The Painting and The Piano by John Lipscomb and Adrianne Lugo

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FTC: I received a free copy of this book from Book Publicity Services  in exchange for my honest review. I received no other compensation and the opinions expressed in this review are one hundred percent true and my own.

The Painting and The Piano by John Lipscomb and Adrianne Lugo was a hard book to read at times. I say that it was hard to read because of some of the things that the characters went through in this book. I know that this book could be triggering to some people as well because of the topics talked about. With that being said I did enjoy this book and found myself wanting to read it until the end because I wanted to know how it all played out in the end. I liked this book so much because it is a true story and I always find myself loving books that are true stories. There are parts of this book that reminded me of my childhood, so I know also helped me understand what the characters felt at certain points throughout the book. I enjoyed this book even though it was hard at times to read it. I loved that the characters made it through and wrote this book to help other people learn from the things they went through as children. If you love autobiography types books than I know you will love this book just as much as I do. This is one that I am going to be adding to my personal collection of books because I would like to read it again in the future.


About The Book

The Painting and The Piano, by John Lipscomb and Adrianne Lugo, is an improbable story of survival and love.

Genres: Literary Nonfiction / Romance / Memoir / Addiction and Recovery

Growing up more than a thousand miles apart and worlds away from each other, Johnny and Adrianne seemed to have all that a child could ask for. However, the demons of their respective mothers would tear their young, fragile lives apart.

Eventually, destiny would bring Johnny and Adrianne together, but first they had to endure the painful toll that alcohol, drugs, and a negligent court system would take on them. With parts of Adrianne’s story ripped from national news headlines, their story takes them from the depths of despair and near death, to their first serendipitous introduction and the moment each knew they were finally safe.

Filled with hope, inspiration and humor, The Painting and the Piano is an unforgettable story of pain, loss and the undying human quest for happiness. Told as a tandem narrative, Adrianne and Johnny’s stories are unique, but share parallels that create a taut and emotionally compelling narrative.



About The Author’s

Johnny and Adrianne reside in South Florida with their Yorkie, Holly.  Both are involved in the AA/Recovery community. Adrianne currently works at a recovery house and Johnny continues speaking, sponsoring and helping others in recovery.

Readers can connect with them on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads.

To learn more, go to

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I’m in an office in Manhattan. There’s a large mirror embedded in one wall. The furniture is small, a table and two chairs built especially for children. There are a few toys, but none of them are very interesting.

The room is bare and cold, even though it’s mid-summer in Manhattan.

Honey, we have to go, but we’ll be back soon, okay? Mom says.

Where are you going? I feel fidgety and kick at the kiddie chair next to me.

Just for a little walk, not too far.

My tummy hurts and I don’t want to be there.

Okay, Ady Maidy? Dad asks.

We’ll be back in a jip, Mom adds.

Jiff, Dad says.


Jiff! We’ll be back in a jiff.

Good grief. She knows what I mean, don’t you honey?

Mom and Dad look at the woman who brought us to this room. I don’t remember her name, maybe it was Ms. Abramsky, but she’s wearing beige polyester pants and a sky blue short-sleeved blouse with a ruffle running along either side of the buttons.

Her arms are folded across her belly. It’ll be okay. Your mom and dad will be here in a minute.

I look at my parents. Mom and Dad are right here.

Mom’s eyes are sharp, head tilted, arms across her chest, purse grasped tightly in her right hand. Dad’s eyes are soft, moist. His hands are in his pockets.

I guess I mean Mr. and Mrs. Schoenowitz, Ms. Abramsky says.

Can we step out into the hall? Mom asks.

Yes Mrs. Cahn, replies Ms. Abramsky.

Will, why don’t you stay with Ady, Mom says to Dad. She and Ms. Abramsky step into the hall. The door shuts solidly behind them.

I couldn’t hear what they said, nor do I think I wanted to, but when I was older Mom rehashed the conversations she’d had with the agency.

Everything was fine until I called to say we wanted to adopt Adrianne, Mom remembered saying.

I know, responded Ms. Abramsky.

When we first came into this agency we were very clear that we were looking for a baby girl that we could adopt—

I wasn’t here then—

I know that, but it should be in the file because when we were called we were told that you had a little girl from drug-addicted parents and that it would be a long-term foster parenting opportunity that probably would turn into an adoption.

At that time the mother was in jail and the father was nowhere to be found, said Ms. Abramsky.

Right…and all the time your agency is telling us, ‘Don’t worry, everything is fine—’

And it was. When you asked about adopting Adrianne we had to try and contact the biological parents, which we did—

Uh huh—

—When Adrianne was born Mrs. Schoenowitz voluntarily put Adrianne into foster care, so we had to try to speak to both Mr. and Mrs. Schoenowitz—

So that’s why we’re here now—

—and they wanted to meet Adrianne.

What about adopting Adrianne? Is that still in the picture?

Mrs. Cahn, we’re a foster agency and in no way an adoption agency. We have certain guidelines.

Does one of those guidelines include telling Mrs. Schoenowitz she has the right to take Adrianne back?

It took a long time for Mom to get an answer to that question.

Margaret Tidwell

I am a 33-year-old blogger. I write about my life and my struggles with Multiple Sclerosis. I also am a huge bookworm, and I have been doing book reviews for years now. I even blog about adoption, Multiple Sclerosis, and things that go on in my life.

Margaret Tidwell

Margaret Tidwell

Margaret Tidwell

Margaret Tidwell

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