empty side street where it is quiet and
charming. He doffs his cap and we leave them, both thinking lovely
things about each other.
Don’t you think you’re ready now to write a tone poem?
 Berlioz, Innovator

Up to Hector Berlioz’ time (1803–1869), there was no definite

attempt to write a tone poem with an elaborate story. This man, one
of the most complicated in musical history, did much to help music
and future musicians, for he started to tell stories in music without
scenery or dialogues.
He was born near Lyons, France, the son of a doctor who wanted
him to study medicine, but as he almost fainted several times in the
dissecting room, he gave it up. This was his first rebellion and all his
life he struggled against nearly everything that existed. His was a
noble discontent in many ways, for he believed deeply in his own
ideas and suffered much putting them into practice. He lived shortly
after the French Revolution when everything was topsy-turvy. Many
of the old things that people had looked upon with reverence had
vanished and he tried, as other young men of his day, to forge new
ideas according to his sense of right.
One day he saw some musical score paper and realized in a
moment, what wonderful things might be done with it and
exclaimed: “What an orchestral work one might write on that!” and
quite suddenly, he decided to write music! He could only play the
guitar, the flute and the flageolet and knew practically nothing of
harmony. He certainly paid well for his decision, for he had a hard
struggle with himself and circumstances.
He took one of his compositions to Professor Lesueur at the Paris
Conservatory, and was admitted.
 Berlioz Versus Cherubini

Cherubini, Director of the Conservatory, made a rule that men and

women should use separate doors leading into the library. Not
knowing this rule, Berlioz entered by the door reserved for the
women and sat down to read a score of his beloved Gluck. Cherubini,
thin, pale-faced, with tousled hair and fiercely shining eyes, came up
to Hector and reprimanded him for breaking the rule. They had a
noisy fight, chasing in and out among the desks and when Berlioz
reached the door, he looked back at Cherubini and called out: “I am
soon coming back to study Gluck again.” Being a determined boy, he
did come back, but Cherubini, on whom his future depended, was his
staunch enemy for life.
His parents were infuriated with Hector for his conduct in and out
of school. His mother, a pious woman, practically disowned him and
his father gave him but a small allowance with the stipulation that
unless he could soon prove his ability in music, he should have to go
back to medicine. So he tried desperately to earn money, by singing
in choruses, playing the flute and teaching, hoping that he could win
the Prix de Rome, which would give him a few years in Rome and
three thousand francs. After terrific opposition by Cherubini and
held back, too, by his own lack of diplomacy, either by submitting
works that were written too poorly or too well, he lost many chances
for the prize and finally, after four attempts, he won the coveted
award with his cantata Sardanapalus. The amusing thing about this
is, that he left out the parts then looked upon as modern, and
difficult, which would have lost him the prize, but the first time it
was played in public, he put them all in, and the piece was successful.
Then he fell in love, and after much posing and strutting about and
foolish behavior, he married the young Irish actress, Harriet
Smithson. They were very unhappy and unfortunate, but he was
good to her and even gave up composing to earn a living by writing,
and he proved an exceptionally gifted writer and critic.
His autobiography, too, is most interesting for he sees himself as a
romantic hero and tells the tale with great dramatic energy and
exaggeration.
 With Intent to Murder!

At one time he was engaged to another woman who was unkind to

him and he wrote: “Two tears of rage started from my eyes and my
mind was made up on the spot to kill without mercy.” But being
impetuous and quick tempered, he never reached the scene of
murder, for, when about to sail to where she was, he either fell or
jumped into the water, which very much dampened his ardor for
killing.
One night, Chopin and Schumann followed him because he had
threatened to kill himself. But, at the crucial moment Berlioz
changed his mind!
Life for Berlioz was a drama in which he was the leading man, and
he watched his own performance, as if he were a part of the
audience. He craved novelty at every turn. He was sensitive, high-
strung and vain, and yet withal, he had the dignity of being loyal to
his beliefs in himself, and did not want to deceive anybody. He wrote
with humor, brilliancy and understanding, he had faith in his work,
and was sufficiently heroic to stick to his course whatever the cost.
He was a martyr, for he suffered in order to do what he wished in
music, and was never appreciated.
Although he went to England, Germany, Austria and Russia, and
was very successful, Paris, only, interested him. In 1863, his opera
The Trojans in Carthage failed and in 1868, he died, a broken-
hearted man.
 Berlioz’s Contribution to Music

