Chapter 14

I was washing up the teacups when Perry returned. A fear rose in the back of my mind. Had Wade told him about Dave? I felt a defensive invisible shield surround me.

“Kerrie, thanks for having my sister over for tea. When she found out there was a woman was renting the Pirate, she could barely contain herself all morning. I think that today’s tea was the first she’s ever had in the summer time.” His hearty laugh made me smile.

“Nova is fun and very likable.” I smiled, remembering her laugh.

“Yes, that she is. I don’t have many complaints in the sister department.” I felt an air of indecisiveness in his manner. “Are you going for your walk down the beach today? Or is your knee to sore?” He asked.

I paused at my task of wiping the crumbs off the table, “I don’t know yet. Probably will later. Why do you ask? And how did you know about my knee?”

"Wade mentioned that you had an accident with the coffee table.”

“My knee’s fine, bruised but fine.”

“I thought that instead of a walk, I could take you for a drive down to the south end of the Island when the temperature cools down some. Have you been there yet?"

I shook my head, "No, I haven't been too many places. I'm not an explorer. Wade promised to take me on some excursions but so far, he’s been to busy.”

His huckleberry eyes smiled. For the first time, I noticed sparks of silver around his pupil. I had to focus as he continued, "Sea birds nest on the south end of the island. The young have hatched and are amusing to watch. Not many people venture out that way because you need a four-wheel drive vehicle to get through the shifting sand. I usually go a few times during the breeding season."

Caught off guard by his invitation, I blushed, "I have grown fond of bird watching. I would love to go see an actual breeding ground." I added with a toss of my hair, "I don’t want to get into a rut."

Taking advantage of my accidental pun, Perry grinned, "We can't have you stuck rutting, now can we, woman? Let's tidy up and get out of here." I imagined my face matched the red in the swimsuit that Nova had worn.

The drive took twenty minutes. I didn't realize how huge the island was. Exploration was not my biggest virtue at the moment. Perry was right about the birds. There was a multitude of species I had never seen; oyster catchers, terns, and herons to name a few. I watched them through binoculars, as he expertly described them to me. They were in a protected area roped off by the local wildlife resources, so that tourism would not cause damage to the nests or the young.

Taking the binoculars away, Perry said, "Let's go for your walk."

I teased, "Are you suggesting that I am a walk-aholic?"

Perry laughed, "I must confess, you don't have to be told twice about watching the tides." His eyes were teasing me. I felt the warmth of his smile and it made the sun’s glow pale. "Come on, woman, I want to show you something special."

We walked in a comfortable silence. The calm ocean was a warm hue of sea green with white diamonds sparkling across its surface. Seagulls laughed at each other, as we walked. I was glad that Perry didn't seem to expect me to babble like many men did. He accepted the quaintness of our silence, much like I did.

The clouds were powder puff pinked tinted pieces of fluff. I drifted into thought of how to work them in the novel that I was tentatively forming in my mind. Perry broke our quaint silence.

"I know this question is out of line. Wad can't seem to give me a straight answer." He hesitated. I continued to quietly walk beside him, looking at the ocean. Instinctively, I knew eye contact would have him running.

Finally he sputtered, "Kerrie, is there a Mr. Rosewood?"

Caught off guard for the second time, I sputtered back, "No, there isn't. I am single, proud and free." My mind began playing 60's protest songs.

I forgot what I was going to say, as we came around a slight bend on the seashore, to find a cove where the inlet met the ocean. The sight before me stopped any explanation that I felt drawn to make. Three dolphins were chasing a school of fish into the shallows and feasting on them. They frolicked, jumping and calling to each other.

I sat in the sand, tired and overwhelmed by nature. Caught in a golden haiku moment, I wanted to absorb the poetry of the moment, as the dolphin schooled their dinner. Fish were jumping, as if the water was made of fire. The dolphin would catch them in their smiling mouths. Sea gulls and terns fluttered overhead, trying to snatch fish, too.

Giggling like a child, I basked in the joy of the dolphin antics, until they swam away sated with fish. We walked back to the truck in silence, neither of us wanting to break the serene mood. The drive home went faster than the drive there. I should have been tired but I felt refreshed and alive.

Perry dropped me off in front of the Pirate. "I need to drop by the gym. See you later," he said in a neutral tone.

"Thanks for the wonderful afternoon," I smiled. He nodded as he drove off.
"Strange man, “I thought, "One moment my buddy and the next a complete stranger."

Chapter 13

I had a nice big bruise growing rapidly on my left knee. I walloped it hard when I fell over the coffee table. With my leg propped up on the couch, I sat thinking about the conversation with Gene. My brow furrowed because I was worried about Gene’s secretary giving out forbidden information. She was the kind of woman that would melt if pried with flattery. David was the king of charm.

A fleeting knock on the door announced the arrival of Wade. “Kerrie, what happened to your knee?” His concern deepened the wrinkles in his face.

“I forgot I moved the furniture around. When Gene, my editor called I fell over the silly coffee table. I’ll be fine. It’s just bruised.”

He gave me a dubious look. “Well, it keeps swelling we’re going to the hospital.” He paused, surveying the room, “Looks better,” and then continued to the heart of the matter. “What did the man say?”

“He said that Dave was fishing around for information on where I am, he doesn’t know, thank heavens. Gene has a plan to send David a red herring—that I’ve headed west to the mountains. As far as he’s concerned, I’m in no danger.” I stretched the truth a smidgen, but I didn’t feel in any danger.

A soft knock at the door interrupted us. In the doorway stood Perry’s sister, wearing white shorts over a red tank style swimsuit. She seemed to hesitate before entering through the sliding glass door. “Sorry to disturb you, but do you by chance have any tea? Perry is a complete coffee maniac, while I prefer hot tea.” She smiled, “My name is Nova. I’m Perry’s sister.”

I smiled politely, “I’m Kerrie. It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

Wade grinned broadly. I could tell from the way he hugged her that she was one of his “baby dolls”.

“Kerrie, this is the sweetest lady on the mainland. Boy, I’m one lucky old salty dog. I’ve got the two sweetest ladies in the whole world under one roof.”

Nova and I laughed and exchanged a knowing glance. Wade made excuses and rushed out, claiming to be late for dinner. Trying not to limp, I went to retrieve some tea bags for her.

“Why don’t I have a cup of tea with you, Kerrie?” She asked. “I need a break from the guys.”

So I put the kettle on and found some cookies to compliment the tea, once it was ready. We decided to sit under the window in the den, where a cool breeze blew and enjoy our tea. I covertly examined her, finding no resemblance to Perry. She was his direct opposite, all soft and feminine. Her light blue eyes held his warmth though, and I was happy to see it.

