This is a love story on many levels which I enjoyed thoroughly and would recommend without reservation. It only started to annoy me in the last third when I began to fear that it would turn into a depressive cheat. When it didn’t, and that wasn’t a sure thing until the very end, I was relieved, and impressed at the artistic manipulation. And reassured that I’d invested my time wisely.
It starts slow. I lost interest several times, put it down, and forgot about it. But I kept remembering and coming back. Partly it was the religion. You don’t find much good writing these days that takes belief seriously. I suppose most fans will be about the young writer’s age and familiar with his music. I’m quite a bit older, and I’d never heard of Bill Deasy, only his book. But it doesn’t require a generational hook. It even reminded me, in surprise flashes, of my own college days, in the dim, distant, ancient past. Now I’ll look into his music.
Via 
Rio’s samba version is the place to be, of all the carnival festivals at this time of year. Bruna Bruno and other drum queens 
THE TEXAS SCRIBBLER 