Quite the Life (and all in Times New Roman 10pt!)
I recently had the good fortune to be interviewed by Betsy Wurzel, host of Chatting with Betsy, and you’ll be shocked to learn we talked about Unraveling Mystery, Metaphysics, and Romance.
Okay, we pretty much talked about my latest novel, Search, with some brief forays into my other works.
Today’s snippet deals with how honoring the convolutions of real life in one’s work.
Enjoy!
I recently had the good fortune to be interviewed by Betsy Wurzel, host of Chatting with Betsy, and you’ll be shocked to learn we talked about Unraveling Mystery, Metaphysics, and Romance.
Okay, we pretty much talked about my latest novel, Search, with some brief forays into my other works.
Today’s snippet deals with how Search came about (it was an outgrowth of The Shaman
Enjoy!
#ChattingwithBetsy
#PWTR
The good folks at the Keene, NH, Toadstool Bookshop invited me to do a book signing on Saturday, April 20th at 2 pm.
After the signing, we’re all going to head over to the coffee shop and talk about writing, being an author, and where stories come from.
I plan on having fun and hope you’re join me.
About Search
“The only rules that bind us are those we place on ourselves.”
Such is the great revelation which The Shaman’s Gio “John Chance” Fortuna discovers during one of the most tumultuous periods of his life. In college and having spent most of his life avoiding his grandfather’s trainings, he finds himself called to remember and practice his grandfather’s ancient ways to save children from human monsters. But every step into The Old Ways drives a wedge between Gio and Jess, the woman he loves and wants to spend his life with. Originally relishing the idea of her own personal Superman, she grows increasingly fearful each time Gio manifests an ability beyond her comprehension. And when both he and Jess realize he can use his grandfather’s teachings to force Jess’ to spend her life with him without her knowing he’s done so? Even though doing so violates everything he’s ever been taught? Gio realizes being able to do anything doesn’t mean he can do everything, and that the strongest bonds on us are those we place on ourselves.
About me
You can find out more than you need to know at my About page.
Ed opened his eyes at the smell of coffee. Morelli stood over him, steaming cup in hand. “You take it extra cream, right?”
Ed sat up and looked around. “How did I get home?”
“This is your bedroom, right? Any idea what happened to you? Me? Us?”
“You had a heart attack. I told you to cut out all those Italian cold cuts and to stop smoking, didn’t I?”
“You’re not stuttering. Am I talking with Ed or Gio?”
Ed threw off the covers and looked down at his rumpled clothing.
“Didn’t want to get too personal. You were on the ground. You spoke Italian again. All I got was Fortuna. Did Gio do something to you? He’s changed a lot since I knew him if he hurts people for no reason. Is that what happened?”
“How come you didn’t take me to Anna Jacques or Lowell General?”
Morelli pulled back slightly and looked at the floor. “I…no idea. Something said not to.”
“Did you get us here?”
Morelli snapped his head as if shaking off loose thoughts. “Yeah. I guess I did.”
“You’re okay now? No pain?”
“I’m fine. You? And this is Gio’s doing, right?”
“He made a…” Vox hesitated. His eyes darted around as if the correct word was hiding in the room somewhere. “A suggestion?” He closed his eyes and nodded as if supremely satisfied with the answer. “Yes. He made a suggestion.”
Morelli followed Ed’s eyes as if expecting Gio Fortuna to come out of hiding.
Gio took a sip of the offered coffee. “God, you always make it this strong?”
Morelli took back the cup and sniffed. “Whoa. Guess I did. Yeah, I must’ve. I remember now. I added an extra scoop of coffee. It mean something?”
“Maestro Fortuna likes it that way.”
“Is he here? Now?”
Ed stood. “He is here. Not here, exactly. He stopped by to…help. He also needed help. One of his teachers suggested someone.”
“He has teachers? There are people out there who can do more than him?”
“Several, according to him.”
“Christ, is this Dante’s Inferno in reverse?”
Vox absently took the cup and emptied it in two long swallows.
“I thought you didn’t like it that strong.”
Vox looked away and a slight smile creased his face. He nodded. It seemed more like a slow motion wag as Morelli watched.
