I’ve been compiling my tweets about my character who is on the run and her hot friend Connor who is trying to help her. escape. Thought I would put them all in one place. Enjoy!
“Let me
take you to my place for a drink, sweetheart.”
She looked
up from her father’s coffin and her heart hammered. His goons guarded every
exit. Her father’s death was a set-up. A ruse to lure her back here-to his
domain.
She
swallowed hard. I need to escape.
His hair
came to a widow’s peak over his onyx eyes, reminding her of the vampire movies
she used to watch with her father. She looked away, back to the casket.
Then it came
to her. “I’ll have a drink. Just let me powder my nose.”
“Sure
doll.”
She turned
on the faucets and fan as if to cover the bad smells. Her father had just been
the gardener-a simple man saving up to send her to school.
She sent a
text to Conor: I NEED YOU.
Why the hell
did I wear a skirt, she thought gazing at the window.
The blood
stained her sleeve vermillion. She ignored the pain from the cut and sprinted
into the darkness. I should have known Giovanni’s concern for my father and me
wasn’t altruistic. Now father is dead. I need to get out of town.
No reply
from Connor.
The city
came into view as she emerged from the woods. Sapphire, vermillion, emerald and
gold lights twinkled in the distance. Giovanni ruled it all, she would find no
safe haven in his city. She looked back toward the cemetery and the church.
I have to
try.
She felt
sanguine as the woman cleaned the wound on her arm. She’d been lucky to find
this cottage on the border of the city. Her phone buzzed as she took another
sip of the warm soup the woman had poured.
CONNOR GET
OUT OF THAT FARMHOUSE NOW-ITS A TRAP
Her head
spun as she rose to her feet. The woman clutched at the border of the table
cloth with her gnarled hands, weathered eyes filling with tears. “I’m
sorry, I had to. Giovanni-” She didn’t stay to hear her defense. She
bolted for the door.
She snatched
a set of keys on her way out the door and climbed in the rusty ford covered in
dust in the drive way. Belts screeching in protest as it clunked to life, she
pointed it to the county border. It was better than nothing. CONNOR: I’M ON MY
WAY
The car
bellowed smoke, giving one last shudder before coasting to a stop next to a
concrete barrier. She tapped her fingers against the cracked vinyl, temples
throbbing. The sign in the dying headlights read: THE RENEGADE DEITY No other
choice
She sifted through the bowl of curry, the Renegade Deity’s special for the night. Her heart nearly stopped when she felt his hand on her shoulder. A strange duality. Connor was a ruthless assassin, but she’d never felt such love.
Connor
curled his arm around her. “I don’t know what game Gio is playing, but we’ll
get you out of town—out of this mess”
“You know
that my father is dead?”
He clutched
her closer, “WHAT?”
The door
chimed as a party of 4 entered.
Connor was
the only thing keeping her hope from descending into a tailspin. She recognized
the party of men dressed in black as Gio’s thugs from the funeral parlor.
“We
don’t want a quarrel with you, we’re just here to collect Gio’s girl” Tony
told Connor
Her fingers
curled around the gun Connor slipped her under the table.
“Don’t be
stubborn, Doll,” Tony said.
“For my
father,” she said as she stomped past the fallen collection party.
Connor
tossed a wad of cash to the waitress.
“Sorry for
the mess.”
The drove in
silence all the way back to his safe house. In between shifting the gears on
the Porsche he clutched her hand in his.
As soon as
the door closed, their passion erupted like a volcanic explosion. Connor
pressed her against the wall, plundering her mouth. She shamelessly explored
his body with her hands.
He pulled
back, caressing her face, “I’ll never let Gio hurt you.”
She kept her
legs shamelessly draped around his hips. Connor tangled his free hand in her
hair, pressing his lips to her temple. “So what happened to your father—when?”
he asked.
“I
don’t know. They claimed it was an accident.”
“I know
them-it wasn’t”
She let her
head collapse against his chest as she took deep breaths, struggling to control
her emotions. “Giovanni killed my father to lure me back here-an innocent
old man who never hurt anyone.” Connor continued to stroke her hair and
kiss her forehead. “It’s okay.”
“I never imagined Giovanni would become so evil, Connor. We all grew up together. Even though I was just the gardener’s daughter, his father included us at their parties—treated us like family.
“Power
corrupts,” Connor said. “We need to get you out of his reach.”
He kissed
her again before getting out of bed. The low light filtering through the window
cast shadows on his lean muscled body as he moved around the room, getting
dressed.
“Giovanni is
Rodrigo’s favorite son, but his power is still nascent. He’s overstepped his
bounds,” Connor said. “Stay here. I’m going to find out what Rodrigo knows
about your father. He loved him as I did. He has no tolerance for treachery.
DK Marie is a writer I stalk…I mean…follow online. I really
enjoy her steamy poetry and snippets from her DK Masquerade, a series of flash
fiction she is writing about a woman on the run from an abusive husband. Her
character Liberty travels all around the world, seeking to find herself, and
finds love along the way. Meanwhile, her Contemporary Romance, Fairy Tale
Lies, was released in June. This is the first book in her Opposites
Attract Series published by Champagne Book Group.
I have to admit, this was a tough review to write. I enjoyed
her book immensely, but Contemporary Romance is not a genre I am normally drawn
to. I’m used to writing and reading Romantic Suspense, Fantasy and Horror. When
it came time to review it, I’m definitely worried about spoilers. Is it okay to
say the sex was hot? It’s okay to give away that they had sex, right? Lots of
it…it was pretty steamy. Did I mention they had sex…? There were lots of other
things as well, but I decided in the end to just have fun with it.
In this particular tale, the opposites are a couple from
different socio-economic backgrounds. Timid, high-society Greta and sexy blue-collar
business man Jacob have what they think is a one-time fling. When they are
thrown together again, neither can ignore the spark between them. Greta is
determined not to mix business and pleasure, but she finds that sexy Jacob is
very persuasive. As Shakespeare once said in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, “the
course of true love never did run smooth.” So it will not for Greta and Jacob,
as they encounter not only Greta’s family’s displeasure over the match, but
each of the character’s own insecurities as they move forward.
Setting
Fairy Tale Lies is set near Detroit. I have never been to
Detroit (or Michigan for that matter). I have read a lot about its music and
maritime history, but I decided to do a little more research for this blog
post. I was aware Detroit took a huge hit economically in the last downturn, as
did most of US manufacturing. According to its most recent State of the Region Economic
Outlook Report (2018-2019), it is rebounding by attracting new start-ups from
cities where the cost of living has become prohibitive to business (areas like
Seattle, Atlanta, and Silicone Valley). It is re shaping itself to be the up-and
coming modern city for millennials. DK’s story (and really her Opposites series)
uses the backdrop of a city renewing and rising up, with self-starting
characters from a multitude of backgrounds.
To read the Michigan Economic Outlook Report, you can find
it here:
Myself and my husband can relate quite a bit to DK’s theme.
I started my career non-traditionally as a Naval Electrician’s Mate. My husband
started out as a welder. We both went on to eventually get degrees in
Electrical Engineering and Welding, Corrosion and Non-Destructive Testing
(respectively). There is an incredible amount of bias in our society towards
going to college and getting a degree while painting these “blue-collar” jobs
as somehow inferior. To be frank, the only reason I got my degree was my
medical condition meant I could no longer be an electrician. Yet my time as an
electrician is what makes me such a successful electrical engineer. My husband
got his degree because he was interested in corrosion and ultrasonic testing,
and he is considered to be a global expert on NDT and corrosion.
All you have to do is Google “dating down” and here is what
pops up:
There is a bias that a college education is somehow higher
than a trade job. In these articles women who have a degree but don’t date
other men with degrees are “dating down.” Fewer and fewer men are graduating
from college, where more women are graduating with degrees. As we have seen in
recent years, a degree doesn’t even necessarily guarantee a good job. It also
comes down to what type of degree you get (that’s a whole other blog article
right there).
Yet some of the most successful entrepreneurs of our time
dropped out of college. Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, and Mark Zuckerberg are a few. **Ironically,
good luck trying to get a job without a degree at Microsoft, Apple or Facebook.
Characters
Jacob
One of my biggest pet peeves in the Romance Genre is the
rise of the “Alpha-Male.” Or as I like to call it, the incredible D-bag. So
many authors try to sell you on the dangerous, bad-boy with a past that the
female main character is going to change with her magical vagina. DK doesn’t
try to make us swallow that tired pill.
Instead, DK shows us a self-made, blue-collar business man
who’s good with his hands, and has a natural talent for fixing things. His
dialog and responses to Greta and other characters are realistic. His
insecurities and changes he undergoes throughout the story are in-line with
what DK has shown us as a character. While he is definitely sexy as hell, he’s
just an average guy just a trying to get his dream of expanding his business, Rework,
off the ground. He’s finally found the financial backing to do so. Too bad it
just happens to be with the company that Greta’s father owns. Jacob also has a
“past” but he’s determined not to let it get in the way of his future.
Greta
Okay, confession time. I wanted to slap the hell out of Greta for 80% of the story. While sweet, she is possibly one of the most spineless, insecure female characters I have ever read—and it is fantastic. DK creates a woman approaching her late-twenties who is so stifled by her parents (particularly her narcissistic, smothering mother’s) behaviors and expectations she can barely breathe. She is the Queen of Non-confrontation, and this will drive a wedge between her and Jacob. I’m surprised she had the guts to dump the fiancée her mother loved (even though he cheated on her). I’m even surprised she decides to date Jacob. Greta’s character is well written in this story and really relatable (even though she drove me nuts). I wanted to scream at her to stand up for herself. While the other characters evolve and change, I felt Greta’s change was the most well-written and believable. She doesn’t go from spineless to ball-buster, but after all of the mental and emotional abuse she’s been handed, she does become a more independent woman by the end of the story.
