Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Robert McCammon and More

     Some authors inspire me. Robert McCammon is one of those authors. His novels are uniformly good. Some (Speaks The Nightbird, Swan Song, They Thirst, Usher's Passing) are great. And one in particular, Boys Life, could well be my favorite book of all time.
     I am currently reading his latest in the Matthew Corbett series, The River Of Souls, and, as usual, I am transfixed by the author's storytelling prowess. If you haven't read any of McCammon's books, start with Boy's Life. I guarantee you will move on to his others.
     The following may, or may not be, the prologue to my yet unwritten novella, Before The Night Falls.    

The red bride walked the deck of the St. Constantine, a ship named for her brother, and since her brother's death, she had preferred to walk its surface in silence and alone.
     She gazed up at the night sky, another ritual, and, much like the nights before, she saw the face of her brother outlined by the starlight. But now, on this night, another shape met her eyes, a blur at first until the stars accommodated her, shifting about until they formed an image of a woman's face, her features as sharp as the dagger at her waist.
     A thought, loud as a thunderclap, enveloped her. She is the one you seek. She is the one who will steal everything you ever wanted. Everything you will ever have.
     The red bride stared at the face, her brother forgotten, and a fire rose inside of her.  Everything I ever wanted. No, I don't think so.
     Then seek her out. Find her and destroy her before...
     "Before what?" She spoke the words out of impatience before she realized it wasn't necessary.
     Before she finds him.
    Now, the stars again moved and her brother's face shifted, morphing into another, one she did not recognize.
     Before she finds him, the words swirled like a swarm of insects in her mind.
     For the longest time, the red bride stared at the night sky, and when the first light of dawn broke upon the horizon, she lowered her head. The sea was still dark in front of her when she heard one last thing, the final words fading away into the darkness, into a whisper.
     Her name is Catherine and she seeks David. The man you once loved.
     The night broke apart like glass but by then the red bride had retreated to the safety of her cabin, where she remained awake listening the currents of the sea that would carry her home.


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