“I can’t believe Perry made changes with the decor. He usually shuns change. But it does look better in here,” she said.

I cleared my throat, “I’m the one who changed everything. I had some restless energy and couldn’t control it.” I laughed nervously and was relieved when she joined in.

“He won’t spank you.” She winked, “But then again, he might.”

I blushed, not sure what kind of comeback was proper to that remark.

“Kerrie, you look familiar. Have you vacationed here before?” She searched my face, trying to place me. I stumbled for an answer.

“No, this is my first time. As a writer, I do travel some and have had my picture in several publications. You may have seen me in one of them.” It was my turn to wink. “Or I could have one of those faces that remind you of a famous model or a soap opera seductress.” I fluffed my hair with a dramatic flair.

We both giggled, as we sipped our tea. Nova broke the silence. “I’m glad you were here today. Being around males all morning had been tiresome.”

I smiled politely. “I’m glad, too. I think you are my first female visitor outside of the cleaning lady. Wade drops in almost daily for lunch.”

“Oh no, you’re feeding him.” She laughed, “Wade is the epitome of the statement about ‘a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach’”

I grinned. “I’m learning valuable information from him, like how to lie about the size of the fish I may catch in the future.”

“You know, I’m surprised that Perry’s ex-wife hasn’t been by to see who’s living in ‘her house.’ She must not know that you’re here.”

“Is she big and bad? Should I hurriedly re-arrange everything to its proper place?” I jested.

“Honey, if you ever meet her, you’ll know it immediately. She still refers to herself as ‘Mrs. O’Brien.’ She’s terribly spoilt and the biggest snob around. I don’t know why Perry married her in the first place.”

“Maybe because I was in love with her,” Perry said, startling both of us.

“Perry! That was rude of you!” Nova declared, as she wiped some spilt tea off her shorts.

“And you so giddily discussing me isn’t?” His stern face made me want to melt into the couch cushions. He started to say something else, but faltered as he noticed the changes that I had made.

“I…er…took liberties with the décor and the furniture. I can move everything back, if you don’t approve.” I said timidly.

“Actually, the place looks better.” He confessed. I was relieved, until I noticed Nova looking at us with a knowing look on her face. I had a feeling she was as bad as Wade was about sticking her nose in places it shouldn’t be.

“Kerrie, you should be honored. Perry would usually rip of the head of anyone who was bold enough to make a change.”

“That’s not true, Nova. Little Billy still has his head after the crayon incident last year. Speaking of which, both boys are awake and watching cartoons. If you want to miss the late afternoon rush to the mainland, you better get on the road.”

“Oh my, is it that late? Kerrie, I enjoyed the tea. You have to come for lunch the next time you are on the mainland. Perry will give you the directions.” She gave me a warm hug. “I would love the company. Maybe Perry can come along, too.” A twinkle in her eye confirmed my previous notion.

“I would love to visit and will do so soon.” I replied, ignoring the insinuation about Perry coming along.

Perry quickly said, “Kerrie, I need to see Nova and the nephews off. Have a good afternoon.” I watched them leave. A pang of sadness touched me, as I felt a little light go out, when Nova left. She had definitely brightened my day. But now I missed the camaraderie of my friends at home.

Chapter 12

With the news of David’s probing my whereabouts, I extinguished the idea of driving to the mainland. David’s tenacity was exhausting at times. Poor Gene with his sidestepping manners probably couldn’t supply an adequate answer to David’s insistence on knowing where I had ventured off to. If I didn’t think of something fast, soon Private Detectives would be searching for me.

When I arrived at the Pirate there were no signs of anyone. Perry’s truck and the blue van were still parked where they were when I left. Tiptoeing up the stairs, I didn’t want to arouse attention. To be perfectly honest, I was in a mild state of panic over David’s call. With Perry’s keen eyes, I felt he would notice right away something was wrong.
Once inside, I opened the sliding glass door that led to the deck, so that the ocean breeze would blow through. As I walked through the house, opening windows, I tried calling Gene, but only reached his receptionist. I gave her a message and on impulse left the phone at the cottage as the contact number.

I tried to write but only succeeded in typing, “leave me alone, David” on my laptop. Shutting it down, I knew I had to find something to preoccupy my mind with. But nothing worked. Sitting on the couch I found myself staring at a painting that hung over a wicker chair. Its oceanic scene didn’t match the green fern fronds on the fabric of the cushion in the chair. Looking around, I found a better spot that kept shadows during the day. It lent the painting a stormy moody look that fit the artist’s style.

With that one change, I began a simple re-decorating project that soon had me trying to move the furniture, which was a mistake. I moved the wicker chairs with ease, but a sharp pain in my midriff caused me to fall back on the couch that I was trying to shove against a different wall. Waiting for it to recede, I surveyed the room. It looked the same but different. I wondered if Perry would be pleased with the results. Then it occurred to me that maybe I should have asked before remodeling. After a few minutes, I felt better, but wasn’t motivated to get off the couch. The moist breeze off the ocean made me drowsy and soon, slumber found me.

The shrill ringing of a phone hauled me out of a dream. The sound was so foreign that it didn’t register at first. “Gene,” I said aloud. Half asleep, I forgot that I had changed the furniture around and found myself face down on the carpet, after tripping over the coffee table. Thankfully, Gene let the phone continue to ring until I picked up the receiver.

“Hello? Gene?” I asked breathlessly.

“Kerrie, I just got your message. Baby, what took you so long to answer the phone? I was about to hang up.” He gave a sly laugh, “Have you found some beach balls to play with?”

“Gene, your mind is insidious. I fell over the coffee table. I’m not used to answering this phone. By the way, make sure you either disguise it or discard this number. David is searching for me. He called the realty company that leased me this cottage. Luckily, the agent was mum about me.”

“Damn, I told you he’s being persistent in finding you. My office has strict orders not to give out any information to him. Last week, I caught him bringing my secretary flowers, turning on his charm works. The man is desperate to find you. Why don’t you call him and get it over with? He’s not giving up, darling.”

“No, I’m not going to call him. I’m vulnerable right now, Gene. If I give him a second, he’ll have me believing that the past can be erased and he has changed. He’ll never change, Gene, never. You know it. I know it. My heart is too scarred to take another chance with him, because he will resort to being himself after a few weeks and I’ll be devastated once again.” I fought back tears as I spoke, vehemently.

“Hush now, no crying. I’ll see if I can’t throw him off track, maybe have my secretary slip that you went west instead of east. Promise me that you will keep your cell phone with you at all times?”

“I promise.” I didn’t know if keeping my cell phone handy would be worth the trouble, because Perry was right about all the no service areas on the island.

