Voice of Truth (eBook)

Behind the Scenes of Our Earthly Life

Melinda Leidgeb (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2018 | 1. Auflage
362 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
978-1-5439-5146-2 (ISBN)

Infos

When the mysterious suicide of famous pianist and composer Jason Harmsworth hits the headlines of all the major Boston papers, his young widow, Joanna, goes on a desperate quest for reason and Truth. In the darkness, God intervenes, entrusting a special mission to His beloved daughter. Leaving behind Heaven and Hades, Joanna-a singer in her own right-can't avoid the fact that our world as we know it is about to fall apart.

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What would you do if you suddenly heard the voice of Truth: "e;I will give you the key to mysteries, so you can warn mankind before it is too late..."e;? Would you have the courage to take a glimpse behind the backstage of life on earth? When the mysterious suicide of famous pianist and composer Jason Harmsworth hits the headlines in all the major Boston papers, his young widow, Joanna, finds herself in the valley of death during her quest for the Truth because of an accident. In the darkness, God intervenes, entrusting a special mission to His beloved daughter. Leaving behind Heaven and Hades, the young woman, a singer in her own right, cannot avoid facing the fact that our world as we know it is about to fall apart. It all begins with the mysterious figure who appears knowing exactly what he wants-a bright star shining on the stage. His heart fills with unparalleled adoration when he sees Joanna, and there is nothing he would not do to make her his! Nevertheless, even his vast wealth and power are destined to prove insufficient. Life has some surprises in store for others as well. Aloof and frosty Brandton Bayer has traveled the world and helped many; between his successful building company, his loving family, and his many talents, his life is rich and full. He seems to have it all until one memorable Friday. Selfless love and proud evil are fighting for you. The truth is that you were born with free will, you can decide between love and pride. When you choose love, you are choosing freedom and life.

Textauszug

Prologue

Pain will become a part of us only if we allow it to.

The colorful kaleidoscope of fall had passed by December 2018. Gray fog hung over naked trees, anticipation palpable in the air. Dark clouds gathered over Boston. The cold air was about to unveil its secret. A few moments passed. Slender white flakes came dancing, spiraling down. The cold wind, whistling from the north, scattered and swirled the feather-light ice crystals.

All the parks, streets, and buildings yearned for the whiteness to descend. Night fell. Darkness blanketed the scene. The rule of the night was broken only by the glimmer of the skyline.

In the distant, well-lit port, hundreds of private yachts were snugly bedded down on shore for the winter. The more cumbersome vessels, on the other hand, could not rest, their cargo being loaded late into the night.

Boston Common was slumbering. The only sound to be heard was rustling bare branches, tousled by the chilly wind.

The fog grew thicker. In the distance, the figure of a woman appeared. She tried to hurry, but her tired legs protested the pace. Her arms were clasped around her body, a vain attempt at protection from the bitter wind. Her feet moved faster and faster, almost as if she were running from something.

The dim streetlight fell on her exquisite face, which now was lined with fatigue and pain. Her elegant, cream-colored wool coat guarded her shivering body only down to her knees, and her thick knitted scarf tried in vain to keep her neck warm. Her tall, slender figure was shaking, her teeth chattering in the numbing cold. Snowflake after snowflake landed on her long, dark hair, and her sensitive skin was reddened by the chilling wind. For an instant, it looked like the harsh winter was getting the upper hand. Her hazel eyes seemed to be losing their brightness. Her expression spoke of profound pain, revealing not even a hint of happier times.

110 Stuart Street was only a few minutes’ walk from the corner of Tremont and Boylston. The brilliantly-lit building that rose above the neighborhood looked like an enormous giant, dwarfing the surrounding structures. The woman looked at the skyscraper, tears in her eyes. Only a few more feet, and she would be home. The thought of home usually brought a sweet smile to her face, but not today. She had no desire to get home. The hurtful words spoken by her husband had echoed in her mind over and over. The intensity of their fight had surpassed all the ones before. Two artists consumed by jealousy and anger. Two people, a wedge driven between them by something… or someone.

“Joanna, stop treating me like an idiot! I know what I know. You have cheated on me, haven’t you?!” She could see her raging husband, pounding his fist on the piano. She asked him where he had heard that lie, but he would not tell her. “It doesn’t matter how I found out, just tell me the truth!” She tried to explain, but it all seemed so useless. She sobbed and screamed the truth; that there was no one for her but her husband. However, he did not believe her. One word led to another. Then the man cut at her heart again with his cruel words and hurled his phone to the floor. She could take it no longer. She picked up her purse and ran for the door. “Joanna, if you step out that door, it’s over!” the man yelled, even while his eyes welled up.

The woman brought a trembling hand to her face, picturing once again the last desperate looks of her husband. She exhaled deeply as she drew near the entrance. Deep down in her heart she was hoping that this time they would be able to discuss things calmly.

