Set-up; Told in first person POV of Grace--one of Thomas's dearest and oldest friends and former muses. Little does Thomas realize how Grace feels for him--nor will he for a short while longer. Here, Thomas returns from Rome, despondent over the fact that his muse(Sarah) and the pupil he'd taken under his wing (Edward) have since married, without his knowledge. His friends, Grace and Frank offer their assistence as only true friends can in times of crisis--
The pungent stench of stale liquor hit Frank and me when I opened the door.
“Thomas?” I called, easing the door fully open. The door brushed an empty bottle of port, sending it rolling across the wood floor, smacking the wall.
“Oh dear,” Frank muttered under his breath.
We found him seated at his writing desk. Hundreds of pieces of wadded pieces of paper were flung around the room. His cupboard storing his port hung open and it was empty, the bottles strewn about the room with used glasses perched next to them.
“Ah, there you are! My last two friends in all of London and quite possibly the planet." Thomas tried to stand, but his boot caught on the table leg and he plopped back in his chair with a rousing thud.
“It’s a bit early for port, isn’t it, Thomas?" I moved about the room, gathering up the bottles. Frank took a trash receptacle and silently started picking up the trash scattered around the room.
“Don’t start with me, Grace. God knows I don’t need another woman harping on me, telling me what I should and shouldn’t do.”
I continued to carry used dishes to the kitchen, stopping long enough to put on a kettle for some strong tea. “You have me mixed up with your critics, Thomas," I said as a jest.
“Oh no, Grace. The critics, now there is another matter entirely. I’m talking about my muses, Grace.”
I glanced at Frank who just shook his head.
“They’re all the same. Luring me to them like sultry sirens.” He grabbed at the air as if mimicking being pulled in. “Their beautiful smiles, porcelain faces, swanlike necks…sucking me under until I surrender to their passion.”
“Good God,” Frank muttered, tossing another paper wad in the trash.
“Then, bam!” He smacked his fist to the table, bringing my head up. I exchanged looks with Frank.
“I’m suddenly not around enough, or doing more of this, not enough of that. ‘Take me here, Thomas. Let’s stay in, Thomas. Isn’t it too early for port, Thomas?’" he bellowed, swerving his bleary-eyed face to mine.
It was the first time, he’d ever called me a muse. “You are nasty when you’re drunk.”
He lifted his hand and looked at Frank. “You see? I cannot please them. What is a man to do, I ask you, Woolner?”
“Help me get him to the kitchen,” I said taking Thomas under the arm.
“You needn’t worry, Grace. I have sucked the place dry. There is nothing more for me to drink and I have absolutely no money to buy more. Oh!" He looked at me with a sardonic grin. “And no one will buy my paintings.”
Frank and I escorted him, listening to his jabbering all the way to the kitchen sink. I started the pump and got a steady stream of cold water rushing from the spout. “Put him under.”
I suspect the Pope in Rome, heard his colorful testimony. He still had a lot of fight left in him. Frank held him as best he could and I shoved his head under the water.
Thomas’s hands flailed, his words gurgling as he tried to speak.
“It won’t do any good to cuss, Thomas, we can’t understand you,” Frank advised.
Thomas slammed his palms against the kitchen sink. “Enough!”
Frank and I walked him to his chair in front of the fireplace. As I set to the task of getting Thomas to remove his sodden clothes, Frank built a warm fire. I grabbed one of the throws across the back of the chair and tucked it around his naked shoulders.
“Drink this." I shoved a cup of strong tea into his hands.
“Hair of the dog?” he asked raising his bloodshot eyes to mine.
“Straight strong tea, Thomas,”
“Do you want to talk about what happened that made you do this to yourself?” I asked, sitting down across from him.
“I’m going to go see if I can drum up something for him to eat,” Frank offered.
Thomas looked at me. Only one other time had I seen him look as bad as he did now.
“My father died while I was in Rome. I didn’t know about it until I got home.”
“I’m sorry, Thomas.”
“I haven’t been in touch with parents for years. William was always the one who kept us connected, and well, now…I haven’t heard from him in so long.” He paused staring at his teacup.