Chapter 11

The sea gulls woke me up again, early the next morning. Their laughter was different somehow, making me to feel disoriented. I stumbled to the bath to splash some cold water on my face. Glancing out the window, I saw that I had mistaken a pair of giggling boys for sea gulls. The boisterous little boys were tussling on the walkway. Perry’s nephews, no doubt. From behind the curtain, I watched Perry and a slim lady with light brown hair herd the boys off to the beach.

While they were on the beach, I slipped out of the cottage. A trip to the mainland seemed like the perfect chore for the day. A blue van with a bumper sticker that said “Proud Parent of an Honor Student” was parked behind Perry’s truck. I smiled at the small handprints on the van’s windows.

It was a hot June day and tourists were flocking to the beach. I rolled down the windows and let the wind style my hair. As I drove past Wade’s real estate office, I noticed his jeep was there, so I stopped in. He was tickled to see me.

“Kerrie, come on in. What a surprise!”

“Hope you don’t mind me dropping by,” I said. Smiling, I watched him shuffle through papers looking for something.

“Actually, I’m glad you came by. You saved me a trip. I was going to drive over to the Pirate in a while.” He didn’t look up from his search. “Dagburnit! Where did I put that fellow’s name and number?”

“Perry’s sister and nephews are visiting. I decided to drive over to the mainland for the day. Since I saw that you were in, I wanted to stop by and say hi.”

“Sit down, baby doll. Excuse my manners. Kerrie, some guy called asking if I had rented a house to you for the summer. I played dumb but did take his number incase you showed up here.”

“What?” I asked in shock. Butterflies invaded my stomach. I knew who the caller was before he found the paper.

“Ah, here we go…David Harper. Do you know this fellow?” Wade handed me the paper.

I sighed. The day was now ruined. “Yes, I do. He’s someone from my past. I really don’t want him to find me, Wade.”

“Are hiding from something, Kerrie? Is this Harper man dangerous?”

“Just my past! Don’t worry; I’m not a fugitive. No, he isn’t dangerous. David isn’t one for letting go of anything. People change, relationships change.” I sighed again, not wanting to continue my thoughts. I rushed to reassure Wade. “When I gather my thoughts, I’ll deal with him. Right now, I need this time for me.”

“I haven’t asked many questions, Kerrie. My pa always told me that you couldn’t force a horse to drink. I figured you would tell me what you wanted me to know about your situation. If you are in danger, at least tell Perry about it. He’ll look out for you. Believe me, you can trust him!” Wade’s solemn expression was a rarity.

“Wade, it’s hard for me to talk about why I’m here, because I’m still figuring it out myself. I promise, I’ll call my editor and find out what David’s up too. And if I see that Perry needs to know about him, I’ll enlighten him.”

Wade sighed. “I’m not going to let this drop, Kerrie. I expect a report from you after you talk to your editor. Baby doll, I care about you. You’re the daughter I never had.”

My eyes misted. “You’re going to make me cry.” I reached over the desk to hug him.

“You best get going, if you plan to hit the mainland. The afternoon traffic is as bad as scales on a pinfish.” Wade walked me to the door. He watched as I drove away. I had the feeling he wouldn’t tell Perry, as long as I let him know that David Harper was under control. Little did he know that I wondered about that myself!

Chapter 10

The resonance of Wade’s voice in sotto voce tiptoed into my dreams, “…like a star in the sky.” A pregnant pause followed the voice, as it reverberated into nothing. The summer night was alive with starlight. A pale crescent moon drooped over the serene lapis ocean, which was decorated by frothy waves.

I watched a moonbeam fashion itself into a noose, to dangle off the edge of the crescent moon. A zephyr carried me to the beckoning swing of the noose. It seemed as if the stars danced wildly as I touched it with a shaking hand. The pregnant pause unnerved me. The evening air was so expectant, and I had no idea if I could live up to it. Maybe that was why the noose was there, to end the expectancy of a starry night’s dream.

I slipped my neck through the noose, wondering if Wade was right. Would I look like a star in the sky, as I swung from the noose, a pendulum of hopelessness? If someone accidentally wished upon my starlight, would their dream die, as I slowly did? As my life dimmed, I imagine the stars shone the brightest at that instant.

The sound of crying woke me. Rivulets of tears raced down my face, staining my pillow.
Afternoon shadows chased dust atoms, as I looked around the bedroom, trying to shake the lingering tuft of the nightmare. But it wouldn’t budge. I exorcised it the best way I knew how too—by writing it down on a notepad I kept by the bed.

I was more exhausted now, than when I first laid down to rest. Putting the kettle on the stove, I decided to make some hot tea while I transferred the dream to my laptop computer. Once I started typing, I didn’t look at the pad. The dream was branded on my memory’s flank. My fear, as I wrote was that I would give life to it by putting it into sentences.

The cottage was so quiet that I could hear the appliances singing their household tunes. The air was stifling. And the beach was calling, telling me it was time for a swim, so I changed into a swimsuit and grabbed a towel. Running down the walkway to the ocean, I willed my spirits to fly high with the sea gull that was disturbed by my mad dash to sanity.

Chapter 9

A few days passed before I asked Wade about Perry O’Brien. My curiosity about him was itching and I knew Wade would scratch it. He was quiet for a long moment, probably editing the story. A noontime sun smiled down at us, as we sat on the deck, enjoying lunch. I toyed with my napkin, trying not to appear too interested. From the first time we had lunch together, Wade hinted that Perry was a good catch. I didn’t need the pressure of a matchmaker right now. Wade took off his worn baseball cap, scratched his almost baldhead, and replaced the cap before he started the tale of Perry O’Brien.

“Well, doll baby, Perry is about your age, late 30’s I’m guessing. He’s proud of his Irish roots. Don’t know much about his family, except for a sister, who’s married and his deceased uncle, who raised them. I think his parents died when they were kids. Perry works from home doing some kind of Internet web stuff. He also owns the local gym. Don’t know if you noticed his muscles.” Wade gave me a knowing look. My face was a brighter shade of pink.

He laughed. Then a clanging from the boathouse, followed by a word that would shock a nun made Wade add, “He sure isn’t the best boat repairman. But he can hammer wood. This house is his design. He built it for his wife. I always wondered what he saw in her, because she is one cold fish-eyed woman. I think she wanted him to sale this place and give her the money when they divorced. But this is inherited land and he is no fool. He knows that one day this place will be worth a couple of million bucks. The island is beginning to grow. Soon, condos and other businesses will be invading our little oasis. But for now he lives in his boathouse and works from there. Perry keeps to himself—the silent type that’s there when you need him.”

