GPS for Writing

GPS FOR WRITING

     (I wrote this article in 2009 after a road trip to California. Since then, self-publishing has forged a new direction for many of us. I’ve updated this to reflect the changes, but the basic message is the same: start with a road map even if you decide to take a detour. Another update: after that trip we bought a GPS, and more recently, we bought a new car that has a navigation system. If we travel anywhere now where we need to rent a car, we bring our GPS. I also now have a Smartphone and am learning how to use the navigation APP on that. I don’t anticipate we’ll get lost much, but then, maybe we will, and maybe we’ll discover another hidden gem.)

     Do you have a GPS in your car or as an APP on your phone? It seems everyone nowadays has a GPS in some form or another. Before our 2009 trip up the California coast, I decided we should buy a GPS and take it with us. My husband disagreed, saying the maps we got from AAA would be enough to guide us. When we picked up the rental car, we turned down the rental company’s GPS because we didn’t want to pay $140 when we could buy one for about $50 more at home. Big, big mistake.

                                                               

     We got lost a lot on that trip. A lot. My husband becomes unglued when he gets lost. At one point I was writing a story in my head titled, “A GPS Would Have Saved My Marriage.” We finally calmed down and resigned ourselves to getting lost at times. We missed many of the sights we’d wanted to see, partly because the state of California doesn’t believe in signs, partly because we didn’t have a GPS, and partly because I didn’t thoroughly read the books AAA gave us. We missed Big Sur, which was one of the main things we’d wanted to see. On the other hand, while lost we stumbled onto Ventura, a true gem of a beach town. Now I know where all the Sixties hippies went. We spent a wonderful, unexpected afternoon in sunny, beautiful, quirky Ventura and decided it was a place in which we could happily live.

                                                                  

Big Sur

                                                                      

               What does this have to do with writing? Do you have a GPS for your writing? Do you know what direction you want your writing to take, or are you barreling down the freeway and hoping for the best? When you started writing to sell, did you map out a plan? Did you decide to attend conferences and workshops to learn all you could about the craft of writing? Then, did you write and write and hone your craft? Or did you write with no real direction, feeling you didn’t need to study the market, that your books would find their way to the right publishers, like a GPS you plug in with no destination and wait for it to take you somewhere?

     I know writers whose plan it is to sell only to a big New York house, and if they don’t, they’ll put their manuscripts into the proverbial drawer rather than go with an epub or a small press, or indie publish. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s their choice. Yet, they may be cheating themselves by not recalculating their direction. I can hear that inner voice now going, “Recalculating, recalculating.” What if one of their manuscripts is a little too out of the box for the big houses? Maybe a reputable epub or small press would love it. Maybe indie pubbing that unusual story will bring major success. There are times when you might need to veer off onto small detours. You never know where those detours will take you.

     By all means, get back onto the main highway after the detour if you still want, but by opening yourself to new roads and taking a less traditional publishing route, you’ll have a book out there, a book people will want to read. Isn’t that better than keeping the book hidden in a drawer?  

     On our California trip, we didn’t get to see Big Sur, but we discovered Ventura. And I’m so glad we did. When I started writing, there were one or two epubs and they were very new and earned no respect from the writing community. Like most of my fellow members of RWA, I dreamed of selling to a big NY house. After I was rejected by several big publishers, someone suggested I submit to Avalon Books, a small press. I hadn’t considered a small press. I submitted and I sold to them. My book, a traditional romance, gave me entry into RWA PAN.

Busy Bee Cafe, Ventura, CA

                                                                 

     Since then, numerous epubs have sprung up. Some fell by the wayside, but many others are thriving. I contracted for my second book, a romantic suspense, with The Wild Rose Press. In GPS terms, I haven’t found Big Sur, the NY publishers, but I found my publishing Ventura, small press and epubs, and now indie publishing. All places where I’ve settled comfortably. I’m no longer heading down the expressway hoping to someday sell to a large publisher. I’ve discovered the joys of driving a less traditional route.

     You might have to change direction from time to time, but the important thing is to know where you’re going. Study the market, write what you love, learn all you can and drive forward into that publishing freeway. But be prepared for detours and know those unexpected twists in the road might lead you to greater adventures.

