Title – The Sound of Serendipity
Author – Cynthia A. Rodriguez
Publication Date – April 14, 2016
So many things can happen to a person on a Central Park bench.
For Emerson Kingsley, falling in love happened, despite her broken monster of a heart.
Emerson knows more about listening than she does about love, whether it’s listening to artists as a music producer or listening to stories as she people watches.
Months of watching Maddox Bailey from a park bench are to blame for her infatuation. In her mind, the moment they meet will be spectacular if she ever finds the nerve to speak to him.
But when the two share an awkward cab ride, she realizes that maybe fantasies are meant to stay that way.
The only problem is, now that they’ve met, he keeps popping up in her life. Each time he does, Emerson finds the real-life Maddox to be better than anything she could’ve dreamed—sexy, passionate, and sweeter than his chocolate brown eyes.
A woman in love with possibilities meets a man determined to make them happen.
Have you ever read the synopsis of a book and got this feeling in your stomach? One that fired signals to every single one of your brain cells and you just knew it was going to be magic? That’s pretty much the way I felt as soon as I came across Cynthia A. Rodriguez’s blurb for The Sound of Serendipity. I’m always worried that when I come across a book like this with that perfect set up, I’ll be disappointed by what I find within the pages. However, I can say with utmost certainty that it didn’t happen here. All of my expectations were met and far exceeded with this unforgettable storyline.
“Or maybe, as life goes on, we leave pieces of ourselves all over the place. Maybe I’ve pulled a Gretel and left a trail for someone to find me.”
The writing that comes from this author is indescribable. She paints these vivid pictures, awakening each and every one your senses as a reader. You aren’t just imagining the scenes, you’re living them. I could quite literally smell, taste, and see every little nuance in certain moments. As I went through it, I didn’t find myself highlighting lines that I enjoyed; there were entire paragraphs I could relate to. The story that flowed felt so effortless and left me in a wistful awe on more than one occasion. Music is something that almost every human being can relate to. If you’re anything like me, you’ve got a playlist filled with songs that can say more about your feelings than words would ever be able to. Because of this connection to music, I was able to relate to the characters, and the entire premise, on a deeper level.
“The purist meets the listener halfway and our worlds are in sync, at least for the song.”
Emerson is a reserved soul who observes more than partakes and not only listens but hears. She’s been scarred by a past relationship and needed to figure out how to grow from it. Though this is a story of romance, her journey became much more. It was about a woman who lost her voice and then had to learn to find it again. The way that Rodriguez did this was truly like a blossoming flower, and equally as beautiful and mesmerizing to watch. There was something about the way that I pictured the hero’s smirk that made me take an instant liking to him. Again, I blame the authors impeccable writing style that allowed me to fully embrace and envision what his quirks were. He was brazen and bold, but there were also these moments of intuitiveness and perfection that had me swooning. He seemed to always know the perfect thing to say and when words failed him, there was music. Together, these two were so similar, yet at opposite ends of the spectrum. I loved watching the relationship evolve and change. They truly did complement each other in the most perfect of ways.
“You’re young. And you’re still falling in love with yourself. Falling in love with the world. But I’d love it if you’d let me fall in love with you.”
Every once in a while, I’ll stumble across a book and just know it will make a difference. It’s one I want on any and every platform I can have it because I know I’ll revisit it often. The quotes don’t just pertain to a story, but to me as a reader, and as a human being. I’m sure that when I’m seeking solace, Cynthia Rodriguez’s words are ones that will haunt me and I’ll find myself returning to them. If music is in the tapestry of your soul, or you just love a good pick me up, feel good romance, I urge you to pick up The Sound of Serendipity. I absolutely could not put it down and think it’s one of those reads that needs to be shouted about from the rooftops!
We’re inside his apartment and I hope he doesn’t notice the way I’m clamming up. He’s in the kitchen, pouring us each a glass of wine and the dull romantic lighting is making me wish that I knew how to do this. How to initiate. How to be someone other than Emerson Kingsley; no virgin but no sex goddess either.