As if knowing he was the topic of our conversation, Perry strolled towards us up the walkway. Wade waved to him, “Ahoy there, Perry!” Perry waved back. Watching his muscular body as he came towards us, I realized that I must have been feeling better in spirit as well as in body. I couldn’t take my eyes off his well-tuned muscular arms and chest. He sat in a chair across from me. Wade and I were finishing Caesar salads that I had prepared.

I asked, “Want a Caesar salad? I’ll leave out the seizure.” I joked. Both men laughed.

“I ate earlier, but thanks anyway,” he said.

We were all silent for a moment. Perry sat staring at me. I idly wondered if I had lettuce between my teeth and salad dressing on my chin. “You’re looking a lot better, woman,” he said.

Wade agreed, replying as if I was not there, “Yep, that she is. Her face doesn’t have that thin drawn look to it. She’s getting some meat back on them bones, ain’t she, Perry? Now she doesn’t look like one of them waif gals that model secret underwear. I swear, they are just too thin! Real men love women with some flesh on them.”

Perry laughed, “You mean Victoria’s Secret lingerie, Wade! Yes, she does look healthier. She is sporting the beginnings of a nice tan. Her hair’s got sun streaks. How much do women pay to get them at the salon?”

Wade nodded his head, “Yep mate, long streaky hair and nails. Polished and preened. Look at Kerrie’s eyes. She got a twinkle in them that never seem to leave anymore, like a star in the sky.”

I blushed, not used to being the topic of the lunch hour. I threw a money wrench in the works. “My, look at the time!” I said.

Wade who is always a day late for any appointment, jumped up and said, “Got to go. Ebb and I are going fishing. The spots are biting faster than fleas on a mangy mutt. Kerrie, keep Perry straight for me.” He kissed my forehead, “See you tomorrow. Perry, keep an eye on my doll baby. She is a special girl.”

Perry inclined his head at Wade, “Course she is—she’s your lunch time cook. Don’t worry about her. I always keep an eye out.”

Alone with Perry I was at a loss for what to say. He smiled, breaking the ice, “So, when are you and Wade planning on tying the knot?”

I laughed, “We are thinking about next year. Maybe getting married on Feb. 31 at 13 o’clock but only if the moon is passing through Virgo. Where shall I send your invitation?” I hadn’t felt this lighthearted in ages. Wade was rubbing of on me.

With a serious expression, I said, “I don’t know how I would have survived the last few weeks if Wade hadn’t of adopted me. He is a sweet kind man.”

Perry nodded. “He is right you know….” He let the sentence linger before completing it. His eyes on the crashing surf, he finished, “…the fish are biting.”

I frowned, “Wade never offers to take me fishing. As a greenhorn, I guess that I would be a distraction.”

Perry laughed, “Fishermen like Wade and Ole Ebb aren’t that serious about catching fish. They just like to get together and lie about the ones that got away. I’m talking about fish and women.”

I started clearing the table of the lunch dishes. Perry sat there, watching me. “I’m going to the market in a while. Do you need anything? My sister and the nephews are coming for the day tomorrow and I need to have plenty of junk food around, so the nephews won’t chew the furniture.”

“I don’t need anything. Thanks for asking though.” I smiled. “How old are the nephews?”

“Five and Seven! They usually try to drown me in the surf. They live about 60 miles inland. Well, I’m off. Take care.”

“See you later.” A few minutes later I heard the truck drive off. The thought of having children around made me sad and strangely lethargic. I decided to catch a nap, after I washed up the lunch plates.

Chapter 8

I didn’t see Perry for a few days, although from the boathouse, I heard banging and an occasional expletive. He did like he said he would and had the phone working again. I found a note taped to the back door with the new phone number written on it. Wade came every day like clockwork around lunchtime, which became a routine of laughter. He talked of all the big record-breaking fish that got away and of pirate ships sunken with chests filled with gold, silver and gems. Wade had the rare talent of story telling, weaving tales with his vivid imagination, and our time together was the highlight of my day.

With the notoriety of my books, I tried to keep a low profile on the island. When I ventured out, it was usually to a small mart close to the pier. It wasn’t stocked with many exotic foods, but it did have a find selection of vegetables and fruit. But most importantly it carried the Charlotte newspaper. I made sure to get the Sunday addition. Keeping up with book reviews was very important to me.

Books! I had taken time away from writing, but knew that my muse must return or I would be checking out customers at the local grocery store. I decided to make myself write something daily, even if it was just a sentence or a phrase. Once the right opening line appeared, I would soon be enmeshed in a story and wouldn’t stop until the words “the End” were reached.

One morning not long after the day Perry rescued me, as I was sitting on the deck looking out at the ocean, waiting for the Goddess of Words to breathe down on me, my cell phone rang. I didn’t want to answer it, but knew I should. I hadn’t been in contact with anyone since I left Charlotte.

“Hello?” I whispered into the phone.

“Darling, how are your fingers?” It was Gene Michaels, my editor.

“My fingers? They’re fine, why?” I asked puzzled.

“I thought they were broken, because you haven’t called me, since you left the city and you swore that you would call, as soon as you were settled in.”

“Oh, I forgot,” I said sheepishly, because I really had.

There was a lull in the conversation, a pregnant pause, as Gene waited for me to say something. I found I had nothing to say and the thought unnerved me.

“Well? How are you? Did you make it there in one piece? Are you resting, like Dr. Wilton asked? Why haven’t you called anyone? We’ve been worried sick? Are you writing?” And so the flood of questions began.

“Gene…”I tried to interrupt. “Gene…I’m…Gene.” Then at the top of my lungs, I shouted, “Gene will you shut up for a moment!”

My voice carried on the wind, disturbing sea gulls and causing Perry to emerge from the boathouse. I felt my face flame, as he shielded his eyes to look up at me on the balcony.

“Look Gene, I can’ talk right now. I’m fine and I promise I’ll call you tomorrow. Now isn’t good a good time to talk.” Perry was coming my way, taking the steps two at a time.

“You can’t run for long, Kerrie. Don’t you realize that? At least give David a call. He’s driving me barmy with his continuous phone calls, demanding to know where you are.”

I felt my heart freeze. In a frosty voice that I couldn’t control, I replied, “I’m fine. When I feel stronger, I’ll call David, but for now he is not to know where I am. Is that clear?”

Gene sighed heavily. “As you wish, darling. Call me tomorrow morning. I need to talk with you about some publishing issues. Nothing pressing, but they do need taking care of.”

“I promise I’ll call. Bye for now.” I clicked off the phone, as Perry reached the deck.

“Is there a problem?” He asked, while his huckleberry blue eyes tried to see inside my head.