       Get lost in a book this summer, read Sizzling Summer, a three-book set of full-length romances I'm privileged to be part of. When summer is over, Sizzling Summer will be gone too. Only 99 cents at Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

How hot do you like your romance? 

A special three-book set 
Lynn Reynolds 
Ann Whitaker 
Cara Marsi 

Love Capri Style by Lynn Reynolds 
A sexy, sun-drenched romance set on the island of Capri. Can inept journalist Amanda Jackson get an exclusive on playboy Eric Greyford, or will she wind up as just another item on the gossip pages of his newspaper? 

Dog Nanny by Ann Whitaker 
A romantic comedy set in the heart of Texas 
When vet tech Julie Shields agrees to train two delinquent poodles to save them from becoming doggies of divorce, she doesn't count on having to harness her desire for hunky pilot Nick Worthington. 

A Catered Romance by Cara Marsi 
There's more than business brewing between two old high school flames. 
Stubbornly self-reliant Mary Beth Kendrick needs financial backing to keep her catering business cooking. A looming corporate buyout forces her to accept help from Tom Sackett, the man who broke her heart and left her with no appetite for love.

  

http://www.amazon.com/Sizzling-Summer/dp/B00JZCE1SG/?tag=carmaraut-20

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/sizzling-summer-lynn-reynolds/1119638711?ean=2940149588060

    

      

    

     

My So-Called Life

It’s my turn to interview myself. Warning: I lead a dull life.

Remember, one commenter will win a RB4U T-shirt. So bring on those comments! And don’t forget to leave your email so we can contact you for your snail mail address.

Here’s my “official” bio:

Cara Marsi, an award-winning author and self-proclaimed TV junkie, is a former corporate drone and cubicle dweller. Freed of her fabric-covered cage, she can now indulge her love of all things romance. She craves books with happy endings and loves to write about independent heroines and the strong heroes who love them. And she loves to put her characters in dangerous situations or situations merely dangerous to their hearts and watch them fight for the happy endings they deserve.

An eclectic author, Cara is published in romantic suspense, paranormal romance, and contemporary romance. She’s also published numerous short romance stories in national women’s magazines and online. When not traveling or dreaming of traveling, Cara and her husband live on the East Coast in a house ruled by their fat black diva of a cat named Killer.

And now to the questions.

1. Your novel is being made into a TV series/movie. Who’s in your dream cast?

           

            That’s easy. My fantasy is that A Groom for Christmas will be made into a Hallmark movie (Hallmark Channel, are you listening?). Jake Falco would be played by swoon-worthy Tom Mison of TV’s Sleepy Hollow. Graceann Palmer would be played by Amy Adams or Emma Stone, both with dark hair. See Mison below.

2.  What’s your writing schedule like? Do you strive for a certain number of words each day?

            What writing schedule?

3.  What is the most important thing you do for your career now, as compared to when you first started writing?

            I write more because I’m no longer working full time as I was when I first published. I also do lots more promo than I did before. My first book was a hardback from Avalon Books. They paid a flat fee and no royalties. Promo wouldn’t have changed what I made so I did no promo. Ah, those were the days.

4.  How much of yourself is hidden in the characters in your book?

           

            Lots. My heroines all have a little of me in them. Like me, they’ve been responsible and dependable, like a pet dog, always doing what is expected, all their lives. I like to get them out of that bubble and shake things up. I like to write stories about characters, especially women, who are deterimined to change their lives.

5. Covers. Did you ever get one you wish you could change?

            Yes! I hated the cover Avalon gave me for my first book, A Catered Affair. See it below. Do you agree? Oh, wait, I did change the cover when I got the rights back, revised the story, and renamed it A Catered Romance. See my new cover next to the old one.

6.  How do you choose names for your characters?

            I name the villains after old boyfriends who dumped me, my ex-husband and the mean girls who made my life hell in high school. I look for age-appropriate names for my heroes and heroines. I have a list of the most popular baby names from the early 80’s which would be when most of my characters are born. I consult that for first names. For last names, I search the Internet for ethnic names that are easy to spell and pronounce. The heroes must have strong names. I try to give at least one of my main characters an Italian last name, as that’s my heritage. The heroine in A Groom for Christmas is Graceann, named after one of my nieces. The heroine in Murder, Mi Amore is Lexie, named after another niece. Some of the heroes in my short stories have been named after my nephews.