It seems strange, but Berlioz disliked Bach and Palestrina and

worshiped Beethoven, Gluck and Weber. He was jealous of Wagner
and did everything he could to make Tannhäuser a failure in Paris.
Berlioz invented new ways, as do our Jazz Bands today, to make
the instruments produce different sounds. He put bags over the
horns, hung up the cymbals and had them struck with sticks instead
of clapping them together, dressed up the drumsticks in sponges,
and was much pleased at the effect made when a trombone played a
duet with a piccolo. He made propaganda for new instruments
especially for the horn, invented by Adolphe Saxe, which was called
Sax Horn, and from which descended the Saxophone, so behold
Berlioz, the founder of the Jazz Band!
Where other composers would use four trombones or one, he used
sixteen! In his Requiem for example, he used sixteen trombones,
twelve ophicleides (cornets with extra levers or keys), eight pairs of
kettle drums, two bass drums, a gong and of course, all the regular
string and reed instruments. He boasted after the first performance,
that a man had a fit from the excessive noise!
 The Intimate Friend of Instruments

He wrote the sort of melody that showed off each particular

instrument to its best advantage. He studied them as if they were
human beings, and he understood their characters and
temperaments, what they could do and at what they would balk. He
showed the possibilities of the choirs of wood wind instruments, a
rich heritage for us today. The orchestra playing a piece of his,
directed by him was matchless in its effect. Effect was the keynote of
his writings. As the first great master of tonal effect, he is
unsurpassed, and his book on orchestration is still one of the most
practical text books on the subject.
Berlioz used the idée fixe (fixed idea) or leit-motif, not as Wagner
used it later, but quite definitely, twisting a theme in many ways to
bring out different phases of the same subject. Thus, Berlioz founded
the dramatic in music, without scenery and without words, which is
the Symphonic Tone Poem.
The majority of the people did not understand him any more than
they understand Stravinsky today. His greatest work was his
Symphony Fantastic written in 1829, in which he used the idée fixe
to tell about the life of the artist, in true program music style for
which he fought and almost bled. In Harold in Italy, he makes a
departure by giving to the viola, the rôle of the “leading lady” which
had not been done up to his day. He often used voices with the
orchestra as he did in his tone poems Romeo and Juliet, and The
Damnation of Faust.
The noisy Requiem is one of the finest things he did, and his
overtures, the best of which is the Benvenuto Cellini, are fine works.
The oratorio, The Infancy of Christ, written in classic style, was well
received, but his operas never succeeded.
He paved the way for new orchestral effects and prepared the
ground for Franz Liszt, Richard Wagner, Richard Strauss, and all the
other orchestral composers. He was a musical Byron, for he was
more interesting than beautiful, more vivid than noble, a sincere
poseur, faithful to his ideas and always searching for romance.
 Hector Berlioz.

(Father of the Tone Poem.)

 Franz Liszt.

Sympathetic Teacher, Composer, Pianist

and Friend to Young Musicians.

He was well versed in literature, always carried Virgil in his pocket,

and loved and admired Shakespeare, Goethe, Byron, Walter Scott
and other great writers on whose works he based many
compositions. In his fascinating autobiography, he said, “The
dominant qualities of my music are passionate expression, internal
fire, rhythmic animation and unexpected change,” and he was right.
And so we leave this romantic man, craving sensation in his life
and in his music, exaggerated in word and tone, and thank him for
what Daniel Gregory Mason calls, “His contribution to the unresting
progress of art.”
He was not appreciated in Paris until after his death, and some one
said that the stones hurled at him in contempt were soon piled up for
him in the pedestals of his monuments.
 Franz Liszt

Another Mozart seems about to appear, for Franz Liszt (1811–

1886), too, was an infant prodigy!
He was born in Raiding, Hungary, and his father, Adam Liszt, who
was steward to Prince Esterhazy, gave Franz piano lessons and
managed his first concert tours.
At nine Liszt played in public, then went to Vienna and took
lessons from Carl Czerny and Salieri. When twelve years old he
played in Paris and “set the world on fire” with his brilliancy. Some
one said that after his first concert that he had a triumphal progress
to fame over the laps of great ladies, for he was petted and “bon-
bonned” and kissed by all.
Liszt wanted to go to the Conservatory in Paris, but as he was a
foreigner, Cherubini, though a foreigner himself, would not admit
him.
 Advertising Liszt

Here is a handbill used for advertising the little boy Liszt:

“An Air”
With grand Variations by Herz, will be performed on Erard’s
New Patent-Grand Pianoforte, by:
Master Liszt
Who will likewise perform an Extempore Fantasia and
respectfully requests two written Themes from any of the Audience
upon which he will play his Variations
This illustrates two interesting things. The first, the mention of the
grand pianoforte, which had not been in use very long; the second,
the fashion in Liszt’s day of improvising before an audience, a “stunt”
almost like solving a cross-word puzzle without a dictionary!
For a long time, he was advertised as two years younger than he
was, and his father carried him to the piano; but he soon rebelled at
this pretense and it was discontinued.
 Liszt Shows His Unselfishness

After Liszt’s father died in 1827, he gave up concert tours for a

while, and settled down with his mother for eight restful years to
study and teach the piano. Liszt generously gave his mother all the
money he had made in his successful tours because, he said, she had
made so many sacrifices for him. At this time he grew spiritually
deeper and well fitted for the glories to come. Like Berlioz, Liszt was
born a short time after the French Revolution, when new ideas were
coming into literature, religion and art, through which this young
and gifted artist tried to guide himself in a wholesome way that
shaped his future life.
Liszt again made concert tours through Europe (1839), and
astounded everyone with his playing and the charm of his
personality. Musicians and audiences were at his feet! He made a
great deal of money, too, and grew so popular that artists painted
him, ladies knelt before him in adoration, tableaux were given in his
honor, monuments erected to him and societies named after him.
His kindness to the poor and needy was unfailing. When Pesth was
inundated by a flood, he sent a generous gift to the sufferers; he
established a fund for the poor in Raiding and completed the
necessary sum for the Beethoven monument at Bonn. He never
accepted money for teaching after he was “grown up” for he wanted
to be a help to his some three hundred pupils. It is said that after
1847 he never gave a concert for his own benefit! An extraordinary
character!
In 1843, he went to Weimar, as a visiting artist. Soon he met
Princess Von Sayn Wittgenstein of Russia who realized his great gifts
and influenced him to become more than a pianist. Later in the year
we see him as Choir Master living at Weimar and attracting the
greatest people of the musical world to him. Here Liszt was able to
help young musicians who came from all over the world. Wagner
would never have been so successful, had not Liszt aided him during
his exile. He stood by him with patience and loving kindness and
helped him to produce his operas. He was of untold assistance to
Schumann and Berlioz, Rubinstein, Cornelius and countless others
by performing their works when nobody else dared to. Liszt was in
high favor with society, and having a love for the new in music, he
used his popularity to help music grow. Wagner himself said: “At the
end of my last stay in Paris, when ill, broken down and despairing, I
sat brooding over my fate, my eye fell on the score of my Lohengrin,
totally forgotten by me. Suddenly I felt something like compassion
that this music should never sound from off the death-pale paper. I
wrote two lines to Liszt; his answer was the news that preparations
for the performance were being made on the largest scale the limited
means of Weimar would permit.” Liszt’s motto was, “First Place to
the Living.”
 Liszt’s Professional Life

Liszt’s services were demanded for concerts and festivals in many

towns from 1852–1859. The people, however, could not understand
how their idol could believe in Wagner and Berlioz, and there were
many rabid discussions. Very soon Liszt brought out his own
symphonic poems, Tasso, Prometheus, Mazeppa, Les Preludes, and
his two piano concertos (1855–1857), utilizing his romantic ideas.
After leaving Weimar, which some biographers claim was because
of the adverse criticism of Cornelius’ opera, The Barber of Bagdad,
Liszt went to Rome. Here his deep mystical nature and his need for
rest and time for contemplation, led him to enter one of the Holy
Orders of the Church, and the Pope gave him the honorary title of
Abbé. Pope Pius IX adored him and called him his Palestrina. The
church music which he composed there included his oratorios St.
Elizabeth, The Christus, his unfinished Stanislaus, the Hungarian
Coronation Mass and the Requiem.
Liszt returned to Weimar every spring and summer and conducted
many festivals and concerts, including the Beethoven centenary. He
was also much interested in the National Academy at Pesth, so now
he divided his time between Rome, Pesth, and Weimar.
He wrote many brilliant piano pieces, among them his nineteen
remarkable Hungarian Rhapsodies based on the melodies he heard
from the gypsies. Besides composing music, teaching and helping
other musicians and giving to the needy, he wrote essays and
criticisms.
In appearance Liszt was tall and thin with deep-set eyes and bushy
eyebrows and a mouth which turned up at the corners when he
smiled. His charm of manner won all who came in contact with him.
A story is told of him that he as a youth was sitting to the artist
Scheffer for his portrait, and fell into a theatrical pose, probably with
his head thrown back and one hand thrust into the breast of his
buttoned coat, which was characteristic. As this did not impress the
painter, Liszt, realizing it, cried with much embarrassment, “Forgive,
dear master, but you do not know how it spoils one to have been an
infant prodigy.”
 In spite of Liszt’s outward affectation and posing, he had a noble
character. He was simple and whole-souled, free from jealousy and
the love of money. He died highly honored in 1886 at the age of
seventy-five at a Wagner festival in Bayreuth. In fact it was difficult
to tell who received more honor at Bayreuth, Liszt in the audience or
Wagner at the conductor’s desk.
 Liszt’s Accomplishments