“Nothing’s wrong. My editor sometimes doesn’t listen and I have to shout to get through his selective hearing problem.”

“You’re a writer? Wade said you were a career woman, but didn’t elaborate.”

I tensed, as I realized a wrong comment would send out red flags. I didn’t feel up to explaining who I was and why I was on the island hiding.

“Yes, I’m a freelance writer, and have the opportunity to submit stories, articles and essays to many publications.”

He seemed satisfied with the statement, but I felt his probing look as he watched my face. “You are a mystery woman, aren’t you?” He didn’t wait for an answer, as he pointed to my lap top computer. “I see that you’re working, so I’ll let you return to it. Sorry to bother you. You’re usually quiet as a mouse in here.” Perry fought back a smile, “But I see there’s a tiger lurking inside.”

Before I could reply, he was gone.

Chapter 7

The tide reached for us as he stepped onto the stairwell to the walkway. He paused, looking down at the seawater caressing the wooden steps and said, “See how high the tide gets. Make sure that you keep an eye on it when you’re out. Next time I might not be watching.”

He carried me inside the house, depositing me onto the couch. “You're pale. Do you need anything?”

I hated to admit that I was in agony but why should I play the heroine. “Yes, thank you. I have some pain pills in an orange medicine bottle in the bathroom on the sink. Can you bring them to me?”

He did in record time, pausing only to get me some water. He hovered over me as I took them. Taking the water from me, he said, “Lie down and rest. I’ll check on you in a while.”

He was opening the door, when I said, “Thank you, Perry. I am sorry for being so much trouble. I’ll be more careful next time. I promise.”

An unreadable expression briefly passed across his usually stoic face. “It was no bother. You need to be more careful and slow down, woman. You have lots of time to cover the beach. Don’t try to do it on one afternoon.” He left. It didn’t take long for the pain pills sedative effects to kick in. I slept.

I awoke hours later with fresh tears on my cheeks from crying in my sleep. The horrible nightmare had returned to haunt me. I threw back the blanket that someone had placed over me while I slept. I noticed the darkening sky. Dusk was upon me. I wiped my face in my sleeve, trying to shake the terrible feeling of loss that had crept into every pore of my being.

“That was some dream that you had.” Perry’s voice in the darkening room startled me.

“Holy Mother of Saint Peter,” I said, “Scare me, will you?”

“Sorry. Do you dream like that every time you take those pills?”

I lied, “I don’t remember dreaming, so I don’t know the answer to that question. I’m keeping you from your work, aren’t I?” I said rudely, wanting to be alone.

But my tone didn’t sway him. “No, you aren’t. I’ve stopped for the day. I’m cooking clam chowder. I don’t think that you need to cook super. You’re still pale, and one sandwich a day is enough. Give me thirty minutes and I will bring you some of the chowder. It's simmering now.”

I started to protest, but my stomach made a rumble much like Wade’s had at lunch. He laughed, “The body doesn’t lie, woman. See you in thirty.”

I stood up slowly when he left. The pain was gone but I felt drained from the effects of the drug. A shower would revive me. I quickly took a hot one. I dressed in jeans and a sweater. The night air had a chill in it, so I wrapped a blanket around me and sat cross-legged Indian style on the couch. I was brushing my hair when Perry returned carrying a huge thermos full of the promised chowder.

“You’re looking better,” he said, after a moment of intense inspection.

“I feel better. Showers work miracles,” I replied with a hint of a smile. He took the chowder into the kitchen.

Returning to the den, he commented. “I left the chowder on the kitchen counter. I’ll get the thermos later. Don’t need it anytime soon.”

I nodded, “Thanks for everything.”

His solid frame seemed to fill the room. He humorously said, “You know, for a woman you don’t talk a lot.”

I laughed, “No, I guess I don’t. I found out years ago that men don’t listen, so why waste the energy.”

He smiled, “Woman, you’re right. Goodnight.” Then he was gone and I was alone with the chowder, which was surprising good.

Chapter 6

After I cleaned up the lunch debris, I decided to venture on a short examination of the beach.
Since it was early summer, the weather was still mild. The midday sun shone brightly, so I grabbed my straw hat. I walked down the wooden walkway, passing the boathouse. Perry was nowhere to be seen. Silence surrounded the sailboat. “Must be siesta time,” I thought, as I climbed down the stairs to the alabaster sand.

The beach was deserted. Shells lay scattered at the tide’s edge, creating abstract mosaic pattterns. I walked slowly, as sea birds danced in the air. The ocean was a tranquil gray with a few boats dotted on the horizon. The sun played peek-a-boo with feathery white clouds. I headed towards the deserted north end of the beach. Perry’s house was the last one on this section of strand.

Enchanted by the post card images of the island, I followed the beach, watching the sandpipers, as they foraged for small shellfish hiding in the wet sand. The birds would run towards the receding tide, to quickly dig in the sand, gobbling down tiny shells with their tasty morsels hidden within. Then they would comically run back as fast as they could with the returning tide at the heels of their webbed feet. The sand dunes were robust with sea grass scattered around them. I saw a multitude of little holes where small land crabs scurried back and forth.

I glanced back towards the cottage. I was amazed that it was now a dot on the horizon. Noting that the tide was creeping in, I headed back home. As I walked, the warm sun danced on my skin and the surf calmed my spirit. I was glad that I had come to this beach. Nature was embraced me, welcomed me and soothed me. Sea birds glided and cawed to each other, as I strolled back.

I was halfway back, when a sharp pulling sensation in my torso caused me to stop. “Oh no,” I thought, “I’ve over done it again.” I had walked to far out while feeling energetic and had forgotten that I would also feel exhaustion easily. I slowed my pace to almost a turtle crawl. I walked another twenty feet, when I knew that I had to stop for a while. I sat in the sand, hugging myself, while watching the tide as it eased closer.

The scattering of sandpipers caused me to look down the shore towards the cottage. Perry was jogging briskly towards me. He quickly covered the distance. Barely panting, he dropped beside me in the sand, “Are you okay? I saw you fall. I thought you had fainted again.”

I answered weakly, “Just ran out of steam. I walked further than I meant to.”

“The tide is rolling in. Soon there won’t be any beach left to walk on. High tide stops at the bottom of the dunes. Come on, I’ll carry you,” he said.

Ignoring my protests, he lifted me with ease. He held me gingerly, as if I were made of glass and would break. He smelled lightly of sweat and motor oil with a hint of orange. We covered the distance to the cottage in no time.

Chapter 5

Wade was true to his word. He showed up at lunchtime two days later, to see if I needed anything. I had just finished the last of my unpacking and was making tuna salad sandwiches. “You look like a new rosebud today,” he said.