“Is Gio with you right now? Are you and he…I forgot the term. Sharing?”
Vox’s face quavered, shifted, for a moment young, for a moment old, for a moment clean shaven, for a moment bearded, for a moment crew cut blond, for a moment balding salt & pepper. He spoke with two voices, one Ed’s own and the other almost forgotten. “Borrowing, Tony. It’s called Borrowing.” The quavering face nodded towards the shed holding Morelli’s listening device. “You’re needed in your shed, Tony.”
Seamus walked down Aer Lingus Flight 241’s jetway in a Hawaiin shirt, hiking shorts, riotous black hair against his roughened red skin, tablet tucked under one arm and phone in hand, all to the clacking of his Birkenstalks. He figured dressed like this he’d stand out easily enough for cousin Sean, who he didn’t see waiting for him.
“Probably getting me bags.”
The baggage claim carousel beeped and its red light began whirling as it vomited suitcases, backpacks, tightly bound battered boxes, and two baby walkers at his approach. He watched business people stand as the carousel brought their bags around, shifting from foot to foot, pacing but standing still, impatient to be off making money. Young couples stayed together, pointed, and laughed as they missed their luggage and watched it go around again. Parents left one to attend tired or excited children while they hurried after strollers, backpacks, gifts from the folks back home. One elderly couple struggled to get a large suitcase off the carousel and Seamus lifted it for them. “Let me help.”
The woman beamed. “You’re from Ireland. We just toured there for a week. Loved it.” She frowned as she looked at how he was dressed. “You don’t look like the Irish people we met, though.”
He exaggerated his brogue. “Ah, but you came over, to be sure, and had a crackin’ time.”
The woman’s smile returned.
“And don’t fret, missus. I got me Lucky Charms box, a red beard, green clothes, and a pair of shoes to mend and yay, a shilling in me purse to get by while I’m here.”
Both husband and wife scowled at him. The husband said, “Thanks for your help.” They turned and wheeled their suitcase away.
An exceedingly tall, elderly gentleman on the other side of the carousel from him didn’t pay attention to the traveling chaos. He smiled at children who gawked and pointed at him, dismissed parents chastising their children for being rude, and each time his face came up, he smiled at Seamus and nodded.
Seamus checked his watch. “Come on, Cousin. Traffic can’t be that bad this time of day. The morning’s just begun.” He called Sean on his phone. Voicemail. “Cousin, you know I came in Aer Lingus, right? You remember Aer Lingus? Your favorite airline? You always said it sounded like you’re going down on an angel?”
The carousel stopped gurgitating and people pulled, dragged, and towed suitcases, backpacks, bound boxes, and children to the buses and cabstands.
“Where’s me bags?” He looked around for the missing baggage office and the exceedlingly tall, elderly gentleman stepped aside. Seamus’ gymbag and travel kit sat beside him like exhausted travelers wanting a nap. The elderly gentleman smiled.
Seamus smiled and walked around the Carousel. “I think them’s mine, friend.”
The gentleman’s voice was silk on water. “Dia duit, an tOllamh O’Hearn.” He smiled at the shocked look on Seamus’ face. “I’m sorry, Professor O’Hearn, is my accent that weak? It’s been years since I spoke your beautiful tongue.”
“What’s this about? Where’s me cousin? Is he okay?”
“I’m told you and your cousin made a fascinating discovery. Or are about to. You’re here to confirm his findings, correct?”
“Who are you?”
“Forgive my rudeness. Introductions, of course. I’m John Willmette, Professor Emeritus, Investigative Forensics and a few other fields, Northeastern University. Call me Red.”
Red Willmette lifted Seamus’ gymbag and travelkit easily, walked to a security door, tapped a code, and it swung open. A middle-aged man in a non-descript blue business suit, revolver in hand, stood in what looked like a service hallway. He nodded and stood back.
Seamus stood at the carousel. Red Willmette turned to him and smiled. There were few people in baggage claim now and he heard the elderly gentleman speak as if they stood next to each other. “Please come with me. I don’t know where your cousin is. I’m here to help you find him and to learn a bit more about your incredible find.”