On thing I do have to mention…
Yes—it is poor professionalism to make out with a guy at
work who is also a client. The fact that she lets her father lecture her about
this really galled me. She worried constantly about what he would think of her professionalism,
then did it anyway (which I was like—woo hoo! Way to put on your big girl
panties!). If you’re that worried about it, find an office door with a lock, don’t
kiss the guy in a room where EVERYONE and ANYONE can walk in at any time (which
of course, all the people she doesn’t want to find out about Jacob walk in and
tell daddy).
But when she got caught, she really ought to lecture her
father about sexual harassment in the work place and how her ex-fiancee, a senior
employee, is making up IT issues and stalking her at work in order to hound
her into coming back to him. The fact that all of her co-workers see this an NO
ONE calls this out to HR or the boss is hideous. Everywhere I’ve ever worked
that’s considered harassment. Granted, the one who has to report it is Greta,
and we’ve already established (at least at the beginning of the story) that she
just won’t stand up for herself, but I really wanted her to call him out. Okay—rant
over.
Supporting Characters
At the risk of spoilers (not only for this book, but the
rest of her series), I will keep this brief and avoid revealing names for those
who haven’t read the books, as DK does reveals and giveaways.
DK provides a great cast of supporting characters. Greta’s narcissistic,
snobbish mother is a piece of work. I wanted to see this woman just humiliated,
even destroyed. We’re friends with several horror writers—I want to collaborate
on a crossover and write a gruesome death for this woman. Preferably strangled
by her pearls or stabbed to death with one of her Louboutin’s.
Greta’s sister is more than she appears, having learned to
deal with their mother in a different way than Greta. I actually found her to
be one of the more intriguing side characters, even more intriguing than Greta.
I would love to see her become a main character in another book.
Greta’s ex-fiancée is a well depicted antagonist. One thing
I am surprised about is that he didn’t make another appearance at toward the end
of the book. I didn’t expect him to give up after the 4th of July
incident (avoiding spoilers here). He is the epitome of rich, frat-boy snob. He
reminded me a lot of the fiancée from Wedding Crashers. He’s another character
for whom I want to see a horrific, humiliating end—hey maybe with Greta’s
mother since she loves him so much!
Jacob’s brother is another fun character who I would love to
see more of. His dialog with his brother is realistic and yet heartfelt. I
would love to see more interactions with the two brothers (in another book
maybe? Once again, please tell me he gets his own story).
Another pair of side characters I would love to see more
from were Greta’s college neighbors. Their love story would make a great
prequel/fun short story or novella.
This novel was a fun read. I went through the entire gamut
of emotions, which meant DK got me really invested in her characters. I wanted
to slap Greta, I wanted to both shake and well, uh…do other things to Jacob. I
wanted to tell Greta’s mother to go —– herself with a rake. The wide
end. I cried during the New Year’s Day scene, that was really intense. I will
have to let you as readers find out for yourselves as to why.
If you like Contemporary Romance with believable characters
that draw you in and wring emotion from you, then you will really love DK’s
style of Romance. And I mentioned the sex, right? If you want to find out how
steamy it was, I’ll give you a tiny tease from my favorite part:
“He turned her, placing her hands on the still-warm leather
seat. The position had her bent, with his front against her back. He trailed
his hands along her arms, down her sides to her thighs. Once there, he slowly
bundled her skirts in his fists.”
Marie, DK. Fairy Tale Lies (Opposites Attract Book 1) . Champagne Book Group. Kindle Edition.
Thanks for reading. My next review will be Michael Nadeau’s fantasy novel, The Darkness Return’s!
The “Tisha” of Robert Speck’s book published in 1976
Some of you who follow my posts about our cabin in Chicken, AK may have read the book, Tisha, written by Robert Speck. This book was loosely based on the life of a real school teacher in Chicken, AK. Her name was Anne Hobbs Purdy.
She wrote her another, based more on her time spent teaching in Eagle, titled Dark Boundary. This was published in 1954, and gave a much darker version of experiences as a school teacher in the territory.
Both versions are worth a read, and from talking with old timers in Chicken, Anne was quite the character. She was born in Missouri on November 10, 1901 and died in Dot Lake, AK on April 15, 1987. The Purdy family still owns property in Chicken. While I will be posting pictures of the “old town” of Chicken, I will not be posting any pictures or locations of the current Purdy family property out of respect for their privacy.
I put together this blog post for those of you who are fans of the book Tisha, but have never made it to Chicken. This will also be the setting for some of my future stories in my horror series (should it become one-rap wood!).
Jack Strong’s house. He had the contract for the mail in the 40-mile region, running a team between Eagle, Jack Wade, Steele Creek and Chicken. A key firgure in Tisha. The house has subsided up to nearly the windows.
We’ll start the tour with Jack Strong’s house. He had the contract to deliver mail and supplies to Chicken. He is the one who also “delivers” Anne to Chicken at the beginning of the story. His house was the largest and nicest in Chicken, also doubling as the General Store. As you can see in the picture, it has subsided over time into the permafrost.
Inside of Jack’s house. There are a few pieces of furniture left over from the era of when Fairbanks Exploration owned Chicken. The floor is nearly level with the window in the background due to the severe subsidence of the structure into the permafrost.Maggie’s Road House.
Maggie’s Roadhouse was the meeting Place for the town, where everyone would come together to gossip. It was also where they would get together after the dances on Saturday nights.
This cast iron stove in the roadhouse was brought in by dog sled. Fairbanks Exploration later retrofitted it to run on propane and installed the ventilation hood above.Sink and prep area in Maggie’s road house.This is where everyone would gather to eat after the dances at the school house.View looking toward the schoolhouse and Jack Strong’s warehouse from the Roadhouse.
So if you have read Tisha, you know that Maggie was a busy-body and a trouble maker. She didn’t like that Anne had taken in two native kids. She also didn’t like that Anne and Fred (a native man) were flirting with each other. As you can see here, she would have had ample opportunity to spy on Anne at the school house. This plays into several key scenes in the novel Tisha.
Front of Anne’s school house.Entrance to Anne’s personal living space on the north side of the buildingView from north side of Tisha’s School House. You can see in this picture that the structure has also subsided over time.View of rear of school house (west side) you can see doors and windows are closed off. At one point the building was two stories and used as a hotel. the second story burnt down in the early 1900’s.Inside the school room. Note the stove. It was made from a metal barrel. You can see the outline of the door and window and the back of the room that were closed off before Anne’s time.Anne’s personal living quarters. Sometimes when it got too cold, she would bring the children into her room and have them sit on her bed while she taught.Jack Strong’s Warehouse.Inside Jack’s storage warehouse in the old ghost town of Chicken, Alaska. Across from Tisha’s school house, it plays a central role in Anne’s story. Later it would become the warehouse for Fairbanks Exploration. Most of the goods left on the shelves are from their operations.“The Management House.” Once a private residence. One Fairbanks Exploration took over Chicken, it became a residence for upper management.Inside the management houseOld structureOld outhouse in Chicken. Could you imagine using this in winter. The record low in Chicken is -76 F.Toad’s residence
Toad is featured in a couple of my blogs. He was one of the last residents to live in Chicken full time before it was finally completely abandoned. He worked for Fairbanks Exploration and stayed on as a caretaker when they pulled out in the 1960’s. He eventually moved to a different place a few miles outside Chicken. Last year he moved to Tok. Only one person lives in the “Old Town” Of Chicken during winter as a caretaker now to prevent vandalism.
Me and my father-in-law Shep, having a beer at the bar in Chicken, AK
Thanks for reading! My horror series The Dark Land and The Devil’s Valley, based on the Athabascan legend of “the People with Tails,” is available on Amazon.
Some places were never meant for humans to trespass.
“She is all nerve as she enters the room and surveys the waiting crowd…the dance hall girl is industrious. She is never vacillating or undecided, she is persevering. She does not flit about the room bestowing a smile here a caress there and again a pouting neglect. When she selects her victim, she stays with him. The more marked her favor, the greater is his triumph. He needs her to complete a spectacle of himself as a favored beau…” -1 pg. 56
My historical romance, A Drink of Darkness has been just as much fun to research as to write. Set in the Yukon Gold-rush boom-town of Dawson City in 1898, I have spent a lot of time gathering information about the setting and the people of Dawson.
My Saloon Girl Helena, and my vampire ladies of the night Eve, Bianca and Liz are complete works of fiction, but I drew my inspiration from reality. I used many sources for my writing, but one of my favorites was Lael Morgan’s Good Time Girls of the Alaska-Yukon Gold Rush.
This was one of the first books I picked up when I moved to Alaska 12 years ago, and it is a great resource on these women who were an integral part of pioneering what is still referred to as the last frontier. Her book follows the ladies through the entire rush. My post will stick to a specific location and time period for now. I decided to put together this short blog post to pay homage to this reference and to these unique, real ladies of Dawson City in 1898.
Here is a link to Lael Morgan’s fascinating book and where you can buy it on Amazon if you are interested
Ms. Morgan uses photo’s from the various archives and stories of these women’s lives to show how they shaped not only the Gold Rush, but Alaska and the Yukon Territory’s fate. It is a fascinating journey through an era where women were forbidden from: owning a Saloon, wearing bloomers, and in some areas prospecting or owning a claim. Prostitution was illegal in the Yukon and Alaska territory, but law enforcement looked the other way and often protected these ladies, seeing the services they provided as a necessary evil to keep the lusts of the men at bay, lest they take it out on “respectable women.” These women came north, often packing their gear themselves over the treacherous Chilkoot Pass or taking the 1600 mile all-steamer-route.
Federal Judge James Wickersham, who presided over Alaska
during this time kept a collection of pictures of these ladies (which can be
accessed via the Alaska Digital Archives). He spoke well of the “Good Time
Girls.”