“Are you planning on leaving?” he asks when he walks over to me with both glasses in hand and I shake my head. “You can take off your coat. If you’re staying.”
I unbutton the large wooden buttons, slide the wool off my body and fold it over the top of his couch. He’s standing there, watching me with a smile in his brown eyes.
“You can take your shoes off too,” he suggests and I step out of them. My bare feet pad against the wood floor as I make my way to him.
“Thanks.” I take the glass of white wine and look around. The place looks exactly the same.
“Are you afraid?” The question takes me by surprise. I sit on the couch and wait until he’s sitting next to me to answer.
“I think I’m more afraid of disappointing you than anything else.” I set my glass down. “And I’m a little afraid of losing control with you. Of letting things happen and falling so hard that I break in the process.”
He pats his lap with his hands and I place my feet on him. When he starts rubbing my right foot, I groan. It feels amazing.
“Trust me to take care of you. Trust me to catch you,” he says and I relax. After a few minutes, he turns his ministrations to my left foot and I’m so relaxed, I may fall asleep. “Will you run away if I kiss you?”
My eyes are closed and I smile before I shake my head. I feel him let go of my foot and then he climbs over me. Holding his weight above me, not quite on top of me. I feel his breath on me. Cinnamon.
He takes my lips, just a taste. Then he takes another taste and another and my hands are on his back, in his hair, where ever I can touch him.
He sits up and takes me with him and before I know what I’m doing, I’m pulling off his shirt. He grabs my face between his hands and kisses me, and I’m so in the moment that I can’t be bothered about what I’m doing right or wrong.
He reaches under my shirt and runs his hand from my abdomen to my back. One hand makes light work of my bra’s clasp and then I’m leaning back to pull it from my body, throwing it across the room when I’m free. My white cotton tee is all that covers my breasts and before I can appreciate the way Maddox looks at them, he’s teasing them through the thin cotton, his finger grazing over them. Then his mouth is on my nipple, and I scoot closer to him until I’m rocking against the bulge under his zipper. Between the feel of his tongue and the way it flicks over the cotton and the way I’m rubbing myself against him, I’m ready to do anything he wants to do.
Suddenly he pushes me to stand, and I run my fingers through my messy hair as he unbuttons and tugs at my jeans. My panties come into view and he kisses my hipbones from his place on the couch. He turns me and I cry out when I feel his teeth scrape my lower back, just before the swell of my bottom.
“You’re breathtaking,” he says. I tug my shirt over my head and drop it on the floor. Then I hook my thumbs into my panties and slide those off. He’s staring at me with eyes that can’t stay still. They’re exploring and I want his hands to do the same.
I want to be naked in front of Maddox. I want him to be naked in front of me.
“Your turn,” I say, my voice little more than a whisper.
He stands and now that he’s towering over me, I can’t help but feel a little intimidated.
So I grab his belt and unbuckle it before tackling the buttons lining his groin. I brush against the hardness beneath and I try not to hold my breath. When enough of them are loosened, his jeans fall to the floor and I’m looking down at the prominent erection hidden by his blue boxer briefs.
I look up at him and he raises a brow. So I pull those down and straighten myself. I exhale and then we’re at each other. He lowers us to the floor and I arch my back, bringing my torso toward him. He runs his hand from my neck, flattening his hands between my bare breasts all the way down until he’s strumming my clit like his favorite guitar. He plays my body like a love song. There’s something sweet and intimate about the way he touches me. The way he caresses my bones, skin, and flesh. He touches me on the outside but he somehow touches me inside as well, where my soul is hidden. I know that love is such a dangerous feeling. I know it but I can’t help the way his name sits on my tongue, ready to escape the prison of my lips and teeth. The same way my heart escaped my ribcage and now only comes to life when he’s near.
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Cynthia A. Rodriguez hates writing her own bio. In her down-time, you can find her watching movies, ranging anywhere from classic movies to action flicks (she has a weakness for Marvel adaptations), and reading steamy novels. She is stationed in North Carolina, where she lives with her husband and their Miniature Pinscher, Winnie (as in Pooh).