Black Adagio: Virtual Book Tour

Black Adagio

Wendy Potocki

Genre: Horror, paranormal

Book Description:

Melissa Solange is presented the chance of a lifetime. Chosen as a member of a new dance company, she works tirelessly perfecting the one element of ballet she's never mastered—the adagio. As she rehearses, a dark force watches. Resurrected by the surprise addition of a classic ballet to the repertoire, the sinister work is thought to be cursed—destroying anyone who attempts to dance it.

When the production's lead dancers begin to disappear, the old warning is taken more seriously. A death worshipping cult called The Innocents is blamed, but she is not so sure. They may be the scapegoat for an ultimate evil living in the woods of Holybrook. Desperate for an answer, she searches for what lurks in the shadows of the old trees before she becomes the next victim of the Danse Macabre.

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Excerpt

Keeping track of the passengers that departed, all the stops in town were completed. The last one at the outskirts of town remained. Trying to figure out why Barbara was traveling into the middle of nowhere, he ruled out that she could be headed to the school. She wasn’t a dancer, and evening was much too late to be wandering around in the dark. Then there were those woods. It made no sense for her to be going near there. No one in their right mind would be going into that forest alone.

Alone! That was it! She was going to meet someone, but why was she doing it at this time of night? Perhaps she was cheating on the man she’d left him for. If so, his heart went out to the cuckolded husband. He hated to admit it, but he could well imagine her engaging in this kind of betrayal. If she could do it to him, she was capable of doing it to anyone.

Out on the open highway, the vehicle raced at a clip. Its windshield wipers batting away, the smattering of snow drove into the glass. He stepped on the gas, his car’s tires digging in. Gripping the wheel, the heat was now shooting out and thawing his frozen extremities. His thighs still tensed, it wasn’t from the cold, only the gravity of the situation. Certain that he could press them into further action, they wouldn’t fail him. He was old, but not dead. There was no way he’d miss this opportunity.

His palms were sweating, his brow becoming moist. Old feelings surged up from the soul holding his sanity like fragile glass. His eyes already tearing up with regrets, he wondered if there was a promise of a future. While he was interested in hearing her explanation, what he really wanted was for her to change her mind.

He was being a fool. His friends and family had told him that over and over again. Even with drumming it into his head, all his chances to be happy were let go like grains of sand from a hand opening on a beach. He didn’t want to be with anyone else. It wouldn’t be fair to pretend someone else was her. 

Easing down on the brake, the final stop was up ahead. Pulling to the side of road, he parked, waiting for the inevitable. Withdrawing from the car like a cobra from a basket, he wrapped his arms over his chest, beating his arms slightly for warmth. Hopping from leg to leg, the bus came to a halt. His eyes level with the passenger that emerged, he finally saw her.

“Barbara!” he screamed, the sound covered by the loud rumble of the bus resuming its rounds.

Spinning her head around, she met his eyes. Her face taking on an expression of fright mixed with determination, she took off for the woods. Her high boots easily cutting through the deep snow, his legs had trouble lifting, but he nonetheless tried to follow the footsteps that carved out a trail.

“Barbara, please stop! I only want to talk to you!” he pleaded, “You owe me that much!”

Arms flailing from a slip, he recaptured his balance. The lip of the woods ahead, Barbara was surprisingly fleet of foot. Only a few feet ahead of him, with a tremendous effort, he shifted into a higher gear. His legs pumping forward, his arms aided in him catching up with his elusive muse.

At the foot of the path leading into the forest was where he caught her. His hand groping forward, he snatched a hold of the synthetic white material, not letting go. His other hand joined in, gaining even a better hold on her wrist. Spinning her around, he stared in horror. Unable to speak, he broke the silence with a scream.

Review:

Picking this book up, I had a really hard time putting it down and for a writer with several deadlines looming, that can be a dangerous thing. So, while I may not know a whole lot about dance, I found myself hooked by this dark supernatural tale about a sinister force lurking at Holybrook. There were a few grammatical things from time to time, but I was so engrossed in the story, they didn't phase me much at all. Those things are minor compared to a story with subtle dark forces and a plot that made me want to stay up long hours. It reminded me a little of Black Swan, but not too much. :) I also felt a little of the menacing element of Phantom of the Opera lurking and that just made my heart happy. Creepy story, beautifully written prose, especially as the book began. You felt for the character and understood this was a make or break moment for her. The description of the seasons made me smile and I think I fell in love with the story right then.

4/5 Great story. Very enjoyable!

Q:     I’m delighted to introduce Zoe Ryan, a supporting character in the wonderful new book BLACK ADAGIO by …

A:     Excuse  me, but I am NOT a supporting character.

Q:     I’m sorry, Ms. Ryan, but I’m reading through the press release and it says …

A:     Look, I don’t care what it says. I’m the freakin’ star of BLACK ADAGIO. Everything revolves around me, okay? Just consider it an extension of Zoe’s world.