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, I smiled, “Thank you, Wade. I slept through most of yesterday. I feel extremely refreshed today. Have you been fishing?”

He laughed heartily, “Yep, I went this morning bright and early. Ebb and I caught a big mess of spots. I’ll bring you some if you like. They done been cleaned and filleted.”

“That would be nice. Fresh fish sound delicious. You are so sweet. I could use some brain food,” I joked.

I heard a rumble. I noticed Wade eyeing my sandwich. “Was that your stomach, Wade? Please excuse my manners. Would you like a sandwich?” I asked.

Wade reached for bread. “Don’t mind if I do. I didn’t realize I was hungry until my belly scolded me.”

He made a few sandwiches. We took them outside to eat on the deck, while the sun smiled down on us. As we ate, we could hear Perry working on his sailboat. When the banging stopped, Wade called out, “Ahoy there, Perry!”

He appeared from the shelter, wearing a blue tank top and cut off denim shorts with a red bandana tied around his head pirate style. All he needed was an earring and an eye patch. Wiping his dirty hands in a cloth, he came up to the deck where we were sitting. He and Wade made small talk about fishing and other small town gossip. As they chatted, I made a sandwich for Perry. He graciously nodded to me, as he bit into it.

He raised an eyebrow, “Not bad, woman!” Then, he returned to conversation with Wade. I wondered why hid approval pleased me.

I studied Perry as the two men talked. He had the deepest blue eyes I had ever seen, huckleberry blue. As a writer, one tends to invent color of uniqueness for a story’s characters, and I was glad to know that there actually was a living breathing being who possessed huckleberry blue eyes. His dirty blonde hair was straight, wispy and almost shoulders length. He had a blonde goatee, which was trimmed and neatly shaped. His physique was toned; with rippling muscles—yet his movement embraced the grace of a Tae Bo master.

My pale blue eyes moved from his sculptured flesh to his face to find those dark eyes upon me. “I’m having the phones in the cottage turned back on tomorrow. I don’t want you here without the ability to connect to Planet Earth. I’ll let you know what the number will be once I get it,” he said.

“You don’t have to do that." I said. “I have a cellular phone.”

He replied dryly, “We have many dead areas out here, where you might not get service for your cell phone. I’ll feel better if you have a working telephone. Also, I noticed your lap top computer. You might need to access the Internet, if you’re hooked up for it.”

He was right. All homes needed a phone just encase of an emergency. “Thank you,” I simply said.

Wade, looking at his watch declared, “Lords be! I’m going to be late for my appointment.” He kissed my forehead, “Kerrie, I will swing by on the morrow. Perry, Ebb and I are fishing later this afternoon at the pier if you want to join us. Ebb swears that them spots are going to be running.”

Perry declined, “Thanks but I got too much work to do here.” To me, he nodded, “The sandwich was delicious. Thanks for lunch. Have a good day.”

I watched him return to his boat and his banging, thinking how of stone he seemed to be carved. Wade shook his head, “That man needs to get out sometime. Will you be all right?”

I smiled, “Lunch tomorrow?”

“You’re on, doll baby!” Then he was gone.

Chapter 4

I woke up to laughter. Rubbing my eyes and stretching, I tried to get my orientation. I looked out the window to see where the laughter was originating. Perry was on the walkway feeding sea gulls. Their caws sounded like laughter. He had a fresh-showered look, dressed in a pale blue sweatshirt and jeans. Oh yes, I was at the beach now. My drive, Wade and the fainting spell I had all came back to me. It was early evening, right at dusk. I must have slept at least five hours. No wonder I was refreshed. Crawling for under the covers, the cool air caressed my arms. I grabbed a sweater and walked outside.

Sitting in a chair on the deck, I watched the laughing birds fly away to their roosting places, as the sun continued to sink and the moon started to rise. Unmindful of me, Perry strolled down the walkway to the beach. I was relieved because I wasn’t in the mood for polite conversation. It felt wonderful to be able to enjoy peace and quiet after years of dead lines and commitments.

The evening star twinkled at me, as I sat on the deck. I pondered nothingness, my mind a blank canvas, as I concentrated in a hypnotic state on the evening star. My mind went into automatic reply of the past six months. The haunting cries of help that echoed, the sensation of spiraling downwards…It was like I was stuck in a time warp, knowing I shouldn’t go there, yet unable to stop myself. I don’t know how long I sat silent and still, as time is not. I don’t know how long I would have sat there, if Perry’s return from his evening romp to the beach hadn’t of broken my concentration. His boathouse rocked to the sound of heavy metal music in its unrelenting metallic tones, screeching and clawing at ears.

Total darkness had descended upon me, while I wasn’t looking. His place was blazing with light. I could see inside since he hadn’t drawn the curtains. There was a weight bench and its accompanying barbells in one bare room. In another, I saw a computer on a desk. Perry walked into that room wearing only what looked like red jockey briefs. They melded to his form. I shamelessly watched him move around from room to room. Once, he stopped short, freezing in place like a deer at the edge of a forest, sensing hunters near. He slowly looked towards the window. I tried to shrink into the shadows, afraid that he would think that I was spying on him, a peeping Tomette. He looked out the window for what seemed like an eon, before turning his attention to his computer. I took this opportunity to sneak into the house. I had gotten sleepy again. I privately whispered good night to no one and fell into a heavy slumber.

Chapter 3

The cold sensation of a wet cloth on my forehead was my first conscious awareness of my surroundings. For a confused moment, I thought I was still in the hospital. I heard men talking in hushed voices. “I can’t have a fainting woman around here. What if she falls down the stairs or drowns herself in the bathtub. Sorry Wade, but I’m changing my mind,” a haughty masculine voice said.

Wade replied, “Perry, look mate, she drove a lot of hours to get here. She told me on the phone that she has been ill and that her doctor recommended that she take a vacation. She’s a real sweet lady once you get to know her. I’ll check on her every day. Come on, you can’t go back on your word, mate.”

I interrupted from the couch that they had laid me upon, “I’m okay now. I just overdid it with the driving. Not eating breakfast didn’t help either.”

Wade rushed over to help ease me into a sitting position. He hugged me tightly, “Missy, you feeling better? You gave me a fright that took twenty years off my life, fainting like you did.”

I smiled at him weakly; “I am fine. Really—I am.”

Looking over at the tall blonde man who stood as if made of stone, I tried to reassure him. My eyes roamed his massive chest, noticing that he had put on a denim work shirt, which he left unbuttoned. “Mr. O’Brien I presume. I don’t often go around fainting. You don’t have to worry about me causing any problems, because I won’t be any trouble. I was involved in an accident in Charlotte a month ago. I need recuperation and rest, but am no great health risk. I promise.”

