Music In Novels Novels & Stories

If Alessandro was going to keep me captive, I would make my captivity not complete hell. With that decision in mind, I took a deep breath and let the fears sink in. “What do you like to hear?” asked Alessandro, and I laughed. “I have no doubt you've gone through the playlists on my Spotify,” I said without hesitation. “That's true, but they are songs you compiled for your novels,” Alessandro said, and I raised my eyebrows. “You don't necessarily have to like a song to include it in a playlist; you do it because the song has to fit the mood, aesthetic, and plot of the book.”

And just as I lunged at him with the broom, he swiftly ran away. My nostrils flared with annoyance. "That jerk! A womanizer, an immature brat. He'll pay for this later!" I resumed my cleaning task. I continued sweeping the floor and then proceeded to arrange the books scattered and piled up under the coffee table. Books about music. How to compose a song? The influence of music on poetry. Although the books were outdated, the faded pages hinted at their long history of use. Perhaps they belonged to a master musician or Fiore's ancestors who had resided in this place. These books were meant to inspire and create music that would never be forgotten.

“Thank you.” She wanted to fold the note, and she noticed there was more on the back. She turned it to the other page and continued to read it. “Music is a dream, but one that you cannot hear. It gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and life to everything. It is the shorthand of emotion. Music can, without words, evoke our laughter, our fears, our highest aspirations. It is the shorthand of emotions. And I hope music will be your refuge just like it is for me. I always crawl into the space between the notes and curl my back to loneliness…

A subtle swallow, the rhythmic rise and fall of his Adam's apple, a muscle subtly tensing in his jaw—all beneath the scrutiny of his burning gaze fixed on me. "I have often wished for background music in real life. You know, like in the movies? You meet someone, and violins start playing. You make a mess and get a sad melody. When you first walked into my life, it was silent, no musical cues. Yet, gradually, I started to sense the music, understanding it wasn't just about the sound but about what the other person made me feel. And now whenever you kiss me, I can hear the violins in my head."

Music had always been my companion on long drives, a faithful partner that understood me like no other. The opening notes of a soulful melody filled the car, wrapping around me like a warm blanket on a chilly night. The steady rhythm and haunting lyrics transported me to a world of emotions. I tapped my fingers lightly on the steering wheel, matching the beat, and allowed the music to seep into every fiber of my being.

It felt confusing, it felt odd. The only thing that had ever felt right in all areas of my life was music. Music moved me, music understood me, music complemented me. I could laugh, I could cry, I could be angry, and I could be happy. Music allowed it all. “Are you playing something specific?” Nicolais stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. He was relaxed, calm. I smiled at him before letting my gaze fall back on the keys. “Just a melody that reminds me of home.”

From the number of dyed or shaved heads and tattooed bodies, I figured it was a good guess. Finally, when the tension almost reached the point where it was about to turn into irritating boredom, strains of music could be heard from inside the warehouse. In a few seconds, I recognized the soft piano intro music that kicked off every episode of Cain's Crossing. I knew after about thirty seconds, it would burst into a techno/industrial grind which I always took to be a shift from the pretty 'perfect' world to the nightmarish underbelly the show explored. I guessed when the music shifted, the door would roll open.

Like eating food that you knew would bother your stomach, but you just really want to know how it tastes. The music was soft and dark, seductive in its mellow but unsettled melody. The lyrics rang out like deep-toned incantations—which, in a sense, they were. All songs, even mortal ones, had their brand of magic. But fae music was something else entirely. Sy's music brought to mind foggy moors and forgotten caverns, filthy rock club basements and desolate rural ruins. It was dark and full of memory, laden with a yearning that might be called hunger rather than affection. There was a kind of shadowy, unspeakable yearning in the music, and I felt it slither coldly in the pit of my stomach. It

Just me, Ramon, and the music. The soft candlelight bathes the room and glows over the polished surface of the piano. Ramon sits beside me, his presence steady and reassuring, his crimson eyes fixed on me with an intensity that makes my pulse quicken. I hover my fingers over the keys, take a deep breath, and begin to play. The melody flows effortlessly, its cheerful notes filling the air. It’s light and bright, each note lifting my spirit as if carrying me to a place untouched by pain or fear. The music feels like an extension of me now, a secret language I’ve only just discovered but somehow know intimately.

His heart, level with my face, thundered heavily. As though the castle could anticipate our needs, music began to trickle from all corners of the ballroom. There was the smooth cadence of a violin, followed by the deep croon of a cello. Each note was overlayed with the unique melody of instruments found only in the godly realm, creating a sort of music that was both mortal and immortal combined. It felt fitting, given the circumstances. I couldn’t catch my breath. Not when Orion gently spun me on my feet, or when a subtle blush rose to his cheeks, dipping beneath his mask.