7.  Have you ever used an incident from your real life in one of your books?

            Yes. In A Catered Romance, I took a hurtful thing the guy I crushed on in seventh grade said about me and expanded it to form the inciting incident in the story. In one I’ve just written, Capri Nights (no release date), I used the experience I had when I visited the Isle of Capri in Italy when I was twenty. I met an Italian named Giuseppe Desiderio, made out with him on the roof of the Europa Palace Hotel, and wrote to him for six months after I got home. Most of my short stories are based on things that happened to me. Of course, I change the incidents to make them deeper and more interesting than they really were. Remember, my life is dull.

Also, on that same trip to Capri, I had a date earlier in the day with another Italian guy who worked at our hotel (two dates in one day!). I was on some mountain with this guy and he got fresh with me so I hauled off and hit him with my purse. In Murder, Mi Amore, my heroine hauls off and whacks a guy with her purse because he’s attacking the hero. Yes, I hit one guy for trying to kiss me and I made out with another guy that same day. But I was wildly attracted to the second guy. Makes all the difference.

8.  If you could give a younger version of yourself advice, what would it be?

     Start writing in your twenties and not wait until your late forties to begin. And embrace your paleness and stay out of the sun.    

            9.  How many stories are swirling around in your head? Do you keep a mental list, a computer file, or a spiral notebook filled with the ideas?

            Lots of stories. I keep everything mentioned above: a mental list, a computer file and a spiral notebook. I’m obsessive about some things.

            10.  Of all your characters, who’s your favorite and why?

            That’s like asking a mother which of her children is her favorite. I confess I fall in love with each of my heroes. I like my heroines, but I love my heroes. Right now, I’m in love with Jake from A Groom for Christmas, but the man who’s held my heart the longest is Logan Tanner from Logan’s Redemption. Logan had been a character in my mind for so long before I wrote him. He’s special to me.

            Drumroll!! Now for the fun stuff.

            1. What’s your favorite holiday and why?

                        Christmas. I love the music, the excitement in the air, the decorations, the food, getting together with friends and family.

            2.  What are two things people might be surprised to know about you?

                        When I was in my late teens, I worked part-time at my local Sears store. One Easter season, they made me dress in a bunny outfit and walk around the store handing out candy from a basket I carried. This wasn’t a Playboy bunny outfit, but a big, bulky thing that looked like a child’s PJ’s with feet. I had big rabbit ears too. Most humiliating experience of my life.

                        I ate kangaroo meat on a trip to Australia. Tastes like chicken.

            3.  As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?

                        A writer, an anthropologist and a teacher. Not all at the same time and not necessarily in that order.

            4.  Favorite food.

            That’s a hard one. I have a hearty and eclectic appetite. I eat most everything. I’ve eaten snails, the aforementioned kangaroo meat, and alligator in South Carolina. I won’t eat muskrat, though, which is a delicacy in some parts of my state.

            5.  Favorite happy memory.

                        Coming down the stairs Christmas morning when I was little and seeing all those gifts under the tree.

            6.  Favorite drink.

                        Wine. What else is there?

            7.  Hot summer days or chilly winter nights?

                        Summer, all the way, baby.

            8.  What is the top thing on your bucket list?

                        To live in Arizona, or at least live there part of the year, during winter so I can escape the cold back East. I’ve visited there many times. I told my husband if I die before him, he should spread my ashes in the Arizona desert because that’s probably the only way I’ll get there permanently.

            9.  If you could have a super power, what would it be?

                        To clean my house with a twitch of my nose like Samantha in Bewitched.

Find me at: www.caramarsi.com

Twitter: @CaraMarsi

Facebook: https://facebook.com/authorcaramarsi

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/caramarsi/

I love hearing from readers and fellow authors

Blurb from my latest release, A Groom for Christmas:

When a young woman hires her hometown’s former bad boy to be her pretend fiancé for the holidays, she finds she can’t wrap up her feelings as easily as a Christmas gift.