He stood scratching his goatee, mulling over what I had said for a few minutes. Finally he spoke, “No problem, miss. I can’t help but be a little worried. I am responsible for whoever rents from me.”

The men exchanged looks before Perry finally said, “So do you pack like most women and have a hundred bags for me to carry inside?”

Wade let out a long sigh of relief. “I’ll help you, Mate,” he said to Perry O’Brien. To me while patting my knee fatherly fashion, he said, “Now Missy, you lie back and rest while we men bring your bags indoor.”

Who was he kidding? Like most women, I was not going to let two men lug my suitcases and bags into the house without proper feminine supervision.

Working in tag-team format, they had my things unloaded in no time. I over heard Wade tell Perry that he wished his old lady traveled as lightly. My laptop computer was the heaviest item. Perry laid it on the kitchen dinette table.

“I think that’s everything,” he said. “You’ll find towels and linen in the hallway closet. I had a lady clean this place thoroughly this morning. She comes to clean every Thursday. So you don’t have to worry about a lot of housework while you’re here. Please put your trash in the green barrel under the carport on Tuesday morning, because that’s when the garbage collector comes by. Guess that’s all. I’ll let Wade handle the rest.” With that comment, he left to return to his boathouse.

Wade smiled at me, “Don’t worry. He ain’t as tough as he acts. He’ll be close by, quiet as a mouse but there if you need him. Girlie, you look like you could eat the south end of a northbound jackass. Come on, I am a-taking you to lunch.”

I let him drive my car to a diner on the other side of the island. We had soup and salad. As we ate, I watched in amusement as Wade showed me off to the locals who were there and curious to whom I was and why I was with him. After our meal, he drove me to his office where we signed papers and took care of the legal end of my stay at Perry O’Brien’s Irish Pirate. The last stop in town was for supplies and food. I got enough to last several days. Exhaustion was overtaking me; I knew that I would need a few days to recover from the grueling drive to the coast. Wade got me settled in the cottage. Before leaving, he promised to check on me in a day or so and for me to get some sleep. I heeded his advice and took a long nap.

Chapter 2

I followed his rusty jeep, feeling like a donkey pulling a cart with a carrot dangling in front of it. I was getting overly tired but willed myself to keep the pace. The drive was a good ten minutes from his office. The island was bigger than I had originally thought. The salt air cleansed my lungs, as the nearly noontime sun danced across the lucid ocean surface. We passed Beecher’s Marina. The pier was very long and from the quick glimpse I took, looked full of fishermen. To my surprise, the part of the island that we were driving down was sparsely populated. The cottages were scattered with sand dunes separating them. I found myself smiling gleefully. It had been years since I had taken time away from life’s steady pace. An island getaway was the perfect solution to my problems and what the doctor prescribed.

Finally, Wade pulled into the driveway of a beautifully constructed beach house. I was speechless; this couldn’t be the place as it was not a cottage—it was a mansion There was no way that I would be able to afford this. I might be a popular novelist, but lately my finances were strained. The ivory two-story house was raised up on piles, giving it a three floor effect. “Irish Pirate” was etched on a piece of driftwood and nailed to the second level front deck. I was amazed at the amount of French windows all around the house, as hurricanes were notorious in this stretch of North Carolina. A pirate flag with skull and cross bones flew cavalierly from the highest peak. The space underneath the piles was covered with concrete and used as a garage by a huge white four-wheel drive truck, most likely belonging to the owner of the place.

Wade jumped out of the jeep. Opening my car door, he offered me his hand, as I continued to stare open mouth at the magnificent place. He grinned, “Do you like it?”

“It’s a mansion and so bravura. I don’t think that I’ll be able to afford this, Wade,” I said, sadly.

His grin got bigger, as he answered, “That’s the beauty of the whole situation. Perry’s going rent it to you for the same price as the other place. Now, come on, honey. Time for a tour.” He held my hand as if I was a child, urging me along.

I could barely make it up the stairs to the first level and was grateful for Wade’s hold on me. He rambled on about how much I was going to love the place. Blocking him out, I concentrated on moving my weary body. The interior of the cottage was immaculate and professionally decorated, pleasing to the eye.

The first level had a kitchen and dinette area with a sliding glass door that opened to a deck. The floor was made of Spanish tile in a green moss color. There was a small bedroom right off the living room area, which held a large screen TV and an elaborate entertainment center with a stereo sound system. The long couch was luxurious beige, which complimented the abundance of wicker chairs and end tables. The coffee table had an array of various magazines from sports to beauty/fashion. Down the little hall was a bedroom with a walk in closet and full bath. The décor was more feminine, a modest rose pink color scheme. It was charmingly decorated. As I glanced at the queen-sized bed, I longed for a nap.

On the upper floor was a huge master bedroom. The massive heavy oak furniture intimidated me. The bed was king-sized with dark royal blue and burgundy colors on the comforter. There was a masculine blend within the room that seemed isolated in the quaintness of the whole beach house. Assaulted by subliminal testosterone messages, I felt as if I were stepping into a foreign territory the brief time we were in the room. The master bedroom also possessed a sliding glass door that opened onto the second level deck. Wade showed me the recreation room where the hot tub was located. I blocked out the rest of the tour as I tried to keep focused on moving. I felt as if I would faint at any moment.

Wade ushered me onto the first level deck, which faced the gray ocean. The deck had a stairwell that started at the bottom of a wooden walkway almost like a pier, going past a smaller cottage, which housed a sailboat under a shelter on its left side. It ended with a series of steps leading, no doubt to the beach. I assumed that this cottage was the “boat house” that Wade kept referring to. A series of expletives rang from an area close to the sailboat.

He called out, “Ahoy there, Perry!” Three sea gulls with black heads flew by laughing, as he called again. “Ahoy, there!”

A tall man emerged from behind the sailboat with a wrench in his hand. The late morning sun glinted off his tanned sweaty muscular chest. I briefly thought, “This man wears sweat better than most men wear expensive cut Italian suits.” As we stood looking down at the 6-foot tall shirtless man with dirty blonde hair, he struck the side of the sailboat with the wrench. Wearing faded denim shorts and sneakers, he waved the wrench in a salute to Wade’s avid greeting. The intense sun shone brightly from behind him. I couldn’t see his face because of the glare, but I felt the sharp hawk-like look that he gave us.

I suddenly found my world starting to fade as I tried to steady myself by holding onto the rail of the deck. My vision clouded. With my ears ringing, I fainted, as my weakened body finally gave out.

