In my stories, people travel. A lot. The Realm of Silence is a road trip story, and so is Gingerbread Bride. In almost everything I’ve written, the characters need to get from one place to another by whatever means of transport was available. In the latest novella for the Bluestocking Belles, Paradise Regained, I’m just writing a camel train, a caravan. Did you know that the largest could have thousands of camels? Wow. House of Thorns meant researching the earliest steam ferries on the Mersey. For Never Kiss a Toad, which is early Victorian, my co-author and I have spent a lot of time calculating journey times on ships and trains. I’ve gifted the heroine of my latest contemporary novella, Beached, with a dual fuel (gas and electricity) car, and the hero has what New Zealanders call a utility vehicle, or ute.
So transport is this week’s theme. Comments with your excerpts are very welcome! Here’s mine, from Beached.
They went in Zee’s ute—his pickup he called it—leaving after breakfast. Nikki had offered her car, but Zee said he had some stuff to pick up for Dave, and needed the pickup’s bed.
Nikki decided not to call him on being a typical male, hating to be driven. Besides, she enjoyed watching his competent hands on the wheel and not driving meant she could enjoy the scenery—both inside and outside the car.
“We’ve gone as far as we can with the demolition,” Zee explained, as the truck skirted the foreshore. “I’ve got the crew tidying up today, and I’ve a few jobs lined up for next week that don’t need permits, but we’ll run out pretty quick. No problem if the council sticks to their ten-day timeline, but if anything is holding them up, I want to know about it ahead of time. If I let Dave take the team off your house and get involved in another job, who knows when we’ll get them back?”
“I thought you worked for Dave?” Nikki teased, prompting a broad smile and a sideways glance.
“Believe me, Nikki, I’m working for you on this one.” No misinterpreting that, although all week he’d been blowing hot and cold. She’d manufactured several opportunities for them to be alone, and any other man would have made a move by now. Showing an interest had always been enough and she’d done that, surely? Perhaps he was shy. Or she hadn’t been obvious enough.
They had the whole day together today; time enough for things to develop.
The road made its turn from the coast, running beside the estuary before turning to climb into the hills.
“Is this anything like where you grew up?” Nikki asked.
Zee laughed. “Not much! Me and my mom lived with her dad up on a mountain in Wyoming. They call it off the grid these days. To me, it was just the way you lived. Fishing in the lake for lunch. Hunting to put meat on the table. School was lessons with mom or grandpop, not just out of books but in our everyday lives. I learnt design hands-on, making things with grandpop.”
“It sounds idyllic,” Nikki commented.
“I remember it as idyllic. At least until…” He trailed off, his hands on the wheel clenching then releasing.
Congrats on “The Realm of Silence” (and also on the above excerpt, which I loved — how can you write contemporaries and historicals alongside each other?!)!
Not much travel so far in my novel WIP, partly because I’ve got so many other irons in the fire and only get round to it every so often; in fact, I think I only mention a carriage twice so far. The longest mention is in this scene, which I may or may not cut. If I don’t, it will be the opening lines. I’m afraid the carriage is very much incidental, and not even moving…
***
March 1806
The explosions began just as Lieutenant-Colonel Thomas Carey stepped down from the carriage at the gate of Woolwich Barracks. Several loud, deep, reverberating booms rattled the windows all along the enormous expanse of the great gravelled parade outside the classical façade of the building. Carey paused in the evening darkness, still gripping the carriage’s leather strap, and turned to see where the explosions were coming from. He was only a month returned from Germany; the memory of the cannonballs and carcasses hissing through the air on arcs of flame made him shudder, and he braced himself for the impact that never came.
His companion, Sir John MacLeod, noticed his unease. ‘The Warren,’ he said, simply, and Carey let out his breath. The Warren, of course, where the Royal Artillery tested out old cannons and new weapons and experimented with gunpowder charges; where explosions and cannon-fire were a daily occurrence. The Warren was, after all, less than a mile away. The explosions continued as Carey followed MacLeod inside, up a staircase and into the Royal Artillery officers’ mess.
Two beautifully written paragraphs, as always. I know about irons in fire! Indeed, I find it easier to write a contemporary alongside an historical. When I was writing House of Thorns and editing Realm of Silence, Gil kept bleeding into Bear. Hero overlap. (Not so much the heroines: Susan is very much her own person.)
Some rather excellent books coming out, no? Congrats on the release of Realm of Silence. It is a gem.
Thank you
Oh mine too! My characters travel. The Reluctant Wife has travel overland through Egypt, “the way with the camels” as the six year old daughter says. In The Unexpected Wife the characters not only travel to China, there is constant traffic around the Pearl River between Canton and Macao. In this passage, Charles and Zambak have been expelled from Canton at a time in which most of the European traders are held hostage in the city.
_____
They left Canton on Oliver’s river packet, Swan’s Journey, under cover of darkness, endured a few tense moments while a Chinese captain scanned their safe-passage documents with ill-conceived disdain, and sailed downriver away from the blockade. They employed no river pilot, but the American crew knew the route well.
Her brother grumbled at being kept from sleep and wandered below to seek a bed. The adventure of it zinged through Zambak’s veins; she hurried to the bow to watch their progress, Charles and the captain at her side.
“We aren’t out of the woods yet, my lady,” the captain murmured. With Lin’s explicit mention of “the Lady Zambak,” they had dropped all pretense of her disguise as the duke’s valet. Dressed as a Manchu lady, she gripped the rail with a white-knuckled ferocity that unmasked her studied calm for the lie it was and stared forward. She felt a warm hand cover one of hers, and her grip relaxed. Charles stood next to her looking determinedly out at the river. Neither moved to face the other.
“We still have to sail between the cannon from the Chinese forts where the river narrows, I believe. Jarratt called them ‘children’s peashooters.’ Was he right?” she asked.
“They aren’t up to Her Majesty’s ordnance, but no. I wouldn’t call them toys. Chinese cannon can do serious damage. Normally they ignore our passage, but these aren’t normal times. You might want to go below while we pass, my lady,” the captain said.
“Not