Work is working!
And so am I
If I stood back and looked at where my life is at the moment it might seem like I’m caught up in a whirlpool. Family issues brings children and grandchildren back into my too-small house, but this time we’ve all adjusted to the temporary situation and I think it’s going to definitely be for the better.
What really surprises me is that, in this chaos, I’ve started not just one project, but FOUR. I’ve never worked on more than one project at a time, but it’s actually giving me more writing energy than I thought I had!
I’m just thankful I have a house these kids can come back to when they need it. My husband and I have been a stable influence on their lives. It’s a good thing.
Projects I’m working:
Hoarfrost to Roses as a omnibus. Yes it will be a Kickstarter so I’m working on the video in bits and pieces. I still need to write the script. One thing that’s harder to write than a short blurb for a story is a short blurb for a series! I’m getting practice. Can’t say I’ve succeeded yet!
After going through the first book again and editing it, I realize just how much fun I had writing this story. Grai and his ghost have captured my heart again. What fun conversations they have with each others. The idea is that Grai, who was brutally stabbed and left for dead, is rescued by his spirit and brought to his grandfather’s estate which was destroyed by an earthquake and fire. There' he’s hiding out. Adele, who lives with her uncle next door, and who has her own tragedies to overcome, finds them. Now Grai’s ghost is the tender, emotional part of Grai, whereas Grai in the flesh is cynicle and about to give up on life. His spirit tries to comfort him by revitalizing the beautiful roses in the garden with a magical touch of the spiritual. (Hence, the title Hoarfrost to Roses). Adele witnesses this magic and curiously trespasses onto the property, where Grai’s ghost finds her lovely and charming. Grai has his doubts. He’s afraid that his murderers might return and finish him off and grab the much coveted estate. His ghost tried to convince him to fall in love with Adele or to at least let her nurse his wounds.
Of course, the mystery is they need to find out who his would-be murderers are before they return and finish him off, grab the property and sell it to the railroad. This is all based on history of 1879 Port Townsend, WA.
Here’s a little tidbit.
Grai spread out on the bed and let his mind slip into a vegetative state, a defense mechanism he practiced when he found himself alone, away from Grai the spirit. Not only did daydreaming keep away the agony of knowing his family wanted him dead—but helped to relieve his physical pain. The longer he sat in the dark and was inattentive, the better he could manage life. So, he stared at the shadows on the rock walls that were cast by the lantern, listened to the silence that only a dugout could imprison, and felt the heaviness of the earth embrace him. He remained there, in this asylum he created, for the entire night. The darkness not only penetrated his environment, but his soul as well.
As if such despair had the shrillness of a ship’s whistle, his spirit answered the call and rushed into the root cellar, filling the chamber with warmth. He floated over the desk, studied the blueprint for a moment, and then pretended to sit on the chair.
“You didn’t work on the plans again?”
“I did a little work on the foundation. I had no reason to finish the blueprints if I can’t do the labor.”
“Hmm,” his spirit said, peering at the papers on the desk again. “I wish you had.”
“Why?”
“Because it helps you look to the future.”
Grai breathed a sour laugh. “What future?”
“Your future. You’re alive, Grai. There’s tomorrow. We can overcome this glitch that we’re experiencing!”
“I’d like to know how,” Grai answered him.
“Give us time. Healing.”
Time and healing—two elements Grai lacked. Time will slip away. The land will be sold. Without proper care, he will never be healed. And how would he ever be fully joined with his spirit again? The longer they remained apart, the more he pushed his life force away, just as he had unintentionally scorned the woman who came to tend to his wound.
“Adele,” he whispered. Somehow the darkness made it easier to see her and remember how gentle she had been, wrapping his wound while she bore a self-inflicted laceration—self-inflicted on his behalf.
“She sacrificed her blood to bring me medicine,” he said aloud. “Who would do such a thing? Why?”
“Because she loves you,” his spirit said.
“How could she love me? She barely knows me.”
“She’s getting to know your spirit quite well, if I do say so,” his spirit boasted. “Few people meet the entire better side of a person all at once. You see, while you suffer here in pain and belligerency, I can show her your good side. When we work as a team, we have an amazing advantage, Grai.”
“You showed her my arrogant side?” Grai asked. “While I treated her discourteously.”
“No, I wasn’t arrogant at all.”
“What did you say to her?”
His spirit gave him a look of surprise, as if he didn’t know if he should answer that question. When Grai returned his pretense with a snicker, the spirit succumbed.
“Oh, not much.”
“Not much about what?”
“I made her a bouquet.”
Grai rolled his eyes. “What are you trying to do to me?”
“I’m not trying to do anything to you. I like her, Grai. I think you do too.”
Grai leaned over and buried his head in one hand, holding his side with the other. Pain shot through him again. It seemed whenever something upset him, the anguish of the injury returned. He breathed deeply and gathered his thoughts. He had to make his spirit understand the gravity of their situation and stop him from treating their circumstance like a child’s game!
“Her uncle might be the person behind the attack. He wants this property. He knows my stepfather. Barrington is a big name in this territory. He has the money to get anything he wants. He has the money to get people to do anything he wants.”
“So now you think Barrington wants you dead?”
“He could very well have been the instigator,” Grai concluded.
“I thought you said your stepfather was the instigator.”
“And you told me I was wrong.”
“I said you could be wrong.”
“If Barrington paid to have me eliminated, and no one found my body, he might assume I came here. He could be sending Adele to find out.”
“That makes no sense, Grai.”
“Bonneville doesn’t know I’m alive, but Adele does, and Adele lives next door with the Barringtons.”
“So, now you think that Adele told him you’re here.”
“Yes. It’s possible.”
“And she nursed your wound because…?”
“I don’t know. Because she is who she is,” Grai answered, softening his voice. He didn’t know why she nursed his wound, nor why she cut herself to locate her uncle’s medicine.
This is just the first book. The characters go on to be amateur sleuths in other mysteries based on history. It’s a fun series to write.
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