Title: LOVE AND THE BARD
Genre: NA Contemporary
Word Count: 90,000 words
When Anna accepts her friend Coy’s invitation to join him and his uncle on a Shakespeare Festival roadtrip, she only sees it as a last hurrah before Coy goes back to Chicago. She never expected to fall in love while watching Othello smother Desdemona with a pillow.
Their romance has the potential to be more than just a summer fling when Coy asks Anna to move to Chicago. But Anna’s father, a widower, has always dreamed that Anna would remain at home and finish her education at the same school where he met Anna’s mother.
Anna’s impending move threatens to destroy their relationship, which has always been the most important one in her life. She can be a dutiful daughter or a woman in love—but not both.
Like the Bard says, the course of true love never does run smooth.
The thick manila envelope from the University of Oregon is staring at me. Or, at least, I am staring at it, trying to figure out what it’s doing on my desk. I haven’t applied to the University, so why have they sent me a big, thick package?
I tear open the envelope and pull out a letter.
Dear Ms. Claysmith, Thank you for your interest in the University of Oregon. Enclosed you will find a copy of our course catalog for the upcoming school year.
I don’t need to read any further. This has Dad’s handiwork written all over it. The envelope, the letter, the course catalog--all are explained by the photograph of my parents that sits on my desk. In the photo, the two of them are only a few years older than I am now. They have their arms around each other, proudly wearing robes and mortarboards and holding their diplomas from the University of Oregon.
Dad hasn’t kept it a secret that he hopes I’ll go to Oregon when I finish my Associate’s degree next month, but pretending to be me and requesting a catalog from the school is taking things a little too far. I chew on the inside of my cheek, trying to decide how to tell him this.
My phone beeps, distracting me from my thoughts. I snatch it off the desk and see the reminder I set for myself: Rehearsal, . Good thing I gave myself a half-hour’s notice; the letter from Oregon made me forget I had plans this evening.