As a pianist, no one has surpassed Liszt and he revealed the

piano’s possibilities. In addition to his pianoforte compositions, he
made “arrangements” of symphonies, chorals, operas, songs and
every other form, which brought them closer to the people. His
arrangements are so brilliant, although over-decorated and cheap in
effect, that he shows that the piano can almost reproduce the
orchestra.
Liszt was not as great a composer as he was a pianist and
stimulator of other musicians, and much of his music was written for
effect. Yet he was a great critic and his love of music for the future
rather than of the past, led him to be sympathetic with young
composers, for whom he opened the way. The people who gathered
about him disliked old forms and were looking for new music in
which he encouraged them. Among the musicians who were friends
and pupils at Weimar, were: Joseph Joachim Raff, Peter Cornelius,
Eduard Lassen, who took Liszt’s place when he left Weimar, Leopold
Damrosch, the father of Walter and Frank Damrosch of New York,
Alexander Ritter, the pianist and inspirer of so many great people,
and hundreds of others.
Liszt wrote many symphonic and choral pieces which showed
marked originality. Although not as profound as Wagner, he helped
Wagner so much that their names would be forever linked, even if his
daughter Cosima had not been Wagner’s wife.
 Rubinstein and Von Bülow

Among other friends of Liszt of value to musical history were

Anton Rubinstein (1829–1894) (page 443), the Russian, and Hans
von Bülow (1830–1894), a German. Both these men were great
pianists and wrote noteworthy compositions. Liszt was a great
stimulus to them and they had many points in common. Rubinstein
was romantic and von Bülow, classic. Rubinstein did much to link
Germany and Russia musically, which was a help to both nations.
Von Bülow was an illustrious pianist, friend of Wagner, famous
conductor, and editor of many musical scores, among them an
edition of Beethoven’s Sonatas, still in constant use. Both these men
did much for pianists all over Europe.
Other great pianists and composers of their day were: Nikolai
Rubinstein (Anton’s brother) (1835–1881); Theodor Leschetizky
(1830–1915), trained by Carl Czerny, and he in turn trained
hundreds of pianists; Karl Tausig and many others.
Of course, the effect of these pianists was to make music and the
piano more popular, thus adding greatly to the musical culture of the
world.
 Tchaikovsky

You probably know of Piotr (Peter) Ilyitch Tchaikovsky (1840–

1893) as a great symphony writer, but he was also a successful writer
of tone poems such as The Tempest, Francesco di Rimini, Manfred,
based on Byron’s Manfred, Hamlet, The Storm, Romeo and Juliet
and two incomplete poems, Destiny and Voievoda. Tchaikovsky was
born in Russia, he went to the school of Jurisprudence and later
entered the Ministry of Justice but soon began to compose music and
took a medal for composition for a piece which he wrote on Schiller’s
Ode to Joy, the poem Beethoven used in his 9th Symphony. He also
wrote The Nut Cracker Suite for orchestra, adapted from the score of
a Ballet, which includes a Russian dance, an Arab dance, a Chinese
dance, flower waltz, and other fascinating, whirling, delightful
dances.
Many of Tchaikovsky’s things not called tone poems have very
definite programs, such as The Snow Maiden (Snegovrotchka) a
favorite legend and music to a fairy tale—the parts are named Chorus
of Blind Gusslee Players, Monologue of the Frosts, Appearance of
the Wood Demons and so on.
 Sergei Rachmaninov

Boecklin’s painting Isle of Death, inspired Sergei Rachmaninov

(1873) to write a most beautiful musical poem about its sombre trees
and the sea. As a distinguished pianist he has glorified the art in all
countries, especially in America. He was a student of Siloti and of
Zvierev, a friend of Tchaikovsky. His masters in harmony and theory
were Taneiev and Arensky. He has held musical posts of honor and
has written remarkable piano concertos, chamber music works,
choruses and one opera, Aleko. You probably know his much played
C minor Prelude which has been a sort of visiting card of
Rachmaninov to the public.