fuonlyknew

Alex was trying not to hate them for what they’d done. But it was hard! She told herself she should pity them for their stupidity and cowardice. Unable to cope with reality, it was easier for them to retreat into their fantasies: where the dead were alive and the world was as it once was; or, better still, the saved were carried away in the rapture on heavenly escalators bound for eternal paradise. The past belonged to Victoria and the future with its promise of a glorious hereafter to Cat. But Alex? Alex could find comfort in neither. She was stuck here in this living hell, overwhelmed by the shit, and the stench, and the responsibility! How could they do this to her? They were her sisters; yet they’d betrayed her. Worse still, they’d betrayed their children. Narcissistic bitches! Cunts! Alex sat in silence, listening to the strained sound of her own breathing, stoically resigned to her fate.

“What do we do now?” Deana asked, plaintively.

Without saying a word, Alex got up, and walked from the cave. There was nothing to say. No words of hope. No reassurances that all would be well. The truth was they were going to die; their existence would come to a miserable end. It was only a matter of time.

Alex wanted to feel alive again, breathe fresh air, see the sky, let the wind blow through her hair, marvel at nature’s beauty, before those simple pleasures were taken from her. She wandered over the rocks, peering into the crevices. They reminded her of the world, the way it was now: barren and pockmarked. Alex stared across the river to the place where the minibus had been parked.

They were 35 miles from the camp. Sick and weak from hunger, there was little chance they could make it on foot. How could she expect children to endure such an arduous trek when they were starving? Even if they did have the strength to begin the journey, how many of them would survive it? In their present condition, making the trip across the mountains with its exhausting, steep climbs would take them six days at least. Six days of freezing cold nights, of possible rain, and wind. If hunger didn’t kill them, then exposure to the elements certainly would…not to mention the fallout still drifting down from the skies. She drew her knees up to her chest and, placing her arms across them, rested her head, wearily shutting her eyes. Alex was at a loss to know what to do: stay here in the shelter of the cave and starve to death or begin the odyssey through the wilderness on the slim chance that they might somehow survive it? Alex was tired, and weak from hunger. She wasn’t sure she could survive the journey, let alone the kids. Death seemed inevitable.

She lifted her head and looked around, surveying the cliff below. There was something black and tan resting on the rocks. Alex strained to see what it was. It appeared to be a short length of discarded rope. Near it, some 10 feet away, was another piece, thicker than the first. She made a mental note that they might want to retrieve them to use on their trip back across the river. Alex was turning away when she caught sight of movement down below. It was hard to tell, swaying trees and branches were casting shadows on the rocks. Curiosity aroused, she continued to watch the objects. There it was again. She stood up slowly and began making her way over the rocks. Halfway down, she realized they weren’t pieces of rope at all; they were alive. Snakes! Two big ones! What were they doing here? It was cold. Too cold for snakes to be out and about. They should be hibernating, yet here they were. Alex inched her way closer, eyes glued on the creatures. She’d never thought of reptiles as anything but revolting before, nevertheless, she suddenly found her mouth watering, visions of sizzling meat dancing in her head. Though torpid, they looked healthy and well fed. She wasn’t going to turn her back on good fortune. She intended to put them to good use.

Smiling at her prey, Alex picked up a stone and with as much stealth as she could muster, approached them, hoping they wouldn’t notice her and try to escape. The one on the left was the fattest. He’d be first. Clutching the stone tightly in her hand, she crawled to within two feet of him, then, lifting her weapon, brought it crashing down on its head, smashing the skull. Wriggling, even in death, she grabbed it and quickly turned her attention to the other one. Aware of the danger, it was slithering away. Scrambling over the rocks, Alex saw its head disappear into a crevice. Lunging for it, she managed to wrap her fingers around its tail. Tugging with all her might, she extracted the squirming snake from its hiding place and beat it against the rocks until it stopped moving. Today they’d eat! With just her two hands and a bit of luck she’d managed to stave off starvation, at least for the moment. Perhaps tomorrow they’d go hungry, but even that frightening prospect couldn’t dampen her elation. She looked out over the interminable expanse of green, stretching as far as the eye could see. It seemed less foreboding than it had a few minutes ago. Holding a dangling snake in each hand, Alex headed back to the cave, the tiny ember of hope she’d thought extinguished, glowing brightly once more.