Q:     But this press kit was written by the author, and Wendy Potocki states, “BLACK ADAGIO combines two of my passions: horror and ballet. In this paranormal thriller, Melissa Solange’s resolve is tested—both by dance and a jealous, spiteful fellow student named Zoe Ryan …

A:     Clearly the names are reversed. Melissa is the one who caused me the problems. She’s whiny and needy and a complete mess. She even conspired with her boyfriend Todd Cavanaugh to frame me for a crime I didn’t commit, but I’m not surprised she would use him that way. She never really cared about anyone but herself. She’s a user/loser.

Q:     I apologize for the mix-up, Ms. Ryan. Why don’t we begin again by you telling a little about yourself? How old were you when you started ballet?

A:     I started at age 7. Of course, I was instantly recognized as a child prodigy. I mean, look at the proportion of my limbs. This is the kind of physical perfection needed to excel at ballet, and luckily, I was born with it.

Q:     But doesn’t talent have anything to do with it?

A:     Talent? You mean the commodity that Melissa Solange is missing? *Zoe laughs hysterically* Excuse me, but it’s just so funny really. I suppose you’d have to see her in the flesh to appreciate the witticism. Anyway, what did you want to know?

Q:     About talent? Isn’t that a necessity for a career in professional dance?

A:     It is and I have that, also. And it’s not just me saying it; it’s every teacher I’ve ever had. They go nutso when they see me, and who can blame them? It’s why the rest of the girls at Velofsky’s Ballet are so jealous, but none more than little Missy nobody. Why are we talking about her? Isn’t this interview supposed to be about me?

Q:     Actually, you were the one that brought her up. I was just talking about dance.

A:     Then let’s talk about it! I’m the best there is. Anyone who appreciates the art can see that. I’m going to set the world on fire. Before I’m done, everyone will compare themselves to me. Just as soon as I get rid of my competition, I can …

Q:     My, that sounds ominous. Exactly what do you mean by “get rid of your competition”? Aren’t planning on murdering them in the Holybrook woods or anything, are you?

A:     Why, I didn’t mean anything! I was just talking … and you’re putting words in my mouth! Are you sure you’re not friends with that idiot Melissa?

Q:     Never met her. I’m just trying to conduct this interview. Now it says in the press kit that you’re going steady with a Justin Tortini?

A:     Yes. Justin is dreamy. We make the perfect pas de deux—on and off the stage. Put simply, he’s hot. He’s so lucky to have me.

Q:     I see, but can we just go back to Melissa Solange for a moment?

A:     Must we?

Q:     Yes, we must. I’m just wondering why, if she’s as talentless as you say, she was chosen by Velofsky’s to attend their school. After all, isn’t that invitation going to lead to her being a member of their company?

A.     It can possibly lead to a contract, but if I were Melissa—and thank God I’m not—I wouldn’t hold my breath. As for the first part of your stupid question, I don’t know why she was selected. There are a lot of curious choices—like Missy’s roommate Brandi Cappella for instance. Have not a clue as to why that mess is here.

Q:     Well, as talent goes, I hear you tell a pretty mean ghost story. Mind confessing where you got that skill?

A.     Ehm. Obviously, you didn’t even try to figure that one out on your own. I suppose it is easier to ask than actually think, but maybe that’s me. I’m not the lazy type while you are. The answer is that I’m an artiste. If you’re truly an artiste, you are creative to the extreme. It’s why my story was so compelling.

Q:     Ms. Ryan, about this supreme self-confidence you seem to possess, have you always been this in love with yourself?

A:     What’s that supposed to mean?

Q:     Nothing.

A:     A passive/aggressive, huh? You’re just another jealous byotch. I can’t help that you’re not young and beautiful like me.

Q:     Perhaps if I rephrase the question …

A:     Nope. Too late. This interview *Zoe takes off microphone* is officially over. Say hello to that pathetic little nothing Melissa when you see her. You two will make quite the team. Buh-bye! *Zoe storms away*

Q:     Well, that abruptly concludes the interview with the artist known as Zoe Ryan. Hey, Zoe, don’t let the door hit you in your tutu! Cheesh!

About the Author

Wendy Potocki lives and writes in NYC. If that isn't scary enough, she writes in the genre of horror. She feels creating good horror is an art form. She religiously devotes herself to pursuing it over hill and dale -- and in the crevices of her keyboard.

Named one of the Top Ten "New" Horror Authors by Horror Novel Reviews, she has six self-published novels. Book trailers for many of her works may be found on her official website wendypotocki.com/. Her next planned projects are Thrill, The Virgin, and ZaSo, a Gothic tale of horror.

In her spare time, she loves to go for long walks, drink Starbucks Apple Chai Lattes, make devotional offerings to her cat named Persephone, and be stilled by the grace, beauty and magic of ballet.

web:
http://www.wendypotocki.com/

Twitter:
https://twitter.com/WPotocki

Facebook Author page:
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Wendy-Potocki-Author/100285326834525

Book Trailers

Black Adagio:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WFNRk8IBKoI

The Vampire's Game
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EJUWiA55w5U&feature=related

The House of Cards
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qWtb1DU2XpU

The Man with the Blue Hat
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IgQalpFtQuY