I have a few things occupying my brain right now, which means trying to write a blog post didn’t work out. So, I’ll leave you with an excerpt instead.
This is an (unedited, could-still-be-changed) excerpt from my first Samhain release, Flight Risk, which will come out late this summer. I want to be like a mother and love all my books equally, but there’s something a little extra special about this book for me. And I got a little peek at my cover today, so it seems fitting.
Also, baseball is less than a month away, so I had to include a baseball joke. (Sorry Cubs fans).
“I’m sorry, Cal,” Trevor muttered, and his hand rested on her knee. “This must hit a little close to home.”
Callie shrugged. “Been a long time.” The memories would fade, some of the pain would too. Alcohol would help hurry the process along. The liquid scorched its way down her throat, the familiar heat curling in her stomach.
“It’s not about me today. It’s about Shelby. And you.” She covered his hand with hers, and then carefully removed it from her knee. She took another sip, a little longer this time.
“I don’t want to think about me,” he muttered, leaning into the back of the couch. “Tell me about AIF.”
From one depressing subject to another. Callie thought of the fly-in, the annual gathering of members of Antiques in Flight. AIF made the majority of its money for the year at the fly-in. Antique enthusiasts flew or drove out to the airport and spent five days camping, eating, enjoying each other’s planes, checking out the museum and library.
Last year, most people had attended to memorialize Gramps, but the donations had dropped significantly because there had been so many problems. This year, everything had to run smoothly. They were counting on those donations to make it through.
Callie opened her mouth to deflect the topic, but the truth tumbled out. “Em and I are holding on by a thread. If we don’t recover from last year’s disaster of a fly-in, we’ll lose it all.” She hadn’t meant to be bleak about it. Whenever she was around her half-sister, she did her best to maintain a positive attitude, but in her head the fly-in in six months would either make or break Antiques in Flight.
If Callie lost AIF along with everything else, she didn’t think she’d make it.
Callie took another deep drink, willing the liquor to kick in. “Let’s talk about something really stupid,” she suggested before Trevor started to try and comfort her. He was the kind of guy who would off comfort to someone else after his own mother’s funeral. She was the type of woman who brought booze and bad news.
“I think the Cubs have a chance to go all the way this year.”
“Yeah. Right, this is really going to be their year.” It was good to laugh. It had been a while since she’d had someone to laugh with.