Simple Piano Sheet Music Novels & Stories

Theo Oblinger can't be arsed to admit that he feels a bit stuck. At 26, he's in the middle of finishing his PhD, thinks love just isn’t for him and plays the piano at an exclusive Club during the weekends. On a bleak Saturday night, he meets the owner’s son, Sam Wilcox, who might just help him get out of that place.

His songs were better when he had a broken heart. That sentence would change my life after my dream job was dished to me on a shiny, silver platter. All I had to do? Hurt Nash Pierce enough to get him writing good music again. The pop icon’s songs were no longer the phenomena they used to be. His team needed another breakthrough album—like the first he’d penned, using his heartbreak as fuel. The plan was simple: I’d go on tour with him as a backup dancer…and make him fall in love with me. I was hired to inspire—to become embedded into every lyric he wrote. Then, I was to set fire to it all—to destroy every feeling we hoped he’d develop for me. It seemed simple enough. Easy, even. I didn’t expect to be consumed myself—to see so much in the man displayed in the tabloids. I didn’t foresee falling for him. It didn’t occur to me that, while attempting to break his heart, I might just shatter my own. Most of all, I never thought I’d fight so hard to hold on to a relationship that had always been founded on goodbye.

Emily an average girl who wallows in debt, deperately accepts a nanny job offer to save her comatose father. “You start first thing tomorrow morning. Don’t be late. But before that,” Ryan paused bringing out a white sheet of paper from his desk wardrobe. “You have to sign this and you’ll be staying here 24/7.” This single act led her to finding out secrets she could never had imagined. Join Emily cater on her love roller coaster as she tries to navigate her way into her boss past.

[Mature content] [completed 20/5/2017] ❝The sane can turn you insane.❞ Anger. That's all he feels but when a certain kind of light sheds on his life, resistance is the solution. She bounds him in her chains and returns him from the anger to the light. She is his own personal angel. She plays the piano and he's on her heart keys over again. All rights reserved.

She won't take him back--no matter what. Or will she? Hayden Jenkins has lived in her hometown of Missoula, Montana, ever since she was born. She loves a simple life surrounded by her loving family, and that seems to be everything she needs. Or so she thinks. When her oldest brother’s wedding approaches, she fears facing a ghost from her past, the one who left her heartbroken seven years ago—Spencer Bailey, Hayden’s former high school sweetheart and the man who made her pretty much give up on real love. After graduation, Spencer left Montana to pursue a career in music in Los Angeles, which ended the relationship between Hayden and Spencer. They never spoke with one another again. Until now. Spencer's return leaves Hayden uneasy and anxious, still unprepared to face him after so long. Will it bring back unresolved feelings? Will they be forced to confront their past? Or will it be a second chance to rewrite their love story?

During a game of Truth or Dare at a company gathering, my wife, Whitney Stuart, picks dare. She has to share a passionate kiss with a man for 30 seconds while holding a sheet of tissue between their lips. Even though I, her lawfully wedded husband, am right there with her, she doesn't hesitate to choose her assistant, Zach Green, instead. Once the 30 seconds run over, the two of them reluctantly part, the tissue now drenched with their saliva. During the second round, I end up getting chosen. Chuckling, I say, "I pick dare." I turn to the side and kiss the female intern sitting next to me.

Because of her first love's piano competition, my fiancee, Ashley Blake, postpones our wedding for the 17th time seven years into our relationship. On the eve of the competition, she chops off my ring finger just because Marc Tyson claims I injured his hand and ruined his ability to compete. The pain of losing my finger leaves me crying in agony, but she simply holds him in her arms and stares me down with indifferent eyes. She says, "Stop pretending, Troy Clinton. You're a grown man. What's all this fuss over losing a finger? Besides, you merely lost one finger. Marc has lost the dream he spent his whole life chasing! This is what you owe him." Her cruel words shatter my heart into tiny pieces. She has forgotten that my fingers are also meant to dance across piano keys. "The wedding next week is postponed," she says dismissively while covering Marc's reddened fingers. She adds, "This has nothing to do with Marc. It's simply because you can't wear a wedding ring with a missing finger anyway." Clutching my bleeding hand, I finally wake up to reality. From this moment onwards, we owe each other nothing.

To my parents, I was their obedient and kind daughter. To my students, I was their gentle and understanding piano teacher. To my audience, I was the star performer at the cabaret. Of all these different identities, my favorite was by far the last. I enjoyed the hungry gazes that fell on me, searing my skin like flames. I enjoyed the juxtaposition between my different identities, never tired of playing different roles. In a sense, I was born to act, and I was passionately devoted to each of my identities. So, won't you come watch me dance?

During a vacation on the eve of her wedding, Victoria Marquez spent a night with a stranger who mistook her for a prostitute. Worse still, she caught her fiancé cheating on her with her half-sister right after returning home. Enraged, she went abroad. Five years later, she returned with her genius baby boy. When asked to give a speech after winning a piano competition, her son expressed his wish to look for his daddy. A few days later, a mysterious guy showed up, claiming to be the father...

In my past life, I walked away from an invitation to the elite Academy just to take the fall for Luca. He held my hand, swearing he’d get me out. Swearing he’d keep me safe for the rest of my life. Instead, I rotted in a cell until I died. While I was bleeding out on the cold floor, Luca was marrying the Don’s daughter, living the high life. When I opened my eyes, I was back. Luca was sixteen again, face pale as a sheet, shoving a bloody gun into my hands. "Elena, you're a lifesaver." I slapped the piece away. "Dream on. I ain't taking the rap for you this time."