“The sporting women were of a more robust class than usual among their kind, hence there were fewer cases of venereal disease among them…The women were also younger, more vigorous and independent than those of the same class in the older more crowded communities in the states…” -1 pg. 19
He later went on to say:
“A goodly number of these women yielded to the persuasions of their favorite male customers, quit the life of the dance hall or the bawdy house, and calmly settled down to a quiet home life with their husbands…It quite frequently became my duty as judge to perform marriages for persons of that class and more often that not the marriages were successful.” 1-pg. 51
While this sounds really sweet and romantic, history (and Ms. Morgan’s book) paints a slightly different picture. The hardships and economics of the decisions could be very persuasive. The cost of living was high. Rent on a basic cabin or tent in Dawson could be $30 a month, not counting food. To stay single and in a “respectable job” (nurse, school teacher, secretary were a few of the limited options), these jobs only paid around $20-$30 a month, if that. They were literally skewed to force these women to marry-or to consider less than respectable options.
A saloon girl could make a base pay pouring whiskey of $40 a
week, plus 50% of every drink or bottle she could sell, plus tips. Easily
clearing hundreds of dollars a week if she could hustle and was pretty. Dance
Hall, or “Hurdy-gurdy” girls made a dollar a dance or a drink plus tips—and the
men tipped generously for the privilege. Girls managed to squeeze in over 100
short dances a night. The prostitutes (at least the attractive ones) could make
upwards of $250 a night. Meanwhile marriage was a gamble. Mortality rates were
high. There was no guarantee that a miner would find (and keep) a good claim.
Even if he did, if he happened to die, she could lose the claim, not having the
ability to work it herself.
This sounds cold and calculating, but in a town (and time) where men outnumbered the women by a landslide, these women didn’t come north to find husbands. They came north to make a fortune, just as the men did. And they did it the only way society would allow. I am not going to go into deep detail, if you want that, please read Ms. Morgan’s book, but here are a few of their pictures and stories.
**All of the pictures below courtesy of the Alaska Digital Archives. For permissions on usage of photos, please follow the instructions on their web page: https://vilda.alaska.edu/
Rose Blumkin, The Fairy of Dawson
Rose Blumkin, the Fairy of Dawson and later Nome. Image ASL-P-277-001-185 Wickersham State Historic Site. Photographs, 1882-1930s. ASL-PCA-277
She worked officially as a Dance Hall and ticket girl at the
Monte Carlo theater (though she couldn’t dance or sing), but her love of fine
jewels and ball gowns (and her police record) suggests she did a lot of work
between the sheets to support her lavish spending. After her stint in Dawson
she moved to Nome with the rush.
Golden Belt
Gold nugget belt made for Rose Blumkin. Image UAF-1964-92-278 Selid-Bassoc Photograph Collection
A picture of a belt of gold nuggets commissioned by one of
the “Kings of Dawson” to be made for Rose. From reading Ms. Morgan’s books, the
men, coming into these insane fortunes had little to spend it on other than
whiskey and women. To show their newfound prowess in finding gold, they
lavished it on the good time girls—to the extreme. Their mindset was, if I need
more, I can just dig it out of my claim.
Menawhile, one of my favorite quotes from Diamondtooth Gertie
Lovejoy:
“The poor Ginks just gotta’ spend it…they’re scared they’ll die before they get it out of the ground.” 1-pg. 58
While arrested (and fined) for running a house of prostitution, Babe Wallace did well enough that she was able to import a piano to her establishment. She eventually left the Yukon, but died young in 1911.
The Oregon Mare
The Oregon Mare, Ethel Nellie ASL-P-277-001-192 Wickersham State Historic Site. Photographs, 1882-1930s. ASL-PCA-277
One of the things that I found highly amusing in my research
was some of the creative nicknames of the ladies: the Swedish Queen, Nellie “the
Pig” Lamore, Diamond Tooth Gertie, etc. I used this in my writing, creating my own
nicknames for my working gals. This is a photograph of a lady known as the Oregon
Mare, real name of Ethel Nellie. A popular prostitute in the early days of
Dawson. She is even mentioned in a Robert Service poem. Considering he got to Dawson
in 1908, long after the initial rush, Ethel would have moved on by then, he
would have known her by legend only.
The Dutch Kid
“The Dutch Kid” ASL-P-277-001-186 Wickersham State Historic Site. Photographs, 1882-1930s. ASL-PCA-277
This is a photo from Judge Wickersham’s collection. He
withheld her real name, only noting that later she became a nurse. Often times
when the ladies would leave the “profession” (and the region), they would do
everything they could to conceal their past. Their husbands and families were
often eager to assist. Some speculate that this lady was actually the first prostitute
into the region.
The Gypsy Queen
The Gypsy Queen ASL-P-277-001-193 Wickersham State Historic Site. Photographs, 1882-1930s. ASL-PCA-277
As previously mentioned, not all the ladies were prostitutes. Here is a picture of the Gypsy Queen, Mrs. Curly Monroe, wife of a local Saloon owner.
Lucy Lovell was a popular American actress who had toured the London stage and decided to give the north a try. She made her fortune in the Klondike. Unfortunately, she contracted tuberculosis during her tour of the territory. She retired to Arizona and passed away shortly thereafter.
May Stanley
May Stanley, Dance Hall and Whiskey Girl ASL-P-277-001-183 Wickersham State Historic Site. Photographs, 1882-1930s. ASL-PCA-277
May Stanley worked as a Dance Hall girl, selling whiskey and dances with men (which was legal). Morgan’s research indicates that since her name does not appear in any police reports linked with prostitution that she never worked as a call girl. My character Helena’s job is modeled after girls like her, trying to make a living without selling themselves.
Klondike Kate “The Belle of the Yukon, the Sweetheart of the Sourdoughs” 1-pg 157
Klondike Kate Rockwell, Queen of the Klondike ASL-P-41-56 P. E. Larss Photograph Collection, 1898-1904. ASL-PCA-41
And of course, the most famous and bold of the Dawson girls. Born Eloisa Rockwell in 1876 in Kansas. Technically, she didn’t get to Dawson until 1900 (though she would have been in Seattle and Skagway at the time), so I can’t include her as part of my story, but I have to mention her. She made and lost a fortune as a Good-time girl. She was known for putting on quite a show. In one act, she would wear a skimpy leotard and roller skate around the stage (skimpy for the era). In her famous “Flame Dance”, she wore yards of sheer chiffon had fans blow it about her while she shimmed in front of red lights.
Ms. Morgan’s book and the Alaska Digital Archives have been a treasure trove of information on the period. I hope you have enjoyed my post about them and will check out her book and the archives! maybe someday A Drink of Darkness will see the light of day as well…only time will tell!
References
Morgan, Lael; Good Time Girls of the Alaska-Yukon Gold Rush. Epicenter Press, Inc, 1998.
The Dark Land, Available on Amazon
Thanks for reading! My Alaska horror novella is currently available on Amazon:
The legend of Alaska’s Headless Ravine is steeped in blood. Its hunger for human flesh never sleeps-even in the deepest cold of winter. Courage, skill and love will be stretched to the limits in the isolated boundaries of The Dark Land
A paranormal thriller/horror novel by Shawn Burgess, now also available as an audio book.
The parallels we find between fiction and real life at times
can be ironic and unsettling at the same time. Shawn Burgess’s The Tear
Collector is paranormal thriller/horror novel about a group of boys in a
small town who are trying to help the police find their missing classmate, Margo
Combs. She’s an autistic girl who has gone missing in the woods. As the clues
come unraveled and bodies pile up, they realize that Grief Hollow, is more than
just a name.
Shawn asked me to ARC read his novel months ago and I put it into my calendar for June 2019.
As I sat down to read Shawn’s story, a real-life version of this is rocked Anchorage, AK and the surrounding cities to their core. A 19-year-old special needs girl went missing at the beginning of June 2019, her body turned up a few days later on a popular hiking trail. The horror of what happened to her, and the callous disregard for human life has everyone asking, why?
At this point in the investigation, five teenagers have been arrested with conspiring to murder, sexual assault and other charges. A man in another state is being extradited to Alaska as part of the plot. There is so much that is terrifying about this tragic story that it is hard to wrap one’s mind around it. People often refer to Alaska as a “Little Big Town,” though large in area, it is small in population. Almost everyone I work with or know has some connection to someone involved in this case.
The fact that such evil exists in the human heart and mind
is mind boggling. That someone who seems benign, who you interact with every
day, could be plotting horrific murder. You almost wish there were a driving
force behind it. Some sort of horrific greater evil that it could be blamed on.
Shawn’s story, by contrast, is a more traditional
paranormal/horror story. The adults don’t want to believe their eyes and
senses. There must be a logical, “normal” explanation for the deaths and
disappearances. A serial killer, animal attacks, kids just screwing around. The
kids in his story, on the other hand are more in tune with their senses and are
willing to believe what they see.
Shawn’s setting and characters hook you from the very start. When Brady tries to kill the tent caterpillars in Grief Hollow, you know this is not going to go well.
***I was shaking my head, thinking oh no, don’t do it! But then I think of some of the REALLY dumb things we did as kids. We’re lucky we didn’t end up dead, maimed, or in “Juvy.’
The story only grows darker as you move with the club of
young boys, the “Markland X Crew,” through the small town of Harper Pass and
the woods surrounding it. They try to not only find their missing classmate,
but figure out who or what has “marked” its inhabitants. The Markland X Crew
battles bullies, stalks their suspects, and tries to stay one step ahead of the
supernatural evil stalking Harper Pass.