“I came home and found a note from Sara, telling me that she and Edward had gotten married. They came by the studio a few days later to gather their things. Edward didn’t know where they would stay and I understood them not wanting to stay here, so in a moment of weakness, perhaps pride”--he shrugged--“I told them they could have the farm. They might as well. What good is it to me, anymore?”
I nodded, not wanting to ask the question pressing my heart. I summoned my courage, needing to know. “This was more than you expected, wasn’t it?” I asked.
Thomas’s hair, dripping wet was matted to his head. I rose, took the towel from his shoulders, and began to rub it over his head, drying his hair.
“I don’t know, Grace. I thought I knew what I was doing. The truth is I don’t know how to live without my muse." He laughed quietly.
Which one, Thomas? I thought staring blindly into the fire. I realized then, that he’d never called me his ‘muse.’ Had our relationship gone beyond that of a master and his muse? Did he consider me more of a confidant, a friend, or simply a set of comforting arms when he could not appease or be appeased by his ‘muses’?
“You’ll find another muse, Thomas and you’ll begin to paint again.”
"The Master and the Muses was an emotional roller coaster and I thoroughly enjoyed the ride.
Ms. McIntyre's writing is so vivid I could see every scene"~BookAddict
"Her writing here is realistic, filled with emotion, and had me clinging to every page to see where she would take the characters next. It was a page turner from the very beginning"~Sapphire Romance
"At the center of this unique story is an irresistible hero, Thomas Rodin. Complicated and charismatic, he’s matched by his muses in complexity, making The Master & the Muses a very special reading experience. 4.5 stars!"~RTBookreviews
"I was so sad to finish this story! I'm also salivating for another story similar to this one, though I'm not entirely sure if there ever will be one like it. This read was definitely a new and fun experience for me"~Book Faery
The story behind MASTER AND THE MUSES:
I am very grateful that my editors shared the vision I had of this book. It would have been easier to follow the rules of traditional romance and have three separate artists and the relationship each had with their muse or model. But it would not have been the way the reality portion of this story should have been told. Its' most unique property, perhaps is the fact that I've taken three fictional characters based loosely upon the very real lives of women who posed as models for members of the rebellious artists group, the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood.
So little is known about these women--Who were they? Where did they came from? How did they meet? What happened to them after their commission was finished? These artists were young, on fire with their passion to produce works that would outlast their critic s and make their mark in history. That passion for one in particular, was so strong that he radiated with a charismatic charm that drew men and women alike to him. Women were obsessed with him, men wanted to be like him. This is the character upon which I based my hero Thomas Rodin on, if you will permit, admittedly a tarnished hero at that. Its is the story of the journey to happiness of four people, whose lives intertwine over the period of a few years, all with Thomas Rodin as the proverbial maypole of seduction and mayhem. Each women tells her story of how she meets Thomas and becomes his model first, friend, foe and lover. It is there journey--and so too, Thomas's, as each discovers who is the master and who is the muse in this game of passion and romance!
NOTE:These pictures were used only for inspirational purposes
Music & Media
- Pre-Raphaelites at Home by Pamela Todd
- Pre-Raphaelites in Love by Gay Daly
- Art & Forbidden Fruit by John V. Le Bourgeois
- Lizzie Siddal by Lucinda Hawksley
- The Pre-Raphaelites by Jan Marsh
- Art Nouveau and the Erotic by Ghislaine Wood
- Victorian London.com
- Desperate Romantics-BBC You tube
- Enchanted Serenity of Period films
- The Girl with a Pearl Earring-Lions Gate Films
- Art History, Historical Outline of Famous Artists of the 19th century
- Vintage Visions
- Victorian Station
- The Pre-Raphaelite Critic
- Pre-Raphaelite Women: Models, lovers, Art-sisters
- The Beautiful Necessity
- law.umkc.edu
- Victorianweb.org
Music itunes radio:
- Classical/Solo Piano music, Sky.fm
- Ambient/Got Radio Piano perfect
- Classical/Cinemix/movie soundtracks
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