Laura and Bill’s Story

“Laura and Bill’s Story”, just published on the blog. The last 7 pages of this story went through no less than ten different revisions. The ending remained the same throughout the revisions. The journey to the end was the real challenge. I knew how I wanted it to end, but the road to it, was what presented the difficulties.

The ending is almost all dialog, which I’ve struggled with, yet feel gratified, when I get it right. It was an exercise for me to try and make it perfect. Try to make up your own characters and get them to talk, but make them like real people. Seriously, try it sometime. I’m sure there are areas that still need improvement.

I had at least 8 different endings envisioned, originally. Instead of making everyone wait, I thought it better to simply publish. I went with my best ending out of the eight and let the cards fall will they will. There is a Version number after all, so I can always update it later.

I’m always interested in comments, feedback, and constructive criticism. Plus as I teased in my last blog post, I’d be interested to know if anyone can pick out the character that I most enjoyed writing. Drop me a comment, public or private, if you think you know. I’ll tally any results and drop a post in a few weeks.

For anyone that is interested, this will publish on Lit, soon.

Enjoy the story. And thanks for reading!

Sneak Previews

Heartless

Prologue

I didn’t consider myself cold or heartless. Looking over the lifeless body of my husband, suggested I reassess. He didn’t stir. Although I knew he was drugged, he had no life as I watched him breathe laboriously. He was close, but still warm to the touch.

The Grandfather clock sounded four. I had already surmised it was four in the morning from the frogs croaking in the backyard pond. The backyard my husband James and I had built since we moved into this house, over twenty years ago. I was wide awake.

I sent a text to Tomas, indicating everything was on schedule. He responded almost immediately with an acknowledgement and uncharacteristic heart emoji; something he’d never done before. He had been anxiously awaiting my text, I presumed. It steadied my already racing heart.

The hardest part was over. My spirits turned more positive as my heart rate calmed. Tomas’s tasks were just beginning. I left the master bedroom headed towards the garage snatching my suitcase which had been packed weeks ago from the front hall closet. There were no tears, not even a tug at distant heartstrings as I exited my house. I’d be back in my house in a few weeks, but James wouldn’t.

Did I feel guilty? Not in the least. Was I regretful? Not at all. I was actually excited with anticipation of Tomas joining me in Saint-Martin.

*****

Chapter 1

The house on Saint-Martin was almost exactly as described on the rental website. To my surprise it was even better. The views from the house on the white sand beach located on the French side of the island were absolutely stunning as they lead to crystal clear turquoise ocean water. The gulls diving in the water for baitfish steered my thoughts to fishing with my father off the Maine coast in summer. I briefly wondered what my father would think of me now.

After settling, I made a list of groceries and contacted the rental agent. The welcome bottle of Champagne already on ice was a nice touch I thought. The provisions showed up a few hours later.

After changing into a modest one-piece bathing suit, I ventured into the ocean. Looking back at the pale-blue two-story stucco house from the ocean, I wondered how Tomas was doing. I hadn’t really thought about what I’d left in Massachusetts, after I boarded the plane for my early morning flight. It wasn’t that the past caused me anguish; it was no longer mine to consider or manage. Tomas had signed up for the tough parts.

Frolicking in the ocean, cleansing my body and soul of the past twenty-four hours of anxiety, was welcome therapy. I hadn’t realized how much stress I’d been carrying in my shoulders and neck. I needed a good massage. A quick text to the rental agent, and I had a massage scheduled for tomorrow at nine.

Feeling better after a rinse in the pool, I sent a text to Tomas. “Hope all is on plan. Can’t wait until you arrive tomorrow afternoon.” I didn’t receive a reply, nor was it expected. I sent a second text with a heart emoji wondering, if I’d receive a reply.

*****

I fixed a salad and topped it with some cold chicken from my stock of recently delivered supplies. I poured a very healthy glass of Pinot Gris to accompany my meal on the patio overlooking the pool and ocean. It was a glorious evening and the stars were just starting to make their appearance. When I left Boston, the temperature was a bitter twenty-two degrees, typical of December. The temperature tonight, was a blissful seventy-eight degrees.

After dinner and another generous serving of wine, I started feeling sleepy and decided to prepare for bed. It had been a long day. The master bedroom linens were luxurious and I relished their thread count against my naked body. I’d only wished I had a warm man to share it with.

In the early morning hours, I awoke startled to a noise, perhaps from the open slider. The ocean breeze was all the air conditioning I had needed. It might have been a gull or other bird, possibly even a porpoise or whale breaching, which produced the out of character noise to my ears.

I was awake, listening, not moving, wondering, if I’d locked the front door. I heard nothing further for several minutes and remained still but tense. Closing and locking the sliders was a consideration, but the breeze was glorious. Just as I was relaxing while drifting off to sleep, I heard the distinctive click of the front door being opened.

My heart rate immediately spiked. My flight or fight instincts kicked in immediately. I searched my memory for what I could use as a weapon, without moving a muscle. I came up with nothing but a hair brush in the bathroom—too far to reach now. My nail file wasn’t even metal, which allowed me to pass through airport security unencumbered.

I was facing the sliding glass doors in a fetal position to catch nature’s air conditioning, with only a light sheet around me. Naked, exposed, without a weapon, I felt helpless. The nearest neighbor on this part of the beach was over a half a mile away. They wouldn’t hear a scream much less a mild disturbance, with the ocean breezes camouflaging any struggle.

I considered making a run for the ocean through the slider, and sprinting up the beach for help. It was looking like my only option when I caught a brief but familiar scent. With the wind ruffling the curtains, the smell was upon me one moment and gone the next. I gambled my olfactory senses were accurate.

What I had hoped I smelled was Tomas’s cologne. His tart citrusy scent was clean, yet distinctive when mixed with his pheromones. I desperately wanted it to be Tomas. He wasn’t due to arrive until later in the afternoon, which puzzled and disoriented me. I remained completely still in bed, praying it was Tomas.

After what seemed like an eternity, the bed groaned slightly from the weight of someone sitting down on the opposite side. I rolled over as if ready to pounce like a cat on my prey, when I spotted Tomas’s light blue eyes, sparkling in the moonlight and drank in his scent. I was both relieved and perturbed simultaneously. His appearance now, wasn’t part of the plan.

“I’m sorry my love, I didn’t want to startle or awaken you. I guess I failed on both accounts,” Tomas said quietly. He had seen the look in my eyes, my hands balled into fists and my longing upon recognizing it was him.

“I’m just glad you’re here. Hold me,” I returned, as I pulled the sheet up and greeted him in my bed in all my glory.

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