An aspiring teenage singer finds herself playing a different tune when she falls for a boy who could jeopardize her future dreams in Olivia Wildenstein’s romantic YA novel, Not Another Love Song.
Angie has studied music her entire life, nurturing her talent as a singer. Now a high school senior, she has an opportunity to break into Nashville’s music scene via a songwriting competition launched by her idol, Mona Stone. Discouraged by her mother, who wishes Angie would set more realistic life goals, she nonetheless pours her heart and soul into creating a song worthy of Mona.
But Angie’s mother is the least of her concerns after she meets Reedwood High’s newest transfer student, Ten. With his endless collection of graphic tees, his infuriating attitude, smoldering good looks, and endearing little sister, Ten toys with the rhythm of Angie’s heart.
She’s never desired anything but success until Ten entered her life. Now she wants to be with him and to be a songwriter for Mona Stone, but she can’t have both.
And picking one means losing the other.
“You’re really into music, huh?” Ten asks, halting my escape. He’s reading the flowy lyrics I inked on my bag—the chorus from my favorite Mona Stone song.Startled he talked to me, I don’t immediately answer. Finally, I say, “It’s my life.”He puts away his books slowly, as though trying to drag out the moment. He’s probably waiting for the classroom to empty so he doesn’t have to chat with anyone else on his way to the cafeteria.For some reason, I follow up my comment with, “The quote under my picture in last year’s yearbook said: Angie Conrad likes music more than she likes people.”A corner of his mouth quirks up, and I blink, because the beast is smiling. Ten hasn’t smiled once since arriving at Reedwood. At least, not at me.I stand up, hoisting my tote onto my shoulder. “Do you like music?”He evens out his already neat stack of textbooks. “No.”My head jerks back. “How can you not?”He slides his books into his backpack and zips it up. “Do you enjoy the sound of a car alarm?”Sets my teeth on edge. “Does anyone?”“My point exactly.” He’s standing now, so I have to crane my neck to look at him. “Are you seriously comparing music to a car alarm?”“Maybe.”He tumbles several notches down in my esteem, not that he was that far up to begin with.“Wow.” I shake my head and start walking toward the door of the now deserted classroom, but because I can’t leave well enough alone, I wheel around. “You can’t possibly dislike every type of music.”He lifts his hands and starts ticking off his fingers. “Rap, country, classical, and jazz suck. Ballads and soft rock are tacky. And don’t get me started on pop, hard rock, or R&B. Oh, and disco should be outlawed.”I hoist my bag farther up my shoulder, fingers clenched so hard around the fabric handles they’ll probably tear.He smirks, as though he gets a kick out of being a total jerk. “You seem really upset by this.” “I am!”He stops right in front of me. “Why?”“Because . . . because . . .” I release my bag’s handles and drag my fingers through my hair a little roughly. Why am I trying to reason with this guy? “You know what, forget it. To each their own, right?”I turn around and take the high road—or at least the one that leads away from Ten.
USA TODAY bestselling author Olivia Wildenstein grew up in New York City and earned her bachelor’s in comparative literature from Brown University. After designing jewelry for a few years, Wildenstein traded in her tools for the writing life, which made more sense considering her college degree.
When she’s not sitting at her computer, she’s psychoanalyzing everyone she meets (Yes. Everyone), eavesdropping on conversations to gather material for her next book, and attempting not to forget one of her kids in school.
She has a slight obsession with romance, which might be the reason why she writes it. She’s a hybrid author of over a dozen mature Young Adult love stories.