January 28, 2024

A teaser of warmth

The weather has been teasing us lately - Friday was 65F (18C) and it was glorious to be outside and not freezing my butt off. As the snow melted and the temperatures rose, the fog through the mountains was gorgeous to see (but not so great to drive in).

Had a couple of days where I was dealing with a head cold and felt like crap, so I read and watched TV and avoided writing. Writing when you feel like your head is stuffed with wool is not a good idea, so I just didn’t. One of the benefits of being an indie business is that you can take a few days off and the only guilt you get is from your own desire to get back to work - not someone telling you that you failed the team.

How are you liking the serialized stories? Let me know what you think:

Still working on Fate or Destiny, but should be done in the next couple of weeks. I’ve got a new chapter for that one dropping for the serialization every four or five days. The cold set me back a bit. You can get the book preordered on my site for less, or everywhere else.

Another change I’ve made recently is I dropped my KU subscription (for me, as a reader) and got a Kobo Plus subscription. It’s cheaper and there is no limit to how many books you can borrow. Also - it is non-exclusive for authors, so there is a much wider selection. I’m really enjoying it! In fact, all of my books are in Kobo Plus, so if you sign up, you can read everything with your subscription. Here’s some info about Kobo Plus:

There are a lot of you that are new this week, so take a minute and catch up with the last four weeks newsletters if you’d like. You get a month of back posts available with the free subscription - and the whole catalog when you get a paid one.
Do I think my coffee chats with you are worth paying for? Maybe…but I know the serialized stuff is worth it.

And So It Begins - Chapter Two - Subscribers Only

And So It Begins - Chapter Two - Alexandria, VA 1943

With the war making so many things scarce due to rationing, Jo took the time to savor her morning cup of tea. She sat in the alcove of Dr. Wilder’s apartments in The Carlyle House that she’d purchased around 1918 after they’d rapidly outgrown their quarters at the Dulany House on Duke Street. The doctor was still an active member of S.I.N., but as he was nearing a century in age and still looked as if he were in his fifties, he didn’t go out and about around humans as much anymore.

“I wish you wouldn’t wear those vulgar things in my presence,” Dr. Wilder told Jo. “I find them horribly offensive.”

Jo plucked at the brushed cotton fabric of her trousers and smiled at him. “They’re beyond comfortable and even Vogue has accepted they have a purpose. Don’t worry, Theo. I’ll still dress appropriately for dinner. I’ve got to train some of the new recruits today and I’ll not be fussing with skirts in the field.”

Dr. Wilder grumbled good-naturedly and refreshed their tea cups. “This latest group is one of the best we’ve had, don’t you agree?”

“There are more shifters in this one. They handle the physical challenges best. We also have two hunters in this group. Humans, yes, but they’re some of the savvier intelligence collectors I’ve ever seen. They even beat out the three vampires for their intrigue skills.”

“That’s because humans can approach humans and not trigger the sympathetic response, unlike a vampire, shifter, or even some witches,” Wilder said.

“Sympathetic response?” Jo asked.

“To put it bluntly, they’re not about to evacuate their bowels when approached by a human, unlike when they’re approached by a creature that looks on them as food,” Wilder offered dryly.

Jo blinked at him, then chuckled. “If you say so. Whatever the reason, it works and I’m just glad it does. Oh, did you hear about the latest member of the OSS?”

“That new Office of Strategic Services set up last year?” Wilder asked.

“That’s the one. Moe Berg is now an official member of the OSS. You know, the baseball player?” Jo said. “The baseball player that’s been a spy for the past twelve years or more?”

Wilder chuckled. “The best kept secret that every US spy knew anyway. I mean, what baseball player needs seven languages?”

“Those photos he took while playing ball in Tokyo were a great help in planning the bombing raids over the city last year,” Jo told him.

“Still, how effective can a spy be when half the city knows he’s a spy?” Wilder asked.