Chapter 1

“I’ve gone fishing! Be back directly, unless a fish catches me,” read the sign taped to the door of the Beach Comber’s Realty Company. The spiky handwriting on the paper seemed out of place under the manicured company name. I tried the door anyway and found it was indeed locked. “Just like a redneck,” I thought, “close the door on a dollar when he spies a shiny penny on the floor.”

I looked at my wristwatch, knowing that I wasn’t late. In fact, I was twenty minutes earlier than the appointed time, which was for 10 am. I was there to sign the lease agreement on an ocean front cottage that I planned to rent from May to August. This quaint Carolina beach, which was located on a small island off the North Carolina mainland, seemed an ideal place to vacation.

The grueling five-hour drive, through miles of deserted roads and swamps had exhausted me. My bones felt as if they made of heavy lead pipes. I stood debating about what to do when a horn sounded from a rust-covered blue jeep pulling into the drive. Three salt-water fishing rods were sitting shotgun in the vacant passenger seat, while a sun wrinkled elderly man tipped his well-worn baseball cap at me.

“How do, young lady? Wade Holcomb here at your service.” He had the charm of a southern man, warm as the sun on a chilly autumn day.

I smiled politely, resisting the urge to curtsy. “I’m Kerrie Rosewood. It is a delightful pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Holcomb. I feel as if I’ve known you forever. Being able to put a face with the voice is wonderful.”

He sheepishly grinned, “Sorry about the wait, but ole Ebb down at the pier called and said the fish were biting like fleas on a mangy mutt. I couldn’t help myself. You been waiting long?”

His friendliness charmed me. “No sir, I just pulled up. In fact, I’m a little early. Did you catch a ton of fish?”

He shooed me inside his office. “Naw, time I wet my hook, they done swam away. Have a seat there, honey.” He pointed at a cushioned wicker chair in front of his desk, which was a scattered hodgepodge of keys, brochures and business cards. Curiously, I watched him as he shuffled through his array of objects, mumbling to himself as he did. I idly wondered if the whole community was like him, nonchalant about schedules and the time. It crossed my mind that I could be making a mistake. I wanted to get away from the harsh demands of city life for a while to recuperate physically and mentally, but I didn’t want to get stuck in the land before time either.

When Mr. Holcomb grinned at me after he found his lost treasure, I was charmed again, and dismissed my previous qualm. “Well, I got some good news for you, Miss Rosewood! Do you remember that cottage with the sundeck that I told you about on the phone? The one that’s close to the pier and Beecher’s Marina?”

I nodded my head, “Yes, sir, the one that’s available to rent for three months. The sundeck is not that important, nor its location. I just want a decent place to stay in while I’m on vacation, as long as it’s close to the ocean the locale doesn’t matter.”

Mr. Holcomb looked like the cat that had eaten the prize canary. “That place ain’t available no more.”

Sardonically, I arched an eyebrow, “Is this the good news, Mr. Holcomb?”

He continued, “I know that don’t sound too good but it is! You see, I had my eye on another place for you, but I couldn’t talk Perry O’Brien, the fellow who owns it, to rent the place to you. He doesn’t live in it since his wife divorced him six months ago. He stays in the boathouse that he built out back of it. Honey, that cottage has a fireplace, three bedrooms, two decks and a hot tub. It is a doll baby of a place, believe ole Wade!”

He paused for a moment, scratching his chin, “When I found out that the marina cottage wasn’t available, I high-tailed it over to Perry’s and hammered him until he agreed to rent the cottage. He’s tough as whitleather but I wore him down. I told him that you were a respectable professional from Charlotte.”

He winked, “Don’t worry, I didn’t tell him that you were a famous romance writer. Lords Be, that would a scared him right into the ocean. I bet that rascal would swim all the way to England, and never miss a stroke. He is woman shy since his wife divorced him for alienation of affection. I never heard tell of that. Most women are usually glad they don’t have to fulfill them wifely duties. All of mine did!”

How can any woman resist all this charm? I laughed, “Mr. Holcomb, thank you for being such a sweetheart, and going to a great deal trouble to find me a place to rent. I know that it has been a tough job, especially since the summer tourist season has started.”

He agreed, “Yep, most cottage owners can make more renting week to week than they can month to month. But you don’t have that problem. Wait till you see this place, Missy. It has everything that you will need. Let’s go look at it, but first you got to do one thing.” He gave me a very stern look, “You are to call me Wade. Mr. Holcomb was my father.”

I smiled, “Okay, Wade, lets go!” I was anxious to see this place and get settled into it.

Prologue

Ninety miles off the North Carolina coast brewed an intricate organized system of strong thunderstorms. It began as a tropical depression but steadily grew into the adolescent form of a hurricane, known to the world as a tropical storm. This one rested briefly over an isolated section of the Atlantic Ocean, building in strength. The tropical storm’s circulation soon was well defined and the maximum sustained winds moved slowly at 34 to 50 knots towards the coast of one of the small islands that rest along the coast of North Carolina. At this point, the tropical storm was given a name: David.

Introduction to the Novel

Back in November of 2003 during the NaNoWriMon org challenge (National novel writing month--is November, btw), I wrote the first draft of The Irish Pirate. I had the story in my head and it rolled off my fingers. So the challenge wasn't much of a challenge, because I knew my story. But I will confess time was the challenge--finding it to write. But I did it. I finished the novel on Nov 30 at 54, 000 words. The goal was for 50 K.

But this past year, I didn't manage to finish my novel. Mainly due to time restraints but also, the story is more intricate with many more characters than in the Irish Pirate. I stopped writing it and have been doing research for the plot when the mood strikes.

Why am I back to this novel? Good question. I realized recently that I have a novel prepped and semi-ready for publication. Why continue to write a new novel, when I need to polish this one off! Since I need a distraction, I decided to work on this novel. To give myself some encouragement, I'm posting the process here in this blog.

Ocassionally you'll find a comment from me regarding a section. Some of the novel was inspired by a person, or a conversation or event in my life. To give the novel more depth I thought these little tidbits would enrich it. BTW, if I by chance misspell a word or misplace one, please let me know. I can proof all I want and still find a way to miss something.

Now on to more interesting paragraphs...

The name of the novel was stolen from an online site I was a member of for about a year. The Irish Pirate was a user name of one of the male members. His profile was unique. He wanted to move to the Florida Keys, repair boats and write science fiction. His real name was Terry. I changed the hero's name to Perry though. I think what struck me about this person was the fact he seemed so real in a cyber environment. I made notes and waited for a story to appear.

The place where the novel takes place is in North Carolina. The area I had in mind for the story is a mixture of Carolina Beach, Lake Kure and some of the other islands close to the NC/SC border. The places in my mind are real and I hope they transfer to paper with the same vividness.