Setting
While The Tear Collector is supposed to be set in Appalachia, it could easily be transplanted to any small town. Even the one I grew up with, just exchange desert for woods. Shawn paints a vivid picture of small-town life, where everyone knows everyone else’s business. Grudges are carried through generations. For the kids, the world revolves around being in the popular crowd at school.
Characters
I have mentioned it in other reviews. I hate the question,
“what is this story like?” or “What author is this writing like?” But I do have
to admit the theme and style in this story reminded me greatly of two stories
by Stephen King: IT and the Body (better
known as the movie Stand by Me). It also kind of reminded me of a
mash-up of the Monster Squad and the Sandlot. Shawn
uses the themes of camaraderie and support as the boys of the Markland X Crew are
forced to band together to unravel the mystery of Grief Hollow or suffer the
same fate as their classmates.
I can think back to when I was a kid; and my brother, my
cousin and myself would roam the trails, canyons and old abandoned mines of the
Mojave Desert, solving mysteries and outwitting enemies in our heads. This
story speaks to that innocent desire we have as children to solve the riddle
that is baffling the adults, save the day and be the heroes.
When we realize that what is worrying the adults is that
fact that when the mask is ripped off the monster, just like in Scooby-Doo, and
what is beneath is revealed to be nothing more than another human, a little
more of our innocence is stripped away. We start to grow up and deal with the
harshness of reality. We realize that the monsters ARE other humans. We can’t
spray holy water on it or wave an amulet and make everything right. The evil
still exists even as the police lock it away, and the dead stay dead.
The characters he creates throughout the story are easy to
invest in. Professor Wadlow, reminding me of a cross between “Scary-German-Guy”
from Monster Squad and Laslow from Real Genius. Detective Holt trying to get on
top of the pile of bodies and his crumbling personal life. Tee’s sister Angela,
who just wants to head off to college and forget her part in the past troubles
of Grief Hollow. But I will focus more on Shawn’s main characters below.
Brooks
He creates a believable and sympathetic character in Brooks
Raker, for the most part our main character/narrator. Brooks is willing to do
anything to join the Markland X Crew. Shawn shows us a somewhat awkward
tweenaged boy with few friends.
My mom draws her head back, and her eyes grow wide; but
after a moment her face lights up in a big smile too. She isn’t accustomed to
me running off to play with friends, as in more than one.
His character reminded me of a cross between “Smalls” from
the Sandlot and Gordie Lachance from Stand By Me. He has Smalls desire to fit
in, but he’s not as innocent or gullible. Character wise, he’s a little more
like Gordie, a young boy trying to figure out where he fits in the world.
Brooks has realistic thoughts about girls and video games and even adult
things. He is deeply empathetic to his friends’ emotional baggage, which we
learn about as the story goes on. He is often the voice of reason to the rest
of the group’s rash behavior. It is his initiation at the beginning of the
story that sets him in juxtaposition to Sammy, the bully who already has it out
for him. He ends up as the last person to see “Mysterious Margo” when he
escapes from Sammy’s torture into the woods.
I enjoyed Brooks as a character. He has realistic hopes and
fears of wanting to fit in, yet not wanting to get in trouble with either his
parents or the law.
Shawn does a good job of slowly developing the trust between
the boys in the Markland X Crew. Even though they have made a vow to one
another as part of the club, their bond deepens as they realize they can’t turn
to the adults with what is happening, they can only rely on one another,
“brothers from another mother.”
“You guys are the best friends I’ve ever had. I’ll always
be here for you. No matter what. Brothers.” My voice fractures, the tortured
grimace on Robby’s face leaving my stomach as hollow as an empty grave. It’s
not fair. Man… It’s just not fair. I deliver several soft pats on Robby’s back,
moisture gathering in my eyes.
The Markland X Crew
The other boys of the Markland X Crew are believable and
relatable as well.
Robby
Fatherless Robby, who covers his raw emotions over his
father’s death with rash behavior and bravado.
As Devin’s face flounders, I feel the weight of
everything unsaid pressing upon me, the sharp divide separating Devin from the
truth of Robby. The boy in pain behind that carefully constructed mask. The boy
who lost his dad but also his mother to the long work hours and two jobs she
had to get to support them. How the church turned its back on Robby and his
mother after his grandparents paid for a Disney trip following his dad’s death.
How small-town grumblings, a secret stash of money, the family better off than
they’re pretending to be, became rumor that’s accepted as fact. And how those
rumors spread quick as wildfire in a small town like Harper Pass until the
spigot of compassion runs dry. But it’s not my place to tell.
Tee
Tee is a sort of middle ground between steady Brooks and
rash Robby.
“Keep your voice down, bro.” Devin pushes his palms at
the ground.
“Come on, Tee. You’re the only one who can fit.”
“Yeah man. Don’t you want to save your friend Margo?”
Tee throws eye daggers at Devin. “She’s not my friend.
You guys are my friends, but you’re not acting like it.”
Devin
Dev, the new kid in town. Shawn shows us a boy whose seeming
reckless behavior is both a reflection of his desire to fit in with his new
friends and a lack of understanding of the local myths and legends (that have
the other boys fearful).
I’m not sure what to make of Devin. In the few hours I’ve
known him, I’ve already determined he’s one of the bravest kids I’ve ever met.
But I wonder what’s behind that bravery. Crazy or just curious? Maybe curious.
We talked about it a lot. And he’s never been. Probably just doesn’t know any
better.
Antagonist and Plot Resolution
Shawn uses a mash-up of science and myth to create his evil within the woods. I would love to tell you more, but at the risk of spoilers, I will refrain from delving into too much depth here. Perhaps after it has been out for a while, I will release my version of this review with spoilers.
I will say that our young heroes go on a nightmarish ride, often escaping by the skin of their teeth. They always adhere to the mantra that they never leave a member of Markland X Crew behind. When it is clear that they are all marked by this evil, they decide that they need to go face it together, rather than wait for it to destroy them one by one, reminding me of the teamwork and bravado of the children in Stephen King’s IT.
I gulp hard at Devin’s proclamation. We’re screwed! Can’t
go to the police. Can’t go to our parents. Not like we can leave town. We’re
sitting ducks.
Head-hopping/changing PoV
My one beef with the story was the PoV changes. We start out
in 3rd person in the intro, jump to 1st person when we’re with
Brooks, then jump back into 3rd person when we’re with other
characters. I brought this up to Shawn in that I felt he should have just either
stuck with Brooks in the 1st person the whole way or stayed in 3rd
person with everyone. Unfortunately, at this point, it is a little late to
change it.
Either way, it didn’t keep me from finishing the story. I
read this straight through from start to finish, because I HAD to know what the
thing in the woods was and if the Markland X Crew would come out on top. The
story got more and more twisted as it went (just the way I like it). There’s a
scene with a centipede that made me say out loud, “Shawn, what the f–k?”
Teaser
…his body like a giant centipede with a waxy, burned-umber exoskeleton banded black at the edges of its body segments. Dozens of spiny legs screech over the steel bumper, shimmying forward in unison. The long, dagger-like legs that taper to fine needlepoints at the tips slice through the clear coat on the hood of the car. Cam’s breathing devolves into unmeasured, frantic panting. His heart jackhammers in his chest at the grotesque sight of its glossy, alabaster underbelly passing over the windshield, his ears in a state of revulsion as its lance-like legs chisel out chunks of glass as it ascends. The roof creaks before groaning under the weight of the creature, the squeal of scraping metal serrating Cam’s eardrums as it pulls the last of his hideous body over the windshield.
And it only got worse from there…
Can’t wait for the sequel!
Thanks for reading! My own horror novella, The Dark Land, is available on Amazon. If you’re interested in Alaska backcountry horror, check it out.
The legend of Alaska’s Headless Ravine is steeped in blood. Its hunger for human flesh never sleeps, even in the deepest cold of winter. Courage, skill and love will be stretched to the limits in on the isolated trails of The Dark Land.
My research into Dawson City for my Historical Fiction novel: A Drink of Darkness
Gold was discovered in the Klondike in August of 1896 in a small tributary in the sprawling Yukon River. Due to slow communications, the rest of the world didn’t hear about it until July of 1897, after the Excelsior pulled into Seattle with “A ton of Gold.” A million people made plans to head north. Over 100,000 people actually crossed the Canadian border, taking one of few routes to the Klondike gold fields.
They could get to Skagway and take the “short,” treacherous
route over the Chilkoot Pass or White Pass. Too steep for horses, they carried
their 1000 lbs of goods mandated by the Canadian government on their backs. It
took an average of 40 trips over 33 miles to cart the goods over the passes to
Bennet City, where then the next leg was via river. This exercise took almost 4
months to complete.
Or they could take the 1600-mile, more expensive, all-water-route. They would travel by steamer from Seattle to St. Michael. Then they could take another boat up the Yukon. The steamers only ran from June until the end of September, when the river was free of ice. In the summer of 1898, the water levels were at record lows and the steamers got stuck multiple times, stretching the journey from 10 days into over two weeks.
In the summer of 1898, 40,000 people passed through Dawson City. A brash boom-town already calling itself the “Paris of the North.” During its boom from 1897-1899, it would be the largest city north of Seattle and west of Winnepeg. By the time the “Stampeders” reached the Yukon, most of the best claims had already been staked. People had been mining for gold in the region for over 10 years. When miners close by heard of the strike, they quickly moved in and staked the best claims, leaving little to nothing for the men who arrived by 1898.
As I mentioned in a previous post, we writers are often
told, “Write what you know.” I know what it is like to live in Alaska, and work
in the extreme cold (the coldest temperature I have ever worked in was -65 with
WC of -80). I know what it is like to be really remote with no internet, power,
cell service, running water and other basic services. But going back to another
period in time is a completely different story.
