It's beginning to look a lot like...
/…Book 4
That’s right folks. Book 4 is coming along nicely. I set a goal back in January to draft two books this year. I needed a palette cleanser after the first trilogy, so I wrote some women’s fiction. It doesn’t have a title yet and won’t be out until after Book 4, but I think you all are going to like it. It’s in revision now, but it took a bit longer to write than I planned. So I didn’t get started on Book 4 until about mid-October. The bad news is that the first draft won’t be finished by the end of the year. The good news is that I’m almost to the mid-point. While I won’t be reaching my goal of drafting two books in a year, this is still MUCH FASTER than any of the previous books have been. I might be learning how to do this novel writing thing after all.
With that said, I am SO EXCITED for Book 4. And because I’m so excited for Book 4, I’ve got a couple of tidbits to share. First, the working title for Boo 4 is officially Nothing Good Gets Away. Working titles are always subject to change, but I’m getting pretty attached to this one. It comes from a letter that John Steinbeck wrote to his son on the occasion of his first love. It’s a beautiful letter, and a beautiful sentiment, but taken out of context those words become very equivocal. I dig that in a title.
The other thing I will share is this brief scene from Nothing Good Gets Away, because I know you’re just dying for a peek.
Edinburgh, Scotland
April 1996
They stepped off the bus on Princes Street near North Bridge. Dermot slung his bag over his shoulder. He surveyed the street hoping that the heavy foot traffic meant they could blend in. Sarah slipped her hand into his and their fingers laced together. The coiled tension that knotted the muscles in his shoulder eased a fraction. He marveled at the experience of actually holding her hand in a public place. After hiding his feelings for her for so long, to stand in the sun with her was indescribable. Soon they would be able to live together without any restrictions. As soon as they met up with Des, Sarah MacAlpin and Dermot Sinclair would disappear. They would start again with new identities.
He lifted their joined hands and kissed the back of hers. She rested her cheek on his arm. He turned to find her eyes on him, green and brimming with love. Her hair was once again tucked up under a brown knit hat to hide her distinctive curls. He flashed back to the wee hours of the morning when she’d awakened him and they’d made love again, her hair brushing his chest soft and ephemeral. She squeezed his hand with reassurance. One more thing to do before leaving Edinburgh, and they’d be free.
Someone on the street bumped his other shoulder reminding him that they needed to be moving. They paced themselves with the other pedestrians up North Bridge to the High Street before turning down Cockburn. The cafe where they were to meet Des was a few doors past Fleshmarket Close. He walked Sarah to a tourist shop across the street. He didn’t want to leave her there, but after Des’s warning the day before, he wasn’t entirely sure he could trust his old friend. She could watch from a safe distance here and her American accent wouldn’t be noticeable among the other tourists.
They spent a few moments browsing the souvenirs until the shop keeper, a young man who seemed largely indifferent to the half dozen shopping tourists. After a few minutes he picked a snow globe from a shelf and stepped closer to Sarah, who was combing through a rack of tartan ties. “Amy would love this.” He said loud enough for the middle aged woman a few feet away to hear.
Sarah leaned in as if to look at the snow globe. “You’re right. She would.”
In a low voice he said, “I’m going. If anything, anything happens across the street, or if I’m not back in ten minutes…”
“Don’t say it.” She hissed.
“…You take yer papers and go. Start a life somewhere.”
“I’m not leaving you.” She said.
“I think that saltire tie would be great for yer da.” He said sensing another browsing tourist had strolled within earshot.
Sarah looked over her shoulder at the older man who was a few feet away looking at golf club covers. She turned back to him and lowered her voice. “I wouldn’t blame you if you changed your mind. But if that’s what this is just tell me now.”
He smoothed a hand down her arm and caught her eyes with his. “My mum told me to take care of you. That’s what I mean to do. Nothing else matters.”
“You’re giving up so much.”
“I’d sacrifice everything for you.” He whispered. “Dinna be here in ten minutes, whether I come back or not.”
She handed him the snow globe, before pressing herself against his with a devilish look in her eyes. “Have I mentioned how much I liked waking up next to you this morning?”
“I mean it. Stay safe no matter what.” He planted a kiss at her temple and deposited the snow globe on the shelf beside them. He left to make his way across the street.
***
Sarah left the rack of ties and positioned herself by a rack of t-shirts where she could watch the cafe through the shop window. She saw Dermot walk across the street and enter the cafe. Naturally, the mysterious Des had not picked a table near a window for their meeting. Dermot disappeared behind the glare of the sun on the cafe windows. She forced herself to look at the shirts to keep up their pretense of souvenir shopping. She rolled her eyes at one that said “Kilt Inspector”, and flipped past one with the Stuart Lion Rampant. She couldn’t help feeling as if they were being stalked by a lion. There she was hiding in the tall grass hoping that she and Dermot could get to a safe place before the Stuarts could devour them.
Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a motion from across the street. She glanced over there, trying not to be too obvious. A couple of women were coming out the door of the cafe laughing at something, and away down the street continuing their conversation. Sarah checked outside the cafe to see if there was anyone loitering, but all she saw was a typical day on a street in the Old Town. Tourists strolled by pointing at the architecture of the old stone buildings or pulling their suitcases down the steep, curving street to Waverly Station. Locals bustled by on their way to work. Nothing out of the ordinary. No stalking lions. She checked her watch. Dermot had been gone for five minutes.
Sarah went back to the rack of shirts and continued pretending to shop. Another shopper began flipping through the shirts on the opposite wide of the rack, and Sarah’s pulse leapt. She hoped that tourists would be too interested in their own travels to pay attention to the local news or U. K. tabloids. It was why she had stayed in the hotel yesterday while Dermot had run about town getting cash and if all went right across the street a new identity. It had been weeks since the tabloids had first published her picture and connected it to billionaire playboy, James Stuart. Weeks of cramming her hair into a knit cap and wearing fake glasses. Weeks of living in fear of someone recognizing her. Now that she and Dermot had disappeared after their car accident in the Highlands, James himself was flashing her picture all over the television. If they stayed in Scotland much longer the hat and glasses were not going to be enough of a disguise. Sarah glanced up at the woman who gave her a cordial smile and moved on to the next rack that held rugby shirts.
She felt a second of relief before she checked her watch. Seven minutes. Dermot better come back soon, or she might have to go into the cafe to get him. She had no intention of leaving without him, even if that was what he’d told her. With all that he was willing to give up for her, she would rather brave the lion than be without him. She picked a shirt with some clan badge on it and held it up in front of the window. Looking past the shirt she eyed the cafe. Outside she tried her best to look calm, but inside she was a ball of nerves.
Now that you’re properly teased and probably mad at me for taking too long to write it. I have not one methadone list for you but three. As you know I love to research. So, I have three lists of further reading.
These are works of fiction recommended by me and fellow Once & Future readers to entertain you while I’m working on the next installment.
These are some books that I recommend looking into if you would like to learn more about the folklore of Scotland and Appalachia.
These are some books on history, and maybe a few on conspiracies that helped inspire and inform the Once & Future Series