As she entered and sensed the warmth of the room, her shivering body began to calm. The stylish apartment was dimly lit, the light mostly coming from the skyline outside the glass walls.

Theirs was one of the highest apartments in the building, so they enjoyed a picturesque view of all of Boston. An enormous grand piano stood as the focal point of the apartment’s entrance. Only one tall rice paper lamp lit the vast open space. The living room was mostly taken up by a chic leather sofa, which faced out toward the city. Volumes of literature covered the glass table. There were stacks of books on the floor. Joanna’s heart sank as her glance fell on the old photographs and memorabilia that had been scattered from the shelves.

“Jason! Where are you? Jason?!” she called out to her husband as she noticed a large bottle of whiskey on top of the piano.

She got no reply. There was an eerie silence in their home.

“Jason, are you in here?” She opened the door to their bedroom, nervous.

She switched on the light, and her life was changed forever. In that single instant her whole world caved in, and she ceased to be who she had been. That one moment was sufficient to turn her life into hell.

“Jason!” she screamed, seeing her husband’s corpse.

Jason Harmsworth lay on the bedroom floor in a pool of blood, the snow-white furniture and bedding painted a vivid crimson. A bullet hole torn in his heart spoke volumes. Next to his lifeless hand lay the murder weapon that had taken his life in an instant. Hundreds of glass shards covered the carpet, along with a broken whiskey glass and torn wedding photos.

“Jason…” she stuttered. She was suddenly shaking uncontrollably.

She fell in a heap on the ground in her excruciating pain. No tears came; she just stared ahead, her face deathly pale… It was several minutes before she was able to call the police. Until the detectives arrived, she paced in the apartment, only half-conscious, like a ghost. The nightmare turned into agony as she had to describe the details of their relationship again and again during the interrogation. All seemed to imply that the famous pianist had committed suicide because of a lovers’ quarrel, at least that was concluded from the scene…

Human existence is like a speck of dust, it comes and goes, it flutters by, as fragile as an exquisite piece of china. It was no different in the case of Jason Harmsworth. He came, he did his creative work, and then he flew away, leaving behind his young wife. The year after the tragedy brought so much pain. Following the burial, the young widow avoided the public for many months. Thousands of fans tried to comfort, pity, or condemn Joanna Debson. Multitudes of people blamed her and judged her without reason. For weeks afterward, countless false rumors circulated about the death of the composer and the widow he left behind. The young woman fell into a deep depression in her self-reproach and condemnation. Both her body and her soul were dressed in black after the tragic death of her husband. Her sweet youth was swallowed up by the bitter taste of old age. As the days went by, the pain may have subsided, but she could still feel the emptiness, the loss.

It was now December 2019, and a weekly paper published an article on Jason Harmsworth’s death, announcing a tribute concert on the anniversary of the tragedy. That night Joanna was extremely busy. She sprawled on her sofa, her notebook on her lap and a glass of red wine in her hand. She did all she could to keep herself from thinking of that dreadful night that had ruined her whole life. She tried to bury herself in her work, but her eyes kept returning to the window.

The lights of the city resembled a large field, the bright spots scattered across it like flowers. In the distance the suburbs glowed dimly. Winter gradually dressed all the buildings, stores, and parks in white. Peace and quiet lent a hush to the scene; the busyness of the day replaced by the strange calm of the night. Hundreds may have gathered at Jordan Hall by now, excited about the Jason Harmsworth Christmas tribute concert. The late composer had been able to carry his audience away, guiding them along the paths of music until they all experienced the magic of Christmas in their hearts. No wonder thousands were waiting for the wonder left behind as the composer’s heritage.

Joanna’s thoughts were far away. She sat alone, her only consolation a glass of wine, with her gaze fixed on the door of the bedroom they had shared. Her eyes flew to the grand piano, and her heart was filled with inexpressible bitterness. The instrument that had brought countless miracles to the world stood in dignified silence in the dimly lit room. She could picture her husband playing it. The artist, playing with his heart and soul, composing and inspiring. The man who had meant the world to her. The woman sighed deeply. She poured another glass of wine, but suddenly she saw the hind part of a Beagle puppy covering her keyboard.

“Murphy, go away,” she shoved the dog gently, but Murphy did not seem to understand. “I don’t have time to play with you right now.”

At the sound of the word “play”, the puppy jumped excitedly off the sofa and ran to the hallway. In a few moments he returned, carrying his prey, a chewed-up leather boot.

“Murphy, what are you doing?” she smiled. “I’ll never be able to finish all these interior designs.” The dog fixed his eyes on his mistress’s pants.

“Don’t even dream about it,” she laughed, a hint of bitterness in her voice.

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Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 29.10.2018
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Fantasy / Science Fiction ► Fantasy
• ISBN-10: 1-5439-5146-5 / 1543951465
• ISBN-13: 978-1-5439-5146-2 / 9781543951462