For my Historical Fiction, A Drink of Darkness, set in
December of 1898, the peak of the boom in Dawson City, I needed to do some
detailed research to give the story more depth. I used several sources, but
this blog post is going to focus on the archived photographs from the Alaska Digital
Archives. It is a compilation of historical photographs from Alaska’s past,
taken from various resources (UAA, UAF, Alaska’s libraries and records) and
digitized into one location. You can view and search them here:
It is free to view these photos online, but in order to use these photos for a blog or website, permission must be granted from the Archives. You can find the form and instructions to do so like I did on their website.
I started by searching through the archived photos of Dawson. I wanted to get a feel for the layout of the streets and the way the buildings looked. Built at a rapid pace on a muddy turn of the Yukon River, the first year it was mostly tents, yurts and three-sided log cabins. There was no sewage system or electric grid. Most heat was either wood or fuel oil.
Front Street in Dawson in 1898. Image P-277-79
Wickersham State Historic Site. Photographs, 1882-1930s. ASL-PCA-277
Note how the cart is buried up to its axles in the mud. Dawson was built on the mudflats of the Yukon River and extremely prone to flooding. The streets through downtown were unpaved in this period
They didn’t account for the spring flooding of the Yukon River or subsidence into the mud. As time went on, more “permanent buildings” were constructed. However, there were multiple fires. The worst being in April of 1899. Before this, there was no sewage/plumbing system downtown. After this, the new buildings were mostly finished wood instead of log construction. These details are important to my research both in showing the crude conditions in which my main character Helena had to live, but in determining which buildings belong to which era of Dawson. They were also helpful in understanding how people dressed when out on the street.
Picture of Front Street with people gathered to receive mail and news from the “outside.” Image P-41-161 P. E. Larss Photograph Collection, 1898-1904. ASL-PCA-41
Note the crude log construction in this photo and the lack of telegraph lines (though there appear to be poles with cable in the background-the system was under construction, completed in summer of 1899). This photo is probably from 1898, before the large fire that devastated the downtown.
It is also critical to note how the hills and river looked.
This land is similar to where our cabin is in Chicken with boreal forests
containing spruce, birch and willow. At roughly the same latitude as Chicken
and Fairbanks, it is also prone to permafrost. Due to all of the mining and
need for wood, the trees were clear cut around Dawson by the winter of 1898,
leaving Midnight Dome, the mountain behind the city, bare to the weather.
Front Street looking north toward “Midnight Dome” Image P-277-001-58 Wickersham State Historic Site. Photographs, 1882-1930s. ASL-PCA-277
The lack of telegraph lines and street lamps indicates the above photo was once again probably from 1898
Front Street along the waterfront Image P-277-001-81 Wickersham State Historic Site. Photographs, 1882-1930s. ASL-PCA-277
This is another view of Fronts Street. The better constructed buildings and docks along with the telegraph lines running along the water lead me to believe this photo has to post-date the fire of April 26, 1899 which leveled the waterfront.
I was also able to get an understanding for which businesses and Saloons were actually open the year Helena would have been in Dawson, along with an idea of the location of buildings critical to my plot (the Royal Mounted Police Barracks from which Liam and Zhang break into/out of at one point in the story).
Canadian Royal Mounted Police Barracks P-41-41, according to maps, it is still in this location P. E. Larss Photograph Collection, 1898-1904. ASL-PCA-41
There were fantastic pictures of the boats pulling into
Dawson. I used these, along with my other references to show what Helena’s
arrival into the “Paris of the North” would have been like.
Steamers pulling into Dawson and unloading, 1898 Image P-41-41 P. E. Larss Photograph Collection, 1898-1904. ASL-PCA-41
Pictures of steamers waiting to load/unload. Note the tents pitched right next to the river, along with the small boats just left along the shore. In the summer of 1898, boats pulled into Dawson by the hundreds nightly. But could you imagine wintering in the Yukon in a tent? Not to mention, the Yukon is notorious for flooding in the spring. Just ask the residents of Eagle, AK:
Dawson had a telegraph installed by summer of 1899, but little other communication to the outside world. The Yukon froze October 31, 1898. Steamer travel would have ceased weeks before as the river began to clog with ice (starts to happen beginning of October, pictures I reviewed online indicate mid-to end of September was the last Steamer out). Once the river freezes, the only way to transport supplies was by dog sled. This was treacherous at best, presuming the aforementioned passes were open. Skagway to Dawson was 444 miles over rough trails prone to avalanche, but a few brave souls did it for profit.
Dog Sled Team pulling into Skagway from Dawson, winter 1898. Image P-41-10 P. E. Larss Photograph Collection, 1898-1904. ASL-PCA-41
This is critical to my plot as well, both stranding Helena in Dawson for the winter (the Yukon typically won’t completely break up until May, with the first steamer arriving from Seattle until June). She then has to survive the boomtown madness. It is also critical to Liam. He needs to contact his brothers in Sitka and his oldest brother Jack, who is on the American side of the border, scouring the gold rush towns of Jack Wade, Steel Creek, Chicken and Eagle. The only means of communication by December of 1898 would have been mail delivered by dog sled.
According to the unofficial census taken by the Mounties, approximately 16,000 people wintered in Dawson, but only 500 of them were women. Something else is stalking the Yukon in the winter of 1898. Something deadlier than typhus or scurvy.
Helena will struggle to resist the Drink of Darkness. The taste is to die for.
Conrad J Kenneman Died Jan 23, 1911 age 51 years
Thanks for reading! For my next blog, I will be talking about my research into the real ladies of the night of Dawson City and other boom towns of the Alaska-Klondike Gold Rush.
Our second trip to Kennecott Mines National Historic Landmark and Wrangell-St. Elias National Park.
In 2007, I made the decision to pack up everything I had and take a job in Alaska working a rotational job in Prudhoe Bay, Alaska. I didn’t know anyone, and had no idea what I was getting into. I moved from an office job in Seattle to a field-based job in the arctic. I can say, without a doubt, it absolutely was the best decision I ever made. And not only for myself, but for others I have met along the way, there is an enduring mystique about the land that is still dubbed: The Last Frontier. Wherever I go, I get peppered with questions about what it is like to live and work in Alaska. Some of my novels are based on adventures I have had along the way, but others are based here in the 49th State. While I have lived here almost 13 years now, I am amazed at how much I still don’t know about one of America’s youngest states.
My Alaska Adventures have become the inspiration for so much of my writing (as you’ll see below), and yet I am blown away by how much I don’t know.
A particular piece of writing advice that writers hear time
and time again is:
WRITE WHAT YOU KNOW.
I think we can all agree that this is a bit misleading, and
really, not very well defined. My perspective is that it means to write from
your life’s experiences and passions. When George Orwell wrote the War of the
Worlds, I don’t think he knew first hand anything about alien invasion, but he
understood people. Ernest Hemmingway wrote incredible novels based on his life
experiences as an ambulance driver during WWI. Charlotte Bronte wrote
passionate Gothic Romance based on her hardships and privations as a child
raised in a poor, rural English parish in the mid-1800’s.
Historical Fiction has always intrigued me, as well as historical non-fiction. It is fascinating to read about characters from the past and imagine what their lives must have been like. We can’t really KNOW what it was like to live in their time and walk in their shoes, but we can research and Imagine.
Pressure gauge on boiler in the old power plant at Kennecott
In my quest to write a series of both contemporary and
historical fiction about Alaska, I have been visiting some of the lesser known
historical sites. This trip, we went back to Kennecott, AK. This copper mine in
Wrangell-St. Elias National Park operated from 1911-1938. It produced 200-300
million dollars’ worth of copper and silver (4.5 tons of copper ore). Owned by
the Kennecott Syndicate, a corporation formed between the Havemeyer,
Guggenheim, and J.P. Morgan Families, it operated 363 days a year. A 96-mile
long railroad project costing $23 million was built from Cordova to Kennecott
to bring the ore to market. Deemed the Can’t Run and Never Will Rail Road
(Copper River Northwestern Railroad—CRNW RR), it ran until 1938, until the mine
was shut down.
Rail trestle over the Gilhana River. Part of the CRNW Railroad from Cordova to Kennecott. One of the few sections still intact.
My series a Copper Year is set in the roaring 20’s. It’s a
story about a young woman who survived the horrors of WWI France and travels to
Kennecott to work as a nurse. The novels are about her journey from Europe,
across America to Alaska. It then will detail the life of a single, female
nurse in a camp dominated by men. The societal expectation being that she
wouldn’t stay single long. She would find a good husband and settle down,
putting her career aside to raise a family (apparently, they had a rule that
once a woman got married, she could no longer work). No one really takes into
account if that is what she really wants.
This story was inspired by two ideas. One my own work
experience as a woman in engineering working almost always only around men.
Then also my research into the archived pictures of Kennecott. While most of
the women who got married were named in the photographs, the unmarried nurses
were just labeled “unknown nurse.” It was a symptom of the time in which they
lived. They weren’t considered a critical part of the story until they found a
man to marry. Otherwise, they merely faded into obscurity. This gave me the
idea for creating a romance around one of these “unknown women.”
Part of my research has been to dig into not only the photo
archives and written history, but to take actual trips out to Kennecott and do
tours to learn what life was like for the people who lived and worked at the
mines. It is fascinating to learn about day to day life at the mining
operation. The park rangers give daily talks about camp life and the people who
lived here.
Concentration Mill at Kennecott. At 14 stories tall, considered to be one of the largest free standing wooden structures in the world. It has metal buckles throughout to tighten it down from all the vibration.
We have also taken multiple tours of the Concentration Mill,
Power Plant, and Leeching Plant. These tours can be booked through St. Elias
Alpine Guides. They do a great job explaining some of the back history of
Kennecott and the purposes of the various buildings.