New York jewelry designer Graceann Palmer has two days to find a fiancé to bring home to Pennsylvania for the holidays so her matchmaking mama will quit fixing her up with jerks. The Falcon, a motorcycle-riding, leather-clad former high school crush, helped her out once before. Maybe he'll do it again.

Jake Falco, man of many mysteries, is back in town on a mission—one the people of Spirit Lake most likely won't appreciate. When Graceann presents him with her crazy scheme, it gives him something he's always wanted—a chance to get to know Graceann. It also gives him the perfect opportunity to add fuel to his project of revenge.

But as Jake and Graceann grow closer, their engagement-of-convenience begins to feel like the real deal—until Jake’s secrets are revealed.

Can a relationship that began with lies and secrets bloom like a rare Christmas rose into happily-ever-after?

Buy links:

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00G03I5UI/?tag=carmaraut-20

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-groom-for-christmas-cara-marsi/1117185595?ean=2940148677871

http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/a-groom-for-christmas

https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/a-groom-for-christmas/id740347966?mt=11

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/371969

This book is also available in print.

             

           

LET ME INTRODUCE MYSELF

Let Me Introduce Myself

by

Cara Marsi

I’m a new member author and this is my first post. I want to thank Marianne for inviting me to be a member author, and I look forward to getting to know everyone. Marianne suggested I introduce myself, so here’s a little about me. My name is Carolyn Matkowsky, but I write under Cara Marsi.

It took ten long years of writing and rejections before I sold my first book. That book, “A Catered Affair,” a sweet, traditional romance, was published by Avalon Books under my real name. Avalon publishes in hardback, and they sell directly to libraries. I didn’t want a pen name because I always wanted to write under my real name. I figured I’d worked hard enough to sell a book and I wanted people to know I’d made it. However, I soon found out readers had a hard time spelling and pronouncing Matkowsky. When I was nominated in 2003 as an up and coming author in a romance magazine’s readers’ poll, my name was horribly misspelled. That decided me to take a pen name that was easy to say and spell. I’ve been Cara Marsi ever since.

I thought once I sold a book I was well on my way to being multi-published. Was I wrong. It took me four more years to sell another one. In 2007 I contracted with The Wild Rose Press for my romantic suspense, “Logan’s Redemption.” Despite glowing reviews, my sales were disappointing. In 2010 I got my rights back and published “Logan’s Redemption” myself on Kindle. The sales have been great, and I couldn’t be happier. I gave new life to a book I love, and thousands of people have now read it.

I’m a slow writer. While I struggled to complete a paranormal romance, my first attempt at that genre, I became discouraged and considered giving up writing altogether. Then I discovered short story writing. I sold my first short story to New Love Stories Magazine (now defunct) in early 2009. Since then, I’ve sold ten short romance stories to the Trues (True Love, True Romance, True Story, True Experience). Sadly, of all those, only True Story remains. The magazines are owned by Dorchester, and we all know about their troubles. I hope and pray that Dorchester continues to publish True Story and its sister magazine, True Confessions. I love writing for the Trues, and I’ve sold every story I submitted to them. Writing short stories kept me in the game when I had doubts about my ability to publish again.

In late 2009, I put aside the paranormal and began writing a novella for the romantic suspense series, Jewels of the Night, from The Wild Rose Press. I finished that novella in four months, a record for me. The Wild Rose Press offered a contract, and “Murder, Mi Amore,” set almost entirely in Rome, Italy, was released December 15, 2010. I completed my paranormal romance, “Cursed Mates,” and Noble Romance Publishing offered a contract. “Cursed Mates” was released December 13, 2010. After a dry spell of no books, I had two releases within two days of each other.

I’ve just sold another short story to True Story magazine, for their August issue, and I’ve completed a sweet romance novella, “Wedding Dreams,” which I plan to publish myself. I’ve had it professionally edited by a wonderful and talented editor. I wouldn’t put a book up without it being edited.

