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The Fiddler's Fall
The Fiddler's Fall
The Fiddler's Fall
Ebook27 pages25 minutes

The Fiddler's Fall

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Best friends Dan and Tyn share a love of music, though Dan wishes they could share even more. When new fiddler Johnny Reed comes to town, Tyn's territorial streak turns friendly competition into something more sinister, and Dan must figure out who Johnny really is--before the violinist he loves loses his soul.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMay 23, 2013
ISBN9781301297696
The Fiddler's Fall
Author

James C. Femmer

I’m just your typical half-fae Germano-Celtic Spaniard living in Central Pennsylvania with an obsession with modern fantasy, action-adventure, and live music.I don’t look my age. I blame my elvish heritage. I don’t act my age either. For that I blame my human heritage.

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    The Fiddler's Fall - James C. Femmer

    The Fiddler's Fall

    by James C. Femmer

    Smashwords Edition

    Copyright 2013 James C. Femmer

    All rights reserved

    Cover by James C. Femmer – cover image by Ba-mi | Dreamstime.com

    License Statement

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    What the hell?

    Violin music wafted towards us as we crossed Third Street, some sort of hip-hop song. It leaked out of the stone Broad Street Market building at the top of Verbeke Street. My best friend Tyn, his fiddle case in hand, opened the Market's front door and narrowed his eyes.

    The music itself was nice, but its mere existence provoked Tyn's face to pinch up, as if he'd just bit into a lemon.

    The Market was slowly filling up for Saturday lunch, and near the center, in front of the curry stand, stood the new fiddler. I knew right away he wasn't a local. The fact that he was playing our turf confirmed that. Plus, I would've remembered a good-looking guy with orange hair—especially one who played the violin.

    I recognized the Tam Lin reel he was playing, even though he'd arranged it in a different key and was backing it with a modern urban track. The music took on new life in his hands, and I had to admit I liked it. Attuned as I was to that particular piece, it took every ounce of my self control not to tap my foot in time.

    Who is that guy? Tyn asked, dodging locals as he outpaced me.

    I jogged a few paces to catch up to him, and I managed to grab one of the

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