“As long as the target doesn’t know he’s a spy, it’s all good, right?” Jo replied with a wink. “Ah, well. I need to get to work. I heard Chef is making meatloaf with roasted vegetables and a fruit compote for dinner tonight. I’m glad we turned that whole section beyond the fence into a garden.”

“It’s definitely expanded the scope of Chef’s offerings. Be safe out there, Jo. They may be our recruits, but they aren’t loyal to us yet.”

Jo gave him a nod and turned to leave the room. One thing she never doubted was Wilder’s sense of danger. It had kept them all alive more than once.

Back when they’d first settled in Alexandria, in 1910, and had taken rooms in the Duke Street house, there had been a couple of close calls for Dr. Wilder, Edison, and herself.  One of the reasons they’d moved to Carlyle house was because Stabler’s house always had strangers in and out and there was precious little in the way of security.

One man, a client of Stabler’s apothecary business, was a Mr. Josiah Weems. He somehow found his way to their suite of rooms and walked in on Jo feeding on Edison. Wilder had warned them that Mr. Weems had a negative feeling about him, so when he showed up in their rooms, Wilder appeared behind him and kept him from running through the house, screaming that there was a blood sacrifice going on in the upstairs suite.

It took Jo a solid twenty minutes of ‘charming’ him to get him to forget what he’d seen, and that evening, the three of them had commenced searching for new accommodations. There were other close calls before they could finally purchase the Carlyle house and complete the renovations necessary to make it habitable. They didn’t bother with making the outside of the structure look polished and presentable, and they took care to make sure that while the outbuildings were structurally sound, they didn’t look very stable or secure. Appearances could dissuade even the most random social calls, and they took advantage of the worn presentation to add it to their arsenal of protections.

The old Civil War hospital on the grounds looked as if it were ready to collapse in upon itself, but inside it was bright and comfortable, and made a great barracks for the trainees. The barn at the back of the property made an excellent physical training facility, while classes were held in the lower level of the barracks. All in all, it was, so far, a successful mirage.

Jo didn’t fool herself into thinking it could continue this way, but for now it served their purposes.

After dinner, Jo sat in her private parlor with two of the women that were part of the Network, graduates from their second training class when they were still fixing up Carlyle House and preparing to take on more students. In most gatherings of vampires, no one asked when someone was turned or what prompted the event. It was considered inappropriate to ask such a personal question.

However, in a small classroom setting that afternoon, one of the hunter trainees had asked if they could learn more about how vampires and shifters had come to be. They were respectful in their question and understood that it was not often discussed, but explained that it would help them better understand the other species.

Anne Johnson and Sandra Boscombe were also vampires and women that Jo respected and considered not only good agents, but excellent teachers. The plan was to figure out how much information to share, and how best to share it.

“I asked to be turned,” Anne said. “But it was the only way to survive after my village was raided by the Barbary corsairs.” Anne was a beautiful Egyptian woman with tawny skin, dark brown eyes and sleek black locks who had been older than Jo when she was turned, but had been a vampire about fifty years less than Jo.

Sandra gave a sad smile. “I was turned against my will. I’m not comfortable discussing it, but I’m willing to talk about the difficulties of being newly turned and not having a mentor.”

Jo took a sip of her tea and sighed. “I was sixteen and near death when I was turned. I wasn’t given a choice, and he kept me with him until I was ready to be on my own. But it was not a pleasant transition and most definitely was not the kind of situation a young girl should be in.”

The conversation continued until they’d outlined a way to give the students enough information to be useful without oversharing, then Sandra and Anne left and Jo changed into her nightgown and robe.

She didn’t really need to sleep, but she did like to lie down to rest and quiet her mind. Often, her nighttime hours were spent reading. Sometimes, she’d play her violin and get lost in the music.

Tonight, she couldn’t keep her focus on the book in her hands, and she had no interest in her violin. The memories came rolling through like a tidal wave and she closed her eyes and let them wash over her.

Sometimes, you had to remember in order to forget.

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Get Chapter Three next week! Or buy the book here and read it now.