On a personal note, I live on the East Coast with my husband and a fat black cat named Killer. She’s a sweetheart. My husband can be a sweetheart too, sometimes. We have one son who lives in Las Vegas. I miss him and wish I lived closer to him. If I could convince my husband to move to the Phoenix area of Arizona, I’d be in heaven.

When I’m not writing, I’m hitting the gym (five days a week), reading, watching TV (I’m a TV junkie), and planning our next vacation. I love to travel. I set my stories either in places we’ve visited or places close to home. As I mentioned, “Murder, Mi Amore” is set almost entirely in Rome, Italy. The last chapter is set in Las Vegas. We visited Italy in 2006, and we’ve been to Vegas many times. “Cursed Mates” is set in Maine, a place we’ve also visited and loved. My book with Avalon is set in Wilmington, Delaware; “Logan’s Redemption” takes place in Philadelphia, a city close to us. All my short stories are set in Delaware, New Jersey and Pennsylvania.

I grew up in the corporate world. I like to say I’m a former corporate drone and cubicle dweller. I worked for the local phone company, now called Verizon, for over two decades, then worked for an insurance company. I was downsized from my job in 2008, and am now realizing my dream of writing all day if I want.

So there you have it – my life, such as it is.

Everyone Needs a Wife

Even though there's some snow and rain falling outside right now (I'm writing this a day in advance of its posting), the family can't get enough wintry weather. As you read this, I'm driving to the mountains for the last ski vacation of the year.

What makes this especially interesting is that, next month Avalon Books will release the first of my Nobody trilogy: Nobody's Darling. The idea for Nobody's Darling came about after just such a spring ski trip. Allow me to explain. When my family goes on vacation, we don't stay in hotels. We rent condos so that we have plenty of room and a well equipped kitchen. The upside: I'm never without coffee. The downside: I'm still in charge of laundry, cooking, and cleaning...even on vacation! This probably explains why RWA's National Conference is my true vacation every year.

Anyway, a few years ago, after one such family vacation, we came home to a beautiful spring day in our neighborhood. While Dad took the kids on a long bike ride for ice cream, I unpacked the car, started the laundry, picked up the dog at the kennel and bathed her, and the thought suddenly struck me.

***I need a wife.***

An idea was born. In Nobody's Darling, April Raine runs a parenting services organization. Her employees stay home with sick kids, schlep children from one sports practice to another, help with homework, pick up dry cleaning, bake cupcakes for bake sales, and handle lots of other tasks that pile up for working parents. Television's famous "Dr. Jeff," believes businesses like April's actually do more harm to families than good. To the delight of a daytime talk show's audience, April and Dr. Jeff will spend a month in an isolated cabin full of recording equipment in the Adirondacks in an updated battle of the sexes. When the dust settles, who'll come out on top? The mom? The doc? Or will love prevail?

Here's one of my favorite scenes, based on an actual episode in my own wacky home life:

He paced the kitchen behind her until the constant back and forth sent an army of annoyance marching down her spine. When the pacing continued for nearly thirty minutes, she considered tying him to a chair.


Just when she decided to retrieve the excess clothesline, he popped his head across her writing pad. “I think I’ll make tuna salad for lunch.”

“I’m very happy for you.”

“Would you like some?”

“No, thank you.”

“Okay then.” He straightened and walked to the pantry.

Relieved at having him occupied with some task, however lame, April returned her attention to her letter. “…I don’t know if you’ve seen any of the television footage (unless Dad or Lori taped it for you) because you should be in school, but so far, I’m holding my own against--”

“Oh, for God’s sake, where is the blasted tuna?” Jeff’s noisy fumbling in the pantry broke her concentration. “You’d think with a cabinet this deep, someone would have thought to mount a light inside.”

Slamming her palm on the counter, she rose from her stool, abandoning her letter for a quieter time and place--maybe a foxhole in Afghanistan.

“Move,” she ordered, emphasizing her demand with a quick nudge of her elbow to his chest. A split second later, she held the can before his face. “Right here in the front, Jeff.”

“Well, I probably moved it into the line of sight while I was digging in the back,” he mumbled.

“Uh-huh.”

Men. She’d never come across one who could find an item in a pantry, closet, or garage unless it sprouted arms and waved with wild abandon.