I did 2 full years of research on the book, taking tons of notes, learning everything I could about wild edibles, native animals, and survival skills before starting it. Every locale mentioned in the story is a real place that we’ve explored and it has the type of plants mentioned in the book. I am a real research freak.

I love the mountains so many of my stories are set in the Adirondacks. We were going to visit my sister-in-law one time and decided to take a 20+-mile shortcut as the crow flies and found ourselves driving along a secluded, unpaved, seasonal, Adirondack logging road. No houses, no people, nothing but miles and miles of trees and spooky shadows. The forest was so thick, so dark, and foreboding, that it gave me goose bumps. I feared we’d get stranded and be eaten by bears never to be seen again. I kept imagining the murders and mayhem that might take place in such a desolate place. By the time we reached civilization and paved roads in the village of Number Four, yes it’s a real place, I had the entire plot of  WORSHIP THE NIGHT worked out: a homicidal librarian who goes on a killing spree, hoping to bring her demon lover to life.

The idea for my IN HIS KEEPING series came from another trip my husband and I took through the Adirondacks. We spent a lot of time there: camping, fishing, and just driving around looking at the scenery. That day we happened on the Westport, NY railroad station, near the banks of Lake Champlain. It’s quaint and  looks like it was built in the 19th century. The train station is where the first book in the series, IN HIS KEEPING: TAKEN,  begins and ends. It’s off the beaten track so I couldn’t help wondering what kind of people would get on and off at a station stop like that. I could see a young woman, down on her luck, who’s circumstances are so dire she’s willing to take a train up from the City and work for someone she’s never met, who she knows nothing about, and live with him in a remote mountain house. As I took pictures of the station, the story  blossomed. I knew I wanted my heroine to be nerdy and smart. I’d met a woman at a writer’s conference a few months earlier whose name was Sylvie. It clicked with me. It sounded spunky and sassy, just like the character I was envisioning. A girl who’s poor but proud,  an innocent who  grew up on a farm in western NY and went to the big city to work in publishing. She’s unemployed, homeless, and on the verge of starving. She needs a job and she’ll take anything she can get. That’s why she gets off the train in Westport. She has no other options. At that point, I had a heroine I liked, but no hero. I knew I wanted him to be a strict, rich alpha male. Dark, sexy, and with a hint of danger. At the time, I had no idea just how dangerous I was going to make him. I also wanted him to be a writer. We left Westport and  headed into the mountains. We drove down back roads and passed secluded log mansions perched on the slopes and dotting the lakeshores. I could see my guy living as a recluse in one of them. I picked his last name first:Hudson. I named him after the river, which originates in the Adirondacks and is 5 miles from my house. I came up with the first name Connor a few days later. That same day I heard something that made me decide to make it a threesome. I added a serial killer to the mix. It happened quite by accident. I was checking out Trans Siberian Orchestra’s holiday concert schedule, then went to YouTube to view videos of their past performances. O Fortuna from Carmina Burana popped up. I’d been to their concerts and heard them play it before. I listened to several  other versions of the piece that day and happened on one by  conductor André Rieu  André Rieu – O Fortuna (Carl Orff – Carmina Burana). It gave me an eerie feeling. The drums, the crashing cymbals, the staccato rhythm, the raised voices of the chorus, it sounded violent,  almost frightening. I could visualize an attack, knives, blood,  and a life and death struggle. The song provided the final elements of the plot and the most affecting scenes of the series when Sylvie comes face to face with the killer. In His Keeping Trailer