While my story A Drink of Darkness is currently set in
Dawson City, I plan on expanding the series to Kennecott eventually (rap wood
it gets that far). In this case, I will have my immortal vampires Eve, Bianca
(and others) who masquerade as “Ladies of the Night,” showcase the rowdy town
of McCarthy. Sitting at the toe of the root glacier, 5 miles away from
Kennecott, it was also the turnaround point for the CRNW Railroad. Kennecott
was a “Company Town,” owned by the Syndicate, with strict rules, and
technically dry. McCarthy was a boomtown that sprung up to cater to the whims
of the working men. Complete with bootlegging and brothels, a man could work
months for his pay check, walk to McCarthy, then be back at the mines in a week
or two, having blown it all.
My contemporary horror novella (currently available on Amazon), The Dark Land is also set in the area. This novel was inspired by the remote wilderness areas of the park, and local Athabascan Legends.
The Legend of Alaska’s Headless Ravine is steeped in blood. It’s hunger for human flesh never sleeps, even in the deepest cold of winter. Skill, courage and lover will be stretched to the limits on the isolated boundaries of The Dark Land.
Thanks for reading. Stay tuned for more book reviews and Alaska adventures!
As previously mentioned, this last Chicken trip Ray and I
did something we have never done before. We hiked to the old chicken cemetery. People
have been mining for gold in Chicken since the 1880’s. The original town of
Chicken (now abandoned) is across the highway from the newer town sites. You can
still take a tour of the old ghost town. The Gold Panner RV Park does tours
twice daily.
Chicken Cemetery
But the old cemetery is some distance from town and not very
well marked (as most old cemeteries are). It is located at the point where the Chicken
Creek flows into the Mosquito Fork of the 40-Mile River. According to an old
reference book, Chicken, Alaska, Then and Now, the trail could be found
at about mile 68.5 on the Taylor Highway. There were multiple little trails
along that part of the road. As you might guess, Ray and I ended up picking the
wrong one and hiking all the way down to the creek and river through mosquito
infested swamp.
After an hour or more of hunting for the right trail from
the river, we hiked back up the hill and found the small cemetery. As many of
you commented in on my photos, it was both beautiful, and eerie to say the
least. There weren’t many markers left, most of them being made of wood.
Conrad J Henneman Died Jan 23, 1911 age 51 years
Many of you might be wondering why they would bury their
dead in the middle of the woods on a hill. Back when the burials occurred, due
to the mining in the area and the need for wood, the hill would have been clear
cut. This hill would have also been one of the easier places to dig because it
would have been less prone to permafrost. It also it up out of the flood plain,
so they wouldn’t have had to worry about erosion.
Plain cross, person unknown
Ray and I plan on going back next trip and making some
repairs to one of the markers. The really unique marker with the wind chimes
that is shaped like an angel is broken. One of the angel’s wings fell off.
Angel headstone with wing broken. Ray and I plan to go back and fix it.
In keeping with this blog post, my theme for this week is:
memory/remembrance. During our trip to the cemetery it struck us how lonely and
sad this little forgotten place was. And looking around the clearing, it was
obvious there were other grave that the markers were long gone, lost to time.
This grave is not in the cemetery. It is located next to the Saloon. It is a grave of a little boy who died around 1949.
Hey #AKChickenChick and #DKMasquerade Followers and Writers! It has been wild and crazy out in the land of Chicken. I am still compiling tweets from the last two weeks, but here is our story from the last 2 weekends for those who want to catch up on the craziness!
Bryce and Liberty
Bryce watched Shannon
flirt. He should be enjoying the solstice celebration. Instead he was stuck in
fucking Chicken, AK! If only he didn’t need her money so much! He saw a woman
on wobbly legs enter the saloon. Damn, she looked familiar! He needed a closer
look.
The man slid into the
booth across from her. He had a playful smile, but the deadly intent in his
eyes was no joke. Fine. She wasn’t in the mood for games. “What are you
doing here, Bryce?” she asked, her tone sharp &biting.
“I was going to
ask you the same thing,” he responded, having already noted that her usual
ménage of bodyguards was absent. “It’s not like you to travel so light.
Where is your entourage?” He needed to know who else might recognize him
and decide what to do. She seemed nervous
Was this some sort of
cosmic joke? She’d run all over the world, stopping at the farthest reaches of
the US only to run into her husband’s right-hand-man, his snake? Liberty didn’t
know if she should laugh or cry.
She knew this man. He’d
sold his soul years ago, to her husband, his boss. There’s still venom in his
smile, but also a new warmth in his eyes. There’s no doubt he’s a traitor. But
to her, or his boss? Would he protect or betray?
He couldn’t believe
this! Everything had been going so well until this trip. The boss’ wife? She
was the one person he couldn’t simply silence. He had to find a way to convince
her to keep her mouth shut, though. If the boss found him, the jig was up
“Are you here to
drag me back?” She blurted, at the same time Bryce asked, “How’d he
find me?”
Bryce stared at her in
confusion. “Drag you back?” he asked. “What are you talking
about? Who’s with you? Phil? Gallo? I’ll kill them if I have to. Why are you
here? He never lets you out of his sight.” Bryce felt sudden, cold terror.
His eyes darted around the bar. Was HE here?
She studied the man
she’d hated for so many years, hesitating to ask but needing to know. “My
husband gave you the three things you always craved; fortune, status, power.
What made you leave.” She eyed the exit. “Have you left?”
Loyal Bryce had taken
off, left the “business.” He’d have stolen the First Lady’s silver &
the Queen’s diamonds if her husband asked. Yet, here he was, bathed in sweat
&secrets. It was time to reveal one of hers. “I ran.”
Bryce let her words
sink in. It had been nearly impossible for him to get away. He couldn’t
conceive how she had done it. He could see the fear in her eyes, yes, but it
was shadowed by her defiance. “To Chicken, Miz L?” he asked, then
laughed.
Liberty laughed, taking in her husband’s (maybe former) goon. “Well,
Chicken wasn’t my first stop. Your boss & I have been playing a game of cat
&mouse all over the globe.” She studied Bryce. “Is it time for me
to run again?”
Bryce looked back at
the woman behind the bar as he exited, their conversation weighing heavy on
him. Of all the things he expected here running into the boss’s wife was not
one. She looked happy, he thought. He couldn’t recall that he’d ever seen her
laugh before
Bryce left the bar,
weighing his options. It was as good as gold, he thought, finding the boss’s
errant wife. Would the bastard grant him freedom if he returned her to him?
Could he negotiate a generous bounty?
*****
Shannon and Volk
Shannon was more
than a little intrigued by the delectable young stranger that sat next to her,
his thigh so close to hers that she could feel heat emanating from it. She
tried to hide the band of gold on her finger, but realized he’d seen it, and
didn’t care.
Volk brought her hand to his lips,
lingering on the #gold band
around her third finger as he gazed into her pretty eyes. “My brother and
I have business to attend to tonight. But perhaps we will see you here again
tomorrow evening?”
Shannon flushed, but yes, she’d be here
tomorrow. What was it about this fascinating man? She wondered briefly,
guiltily, what Bryce was up to. It didn’t matter. She was mesmerized. The band
that tied her to another man faded as she gazed into his beautiful,
unfathomable eyes.
He gave a wolfish
grin as her eyes fluttered to his bear of a brother as he stalked into the
woods. “I can bring my brother, if it would please my lady. If you are
wondering, yes, you can have both. If that is your wish. I am but your humble
dog.”
Concealed by the
woods, Volk reverted to his wolf-spirt form and tore through the brush after
his brother. Splashing through the swift flowing creek, he nipped at the thick
golden fur. A large paw swiped knocking him on his side into the water.
“Focus!”
“I am focused,
on all the right things,” he replied, righting himself and shaking the
excess water off. “Besides, don’t you want to know which she’ll
prefer.” “I have no doubt which she’ll prefer. Are you afraid you
won’t measure up, Little brother?” This time the wolf dodged As his
brother gave another playful swipe. “It’s not the size, it’s the skill,
and I have both, big bro.” He sniffed the air, catching a scent. The hair
stood up on his ruff. “To the south, it’s angry. It’s found some other
humans. We need to hurry.”
*****
Aly & Sam
Aly had no idea how
she ended up in a place called Chicken, Alaska. But she was here. Got a job,
place to live. No one looked twice at her fake ID. #Solstice gig was tonite. She’s
expected to go. She hoped her wound’s dressing would hold her bleeding.
Ashley laughed with
Liberty as she served drinks, but her heart was heavy as her eyes scanned the
bar. Had it all been a dream? Too good to be true? Where had Aleksandr gone?
As if reading her
thoughts, Liberty gave her a hug. “It will be okay.”
Ashley was ringing
up a sale when she noticed drops of crimson on the floor. She followed them
over to where Aly stood, pale and wan as she served a beer to a customer.
“Uh, Aly. I think you need to take a break,” she caught Liberty’s
eye, pointing to the floor.
Aly didn’t know who to trust; all were
strangers.But her stab wound was infected & wouldn’t stop bleeding.Ashley
seemed nice. Sam had warm flirty eyes.Pretty soon she’d have to tell someone
why she was running.Then her world went black as someone’s arms caught her.
Sam caught her as she fell. Alarmed not
only by her pallor but the feverish heat of her body. “She’s
bleeding,” Ashley whispered as Sam carried her out. “I know. I’ll
take her to your cabin. Meet me with the kit and an IV.”
Ashley and Sam
carried the woman with haunted eyes out of the bar, they passed Bryce in the
corner booth still nursing his beer. Liberty was beginning to wonder
what-in-the-hell was in the drinks in Chicken Alaska. This city crawling with
dangerous secrets.
Aly woke in a
strange room. Sam was holding her hand & smiling at her. Her fingers went
to her bandaged side. It felt better, the pain was gone.
She blurted out, “My
husband tried to kill me.”
Sam squeezed her
hand, “You’re safe here.”
“He’s not looking
for me,” she whispered.
Sam nodded and touched her cheek, the
haunted terror in her eyes punching him in the gut. He took a deep breath then
gave her a broad smile and a wink, “You should be more careful washing the
knives in the kitchen. Rest for now, Ashley and Liberty will bring you some
soup later.”
*****
Aleksandr, Ashley and
Natasha
Aleksandr walked the
woods, eyes checking the skies periodically; he missed her & she’d barely
left. He could feel the thrumming power of the #Solstice all around him, especially
this far north, and he knew that the Children of Ariel would need it soon.
“Azreal? Is that really you?”
A low voice growled from the shade of the spruce bog. The man-like beast reared
to his full height of nearly 11ft. He dropped the three carcasses of the
Cet’aeni in a hole and grinned at the angel. “It’s been a long time,
friend.”
The Nuhu’anh, or known to the white man
as “Bigfoot” picked up another Cet’aeni by its tail and slung it into
the hole. “Planning to stick around for a while? I hear you’ve got a
liking for our daughter.”
“I am indeed, but I fear you may
need more help than just myself. I’m heading back to find her now and I’ll see
about calling some of my brothers.” Aleksandr bowed to the child of Ariel
and made his way back to the bar, He had a bad feeling and wasn’t sure why.
Aleksandr was
walking to the bar & saw him. His brother. What in the deep Hell was he
doing here…pun intended. “Lucifer the Fallen, what are you doing
here?” “I was pushed, thank you, & I love this area, the sunrise
is amazing. Why are you asking? Feeling guilty?”
“Besides
brother, I don’t go by that name, just as you don’t go by Azrael. Call me
Natasha.” the devil smiled & saw the angel of death wince. Something
had him spooked & it was just his purview to figure out what that could be.
He couldn’t answer prayers, but he could make deals.
Natasha walked into
the bar with Aleksandr & smiled when a woman rushed up to him. Interesting.
Then he smelled the blood & knew something else was going on. “Well,
now it’s a party.” He said to the quiet room, eyeing the men in dark
corners with secrets to hide.
Ashley was in his
arms before she even knew how she got there. She didn’t care if she had just
made a fool of herself in front of the whole bar. No place felt as safe as
Aleksandr’s embrace. She didn’t notice the man shadowing him.
They called him #traitor, but Natasha just wanted to
be his father’s favorite again; the #golden son. These humans &
their flaws, but he had to admit he liked them now that he had spent centuries
among them. He sat waiting for someone to call to him.
Both Aleksandr & Natasha turned at
the same time, their hearing picking up distant gunfire that humans wouldn’t
hear. Not just your hunter out for sport, this was machines of war. Natasha
smiled & stood. “Ooh I do so love a good battle,” he strode for the door.
As much as he tried to conceal it, she
could see the signs of worry in Aleksandr’s eyes. Ashley kissed his lips,
“Go, with Natasha, if you need to. As you can see we’re busy.”
“Promise me, you will not wander
into the woods,” he looked around the
crowded bar. Well after midnight, the solstice party was still in full swing.
Ashely laughed, “I’m so tired, I have no intention of wandering anywhere
but to bed tonight. And I have no desire to encounter those things again. Don’t
worry. We’ll be safe here with Sam and Luke.”
Aleksandr was #captivated by her eyes, her smell, yet
he knew he had to tear himself away. Those others that were here were missing
& the gunfire was a sure #sign of the evil coming. He
kissed her then fled. outside, he leapt,
unfurling his wings & soaring into the sky. Natasha was right there, his
wings out & flying alongside, white wings next to black. “You know
Michael would be so pissed right now,” Lucifer said. “You have no
idea,” Aleksandr replied truthfully
*****
Gentleman, Butler and Tua
The Spirit’s violet eyes glowed as she
reached into the creek and pulled forth a battered wooden case. She held it out
to Butler and Gentleman. “The Gguux of the rivers brought me these. The
poisons inside anger them and sicken my waters.”
Kneeling down,
Gentleman cracked the lid with his Ka-bar. He couldn’t identify the contents
within, at least, not without further assistance in a lab. Rocking back in his
heals, the more political spy and soldier pondered the situation.
“Odd,” He exclaimed.
“What is this, and is it being dumped, or processed nearby.”
“Wondering if we’re about to break up a legal operation?” Butler
guessed. “There’s no doubt that it has to be broken up. I just want to
know if we should do so mercilessly.”
“Recon?” Butler sighed,
calming his itchy trigger finger. “I’ll go get my rifle back.”
“I’ll contact lady.” Gentleman concluded. “And see what she can
find regarding localized operations- “Unless.” And now Gentleman
regarded the others. “Do you know who, or what, is in charge?”
“Nah, never
seen anything like that before,” Toad said. We’ll have to take the boats
up the river see who’s using boxes like that.”
“My one worry may just be
suspicion, but are there any malevolent spirits nearby who desire your
destructions?” Gentleman asked.
“Not destruction,” the River
spirit replied looking out at the flowing water. “Subjugation. Whatever is
spreading this evil wishes to bring we spirits of this land under its control.
To do its bidding.”
The two soldier spies looked at each
other befire Butler shrugged and Gentleman nodded. It was time to get answers,
and to make results. “Show us, please.”
Tua stepped back into the clearing
garbed not in her floral sundress but like one of them. “Toad will take us
up the river on the boat. I will be your guardian since we will be outside the
protective boundaries. We will start tonight on Walker Fork.”
“Still a letsist?”
“Still agnostic while claiming to
be Baptist?” Gentleman chuckled.
“Look,” Butler smiled, playing
the game. “You can’t deny there are mythical hot chicks with bodies worth
their weight in #gold, but to me I see fallen angels and Nephilim.”
“So, does this cement your faith in
the Almighty, or shatter your beliefs, Butler?” “Ah Hell, you know
this only cements my beliefs further.” Butler giggled as the followed
their guide. “I’m just waiting to meet my guardian angels and tap their
golden halos in thanks.”
“Angels?” “Plural.”
Butler paused to flash a victory sign. “With how many close calls I’ve
had, there has to be a team guarding my golden ass. And you can bet your bottom
dollar their earning overtime.”
Tua was puzzled as
she listened to the handsome mortals banter. She shrugged to herself and
scanned the forest. A dark energy made her freeze. “Butler,” she
whispered, reaching back and tapping his gun. “Your metal weapon. Have it
ready. something evil and mortal approaches.”
Neither man had to be told twice.
Slamming home the extended mag, Butler slapped his HK, prepping it to fire.
Dropping low into a crouch, he pulled his shooting glasses over his eyes, even
as Gentleman rolled into the underbrush. No lights were used, as they waited,
ready…
“The Cet’aeni,” Tua hissed.
“Aim for their heads. That is the quickest way-” her words cut off in
a scream as a tail whipped around her ankles and yanked her feet from beneath
her. Gentleman grabbed her arm before the creature could drag her into the
woods. Butler opened fireEar splitting
screeches filled the air and hateful yellow eyes glared from the shade of the
boreal forest. Tua stayed low, covering her ears as the creature released its
hold.
Leveling his shotgun, Gentleman aimed,
squeezed, fired without remorse or banter. Gone was the idle chatter. The only
words spoken were warnings, cautions, orders. Sparse sentences between gunfire
was seldom spoken though. Hand motions, actions, training took over. Butler
fired, semi-auto, controlled bursts. Shell casings tumbled into the darkness,
lost underfoot. The scents of accelerant, oil, blood, filked the air, but both
men ignored it, concentrating on keeping themselves, and their guide, alive.
“Reloading” Gentleman snapped, feeding shells, while Butler covered
for him.
“Behind you!” Butler
cautioned, slipping his starlight scope over his goggles.
With barely a
glance, Gentleman buried his Ka-bar into an enemy’s chest, before he shoved the
sweeper directly against its eyes and fired, ignorant of the fluids and viscera
that suddenly bathed his battle suit.
Was that it? Was
there any other sounds than the ringing in their ears?
Tua sat up, jade green eyes glowing as
she listed with all her senses. Silence prevaled once more. The next thing the
heard were Toad’s heavy breathing and footsteps as he came running up from the
river, rifle at the ready. “We should keep moving,” Tua said, rising
to her feet
She quaked. The Cet’aeni must sense her
in her human host. They knew her weakness. She couldn’t let them catch her, but
she could not abandon these two mortals in their quest. Her sister’s existence,
really all of them, depended on it.
“Good news.” Butler said as he
switched mags, dropping his half-used one into his grab-bag. “These
sept-anee can die.” Cleaning his Ka-bar, Gentleman oiled his beloved
blade. “The first wave did. But we know other creatures are going bump in
this night.” They fell in behind.
“Ket-ANN-ee,” Tua sounded out
for the two men. “The people with Tails. They live in caves and are the
enemy of the Ahtna. Someone has unleashed them. They are a key piece of our
puzzle.” They climbed into the waiting air boat. Tua scanned the forest
one more time.
“Oh… The Cat-Annies. Makes sense
that the ones with tails are named after kitties.” Butler muttered,
patting his pistol. “NO NINE LIVES FOR YOU!” He snapped in imitation
of an infamous Seinfeld character. “Let’s see what other unholy
abominations man can make go boom!”
“Nine lives?” Tua asked
cocking her head to the side and smiling at Butler’s comment. “Why do they
get nine? Are these special cats?” She took a seat in the boat while the
two men loaded their gear and Toad prepared the engine.
Volk sent a howl
echoing through the boreal forest, sending a message to his wolf brethren that
aid was needed in the hunt. Meanwhile his brother raced through the spruce bog,
his bear claws kicking up mud as he tore after the errant moose spirit.
“That, can’t be good news.”
Gentleman whispered, looking about before he added, “I think our firefight
was the catalyst for something big.” “As long as we’re airborne
before Momma moose finds us, I’ll be cool.” Butler said as he hurried to
reload his used magazine.
“Do not worry,” Tua said,
motioning to the sound of her brother’s howl. “My brothers are on the hunt
for the spirit. We need to focus on finding the source of the poison that is
spreading.” The airboat pulled away from the bank, making its way up the
Walker Fork.
“Time to s, s, and S.” Butler exclaimed, smiling.
“I am not explaining that.” Gentleman sighed as the boat glided over the water.
Tua smiled again. She had no idea what they meant, but these mortals were so entertaining. “Where’s our first stop, Toad?”
“I think our best bet is the old Wilks claim. He died sudden last year. Some new folks took over. Been a lot of activity. We’ll park down river, hike in”
A pause, as Gentleman waited for
Butler’s usual joke about ‘humping’ it, but Butler remained uncharacteristically
silent as he sat and finished checking his weapon, reloading the mag, and
wondering aloud if he should fashion some wooden stakes just in case.
“Hey, bro? Do you have any silver on you?”
“No… and sadly your garlic breath has diminished well below lethal levels.” Gentleman sighed. “Which is good news, for all of us.”
Tua’s eyes glowed as she sang a high
pitched haunting melody. Swarms of dragonflies and butterflies crowded the boat
as they continued up the river. Butler and Gentleman gaped as she whispered to
them and they departed. “My spies,” she assured them. “They’ll
return with news.”
“Thank you.” Gentleman replied, allowing himself to be awed by the beauty- Until Butler snorted.
“So, this is the origin of being ‘Bugged’? Eh? Eh?”
The disdain was obvious across Gentleman’s face.
Her lips curled up and a wicked gleam shone in her eyes as she began to sing again. Butler paled at the sound of the approaching swarm of bees.
“I get it! Let’s wait until we get back to the bar to get buzzed!” She changed pitch and the hoards diverted.
Seeing Gentleman’s
awed look, she smiled again. “I am the Spirit of the still waters. The
insects and birds come to my aid when I call, since I am their life source.
Much as my sister is mine,” she closed her eyes, swallowing hard. “If
she falls to darkness, we all do.”
“Then let’s
make sure you do not.” The dark mortal vowed. “Make haste.”
Butler encouraged, completing his reload. “HIYO Silver, Away!”
As Toad pulled the
boat to the shore, Tua cautioned them. “Whatever happens, do not allow
evil men to take me alive in this form. You’ve seen what I can do. Terrible
things will happen if I am trapped in my human host and turned. You must kill
my shell and return it to water.”
“I pray to God that will not
happen,” Gentleman began, “but if it does, we will make it swift and
merciful.”
“But if we can’t-” Butler
pulled a cylinder from his webbing. “This M67 will do the trick. Pull the
pin, let the spoon fly, and hold it near and dear.”
Tua nodded as she
took it. She caressed it with her fingers before attaching it to her belt. Her
green eyes were wide as she said, “It’s amazing that something so
beautiful could be so deadly.” She focused on the hum of the forest.
“There’s both mortals and immortals near.”
Natasha landed & folded his wings as she said that. “How kind of you to say that about me.”
Aleksandr landed & folded his wings in too. “She wasn’t talking about you,” he quipped bowing to the child of Ariel. He turned to the men and smiled. “We’re here to help.”
“Friend, or foe?”
“Let’s keep off the triggers until we know.” Butler sighed. “Last think I want to do is shoot a friendly. With my luck it’ll be a magic mirror. I assume that’s double the bad luck?”
“Squared.” Gentleman joked.
Tua sang in a high pitch, causing a
flurry of golden butterflies to converge on the group. She rushed at Natasha
flinging her slender arms around him. “Uncle! It’s been so long.”
“Well… that answers the friend or
foe.” Butler said. “And I guess asking if they can see my angels is
bad etiquette?” Gentleman nodded.
*****
The Hunt
The female alpha
signaled back and they closed in. Volk’s pulsed raced, hot on the hunt as the
ruminant spirit reared up before the pack, defiant.
He howled and led
the chase, knowing his brother was waiting. The other wolves closed in, forcing
the spirit closer to the river. Two wolves leapt, hamstringing the enormous
beast. He jumped for the jugular.
The Moose spirit
shook them all off. His brother charged into the fray, leaping between the bull
and the injured wolves with a growl. The moose spirit lowered his rack and
charged. The giant bear growled and swiped with his mighty paws, not entirely
escaping from the sharp tines of the giant rack. Volk leapt to his brother’s
defense, disemboweling the mighty beast as his brother dragged it toward the
flowing river. The wolf pack aided. Their sister, the Spirit of the
Flowing Waters waited to take it into her embrace. His brother dragged him
under by the throat and held him there while the evil spirit was cleansed from
their brother. A giant wounded moose emerged from the water and Volk gave a
signal. The pack closed in and made their kill.
Meanwhile, their
brother, the Spirit of the Ruminates emerged from the waters shaken and
confused.
“Welcome back,
brother,” Volk said as he huddled in Chena’s embrace, amber eyes scanning
the tundra as he cowered. “It’s okay,” she whispered
The summer Solstice is a special time here in Alaska, filled with parties and festivals. We hold our long, beautiful summer days dear to our hearts. Especially since we know the dark, cold days of winter are coming.
For Solstice, Ray and I typically head out to the cabin in Chicken. Solstice weekend is traditionally the Dust to Dawson bike ride and Chicken is one of the safety stops. It is fun to see motor cyclists from all over the world ride through on their way to the poker tournament in Dawson City, YT.
This is what originally inspired the idea for my writing prompt and to have DK Marie’s character, Liberty meet mine in Chicken, and run the bar.
Here is last weekend’s story compiled as much as I could find of your tweet’s. Thanks everyone for participating. I will chick in as much as I can before we go off the grid for the weekend. Run wild with the prompt and have fun with my theme:
SOLSTICE!
Shannon
Flattered by the
attention from this hot, young guy, she couldn’t take him seriously. She
smiled, and tried to brush him off with a light remark about her age.
“You’re not old,” he said, “you’re vintage.” The ways his
eyes swept over her made her reconsider his intent.
An ancient heat in
his amber-brown eyes ignited a spark in her very core. “What I lack in
‘age’ I make up for in experience.” He took her hand and pressed it to his
lips, letting his breath linger against her skin.
he young Adonis on the porch assumed a
casual stance, leaning against the post, thumbs hooked in his belt loops. Her
eyes drifted down to his hands, and she couldn’t help noticing how nicely his
jeans fit. Shannon felt her face flush as heat spread through her
He basked in the
heat from her lovely gaze. He turned his head at a low growl and a noise from
the woods behind them. He gave a wolfish grin at his brother who scowled and
walked toward the bar. “That’s my brother. Don’t mind his ill manners.
He’s not very social”
Shannon could barely look away, but she
glanced at the man walking toward the bar. From where she sat, he looked at
least as delectable as his brother. Something in his lithe movement made her
heart beat faster. If there was nothing else about Chicken, god the scenery was
awesome
Returning her gaze to the young man in
front of her, she asked him if he lived here. “Sometimes,” he
answered, with a lazy grin that sent a shiver up her spine. She indicated the
spot next to her, inviting him to sit. “Can I get you a drink?” she
asked. “Or anything?”
Liberty
She stepped from the airport doors &
paused. The heat was unexpected. Where was the cold & fog? She looked up
& read the sign. Yup, Alaska. Liberty shrugged & searched for Ashley,
figuring this would be one surprise among many.
“Liberty!” Ashley shouted over
the throng of tourists. She rushed to her friend and wrapped her arms around
her. “So glad you made it. I have so much to tell you. We’ll grab lunch
then head to Merrill Field. Sam’s getting the Beaver ready to fly us back to
Chicken.”
Always a sentient
woman,all it took was a loving, emotional hug to know something was different
with her friend. For now,they’d hold tight to their secrets &focus on the
glow of seeing each other after too many passing seasons.
The Beaver swayed on
the gentle wind blowing off the inlet as Sam lifted the plane into the Alaska
summer sky. “Should be clear skies all the way to Chicken. We’ll Fly right
by the Matanuska Glacier.” Ashley smiled to see Liberty’s face pressed to
the window
Liberty tried to enjoy the wonderful
Alaskan view but if they didn’t land soon they’d need a doctor and cleaning
crew. Her nerves and belly didn’t agree with the dips and dives of the
single-engine plane.
When the little plane landed, Liberty
ran outside, wanting to embrace a tree and kiss the ground. Never again. When
it was time to leave Chicken, Alaska, she was going to walk to the main,
international airport.
Random
Cecelia shifted in
her seat and bit down hard on her lip. The #heat created
between her thighs from Lavonda’s delicate touch set her heart
pitter-pattering. Embracing in a corner booth and distracting the other patrons
from Alexis who was emptying the register.
Once Lavonda and Alexis
had cleared out, taking the #heat with
them, Cecelia went up to the bar to order a scotch. She paid with some of the
very same coin they’d lifted together.
Ashley and
Aleksander
Everywhere Aleksandr
had kissed her, #burned. Not like fire, more like an intense #heat that
turned her on still. Ashley tried to get him out of her mind, yet the #respect he had shown her left her stunned. “Get it together girl.”
Ashley realized the
heat wrapped around her was no dream. She she felt no shame about her
dishabille, his dark wings covered them both as they lay on her bed.
“Aleksander,” she snuggled into his arms. “I’ll have to leave
the door open all the time.”
Natasha walked
though the airport & ran his fingers thru his dark hair. He looked out of
place with a fancy suit jacket and faded jeans, but he had always been a rebel.
“Flying first class sir?” The lady asked. Natasha smiled “No I like to fly
solo.”