While she watched him, impatience growing, he spun around the kitchen, that same puzzled look never leaving his face. “Where’s the can opener?”



Exhaling on a sigh, she opened the utensil drawer and pulled out the necessary item.

“What’s that?” he asked, turning the can opener over in his hands as if it were an ancient relic from an archaeological dig.

“A can opener, silly!”

“Don’t we have an electric one?”

She shook her head. “‘Fraid not.”

“Well, then, how do you use one of these things?”

Lips twisted in a smirk, she took the opener and can from him. “Here.” She clamped the jaws of the opener around the can’s rim and cranked the handle a few times. “Just like this. You think you can take it from here, Doctor?”



“No need to get snotty,” he replied. “I’ve just never seen one of these before.” He took the can from her. “Thank you. I’m sure I’ll be fine now. Go on back to your letter.”

April knew better than to even try. Returning to her seat, she waited patiently and counted to herself.

One… two… three… four… five--

“Oh, for God’s sake!”

She’d reached five before the next catastrophe struck. Not bad.

“What do you need now?”

“I spilled tuna juice all over myself trying to take the lid off.”

He not only got the fishy liquid on himself, he spilled smelly droplets all over the floor. The floor she’d scrubbed clean yesterday.

“Okay, Jeff, you win.” With another exasperated head shake, she grabbed a roll of paper towels and knelt to wipe up the mess. “Go change your clothes before you have every cat for miles howling outside our door. Then you can start a fire for us while I make your lunch.”

“Oh, no, you don’t. You just want to make me look inept in the kitchen.”

“You’re doing a fairly good job of that on your own,” she replied. “Now go.”

Welcome to My World!

As the newest member author of RBRU, I thought I'd use my inaugural post to play hostess. So come inside my cyber house and let's chat.

I'm a bipolar writer. Under the name, Gina Ardito, I write sweet, lighthearted contemporary romances. But my slightly darker/older alter ego, Katherine Brandon, writes epic historicals with a bit of a spicy bent--not erotic, mind you. Just no closed bedroom doors, like in Gina's stories. My worlds aren't too far apart so it's fairly easy to straddle them.

Katherine has three books releasing this year with The Wild Rose Press, all part of her Kismet series. Book I, Kismet's Angel, was released in May, Kismet's Revenge (Book II) will be released in August and the third book, Kismet's Salvation is due out in October.

Gina will have three books out, her Nobody series, with Avalon Books over the next eighteen months.

I'm also co-founder and president of Dunes & Dreams, the eastern Long Island chapter of Romance Writers of America®. In that role, I lead a group of about twenty very talented romance writers--half published, half unpublished. We host monthly meetings, online workshops, booksignings, and promote romance writing and reading. On a month to month basis, I'll oversee our meetings, assign chairpersons to different activities like contests and conferences, and act as a liaison between our members and the national organization, as well as our members and the public.

I'm a coffee addict (big surprise!) and my favorite invention of the last few years is the Keurig coffee system, which allows me to brew one perfect cup of coffee whenever I want it.

For today, I'm going to introduce you to Katherine Brandon's first historical novel, Kismet's Angel, which is available now from The Wild Rose Press. I hope you'll enjoy this peek into my work!

Prologue

In a glistening castle spun from vapor and dreams, Kismet, the goddess of fate, sits upon her celestial throne. While she awaits word from her handmaidens, her fingers drum the armrest, scattering astral dust into perfumed air.

At last the dark-haired Rosamond, mistress of the virtuous, flutters into the chamber and makes her obeisance. “She has arrived, Peerless One,” her melodic voice sings. “Nearly a month too soon.”

“Nevertheless,” Kismet replies, a gentle chastisement, “she is welcome.”

Rising in the mauve sky, the goddess transmutes to pour as incandescent gold into the viewing room. While a cluster of lovely women watches, the light grows denser until the goddess returns to her opaque form. “Where is she, Rosamond?”

“Hyderabad, India, Peerless One. On earth, the year is 1793.”

