By Matt Rees
Award-winning writer Matt Rees takes readers to 18th centuryAustria, the place Mozart’s estranged sister Nannerl stumblesinto a global of ambition, conspiracy, and immortal track whereas trying touncover the reality approximately her brother’s suspicious dying. Did Mozart’s existence endin homicide? Nannerl needs to courageous dire situations tofind out, operating afoul of the key police, the freemasons, or even theAustrian Emperor himself as she delves right into a scandal more than she had everimagined. With pleasing old information, compelling characters, and areal-life secret upon which every thing hinges, Rees—the award-winning authorof the the world over acclaimed Omar Yussefcrime series—writes within the culture of Irvin Yalom’sWhen Nietzsche Wept, Louis Bayard’s The faded Blue Eye, andPhillip Sington’s The Einstein Girl to achievethe absolute best in historic fiction with Mozart’s final Aria.
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Extra resources for Mozart's Last Aria
Example text
Or a rival composer robbed of a commission by the greater artist. Then there was his uncouth little wife and her conniving Weber family, which had blackmailed my brother into marriage. I found it hard to imagine them as murderers, yet why was Constanze so determined that I should dismiss Wolfgang’s suspicion of poisoning as the delusion of a melancholic spirit? Everything about Wolfgang’s life was extraordinary. Now I was asked to accept that his death had been so commonplace it could be explained by a doctor’s examination of a rash on his skin.
Glancing at the other man, he bowed and caught my hand to kiss it. As he straightened, he paused, looking down at me with his head angled to the right. He raised his finger and smiled. ” “Or as I prefer to remember you from my journeys through Salzburg: Nannerl. ” He took both my hands. “Gieseke, this is Wolfgang’s sister. ” Gieseke slouched to a counter along the back wall and poured a glass from a ceramic pitcher. He watched me steadily. I would’ve been unnerved, had I not found Schikaneder’s warmth so welcome after my strange meeting with Stadler.
There’s port, brandy, and arrack in there, too. Don’t be confused by the sweetness,” Gieseke said. ” I coughed again. Schikaneder returned. “Ah, the punch. Zum Wohl! Your health. Yes, yes, it’s strong stuff. Wolfgang could’ve told you that. ” “I never saw him partake of too much alcohol except under your expert tutelage,” Gieseke said. “True. ” Schikaneder’s lips quivered and his brow descended like a man experiencing the utmost pleasure. He widened his eyes and seemed to search the shadows in the corners of the room.