From her special aperture, Kismet searches the blue planet, but discerns nothing save darkness and rain. A wave of her hand sends a flash of lightning to hurtle downward, illuminating the earthen sky and a ramshackle cottage’s occupant…

****

Summer lightning speared the gloomy room, startling Ahmed Manu from his chair. He trudged to the window and lifted a trembling hand to the ragged curtain. Nothing stirred but the banyan trees, shuddering beneath the wind’s fury, weeping in grief.

I will not cry. He dropped the curtain. I will not cry.

What would become of him now? Only Kismet knew what the Nizam would do when he learned of his favorite child’s death. The hairs on the back of Ahmed’s neck prickled at the imagined cold steel of a royal executioner’s axe.

Outside, thunder rumbled, combining with the low thud of approaching hooves.

Inhaling courage from the storm, he opened the scarred wooden door. The wind whipped, and the force knocked Ahmed against the wall. On the heels of the gusts, a man raced inside.

“Sarita!” The man removed his sodden cloak, tossing it on the chair before turning to Ahmed. “Where is she? Where is my wife? Is she well?”

Dropping his gaze to the rainwater pooling on the dirt floor, Ahmed choked out the dreadful words. “She—she is dead, Louis. And the child with her.”

“Dead?” The pain in Louis’s voice tore into him like talons. “No, she can’t be.”

I will not cry… “I-I’m sorry. The midwife did all she could. But the babe was too big. Sarita could take no more.”

“Our child,” Louis murmured. “Was it a son or a daughter?”

“The babe was a girl. She never took a breath. Now she sleeps in her mother’s arms for eternity.” Ahmed dared not look at Louis, couldn’t bear to see the agony his words inflicted. He’d made Sarita a promise—his very last service to his beloved princess. Despite the wrongness of it, he’d hold fast to his vow. “Your wife’s only thoughts were of you. She insisted you leave India before the Nizam learns of our tragedy.”

“I would see them first.” Louis strode toward the bedchamber. “I would say goodbye.”

Panic welled. Ahmed leaped to place his hands flat upon the man’s chest, halting any forward motion. “Sarita did not wish you to see her in death. As for the child, your loss will be easier to bear if you’ve never seen her. A faceless memory does not linger.”

As if voicing displeasure, the winds howled and rattled the door. Another stab of remorse pierced Ahmed’s heart. Why had Sarita heaped such a large burden upon him? How long could he keep his secret from Louis’s acute senses? In an effort at distraction, he reached for the sodden cloak still draped over the chair. Rainwater rolled off the garment and splashed onto his bare feet, the rhythm of tears.

I will not cry…

Pulling the grief-stricken man forward, he wrapped the cloak around him. “I’ve secured your passage onboard a merchantman, The Christman. She leaves on the morning tide for Batavia. From there, you must find your way home.”

“Home?” Louis’s dirt-streaked face clouded with grief. “I no longer have a home. Sarita was my home.”

Guilt sliced Ahmed in half. Before he broke and allowed the truth to escape, he led Louis out into the maelstrom. Hard rain pinged his cheeks as he helped Louis mount the saddled horse still standing in the midst of the deluge. “May Kismet smile upon you always, sir,” he shouted above the monsoon’s wind.

Slapping the beast on the rump, he sent horse and rider away. When their shadows disappeared in the dark and rain, he sloshed through ankle-deep mud to return to the house. Once the door closed on nature’s fury, he pressed his dripping head to the rough wood. The deed was done.

A mewling cry broke from the bedchamber. Ahmed hurried into the room, careful to avert his gaze from the lifeless body lying atop blood-soaked bedclothes. The cries grew louder when he lifted a swaddled bundle from a wooden cradle at the bedside.

He removed the blanket covering the child’s head and kissed the feathery hair. “Hush, my little princess,” he crooned, rubbing the infant’s back. “All will be well. Did I not promise your beautiful mother I’d take care of you? Uncle Ahmed is here. I’ll always be here. Don’t cry.”

Unbidden, the litany began again in his brain. I will not cry. I will not cry…

At last the babe quieted and snored against his neck. Only then did he allow the tears to slide down his cheeks. He cried until he was completely devoid of moisture as the storm clouds outside did the same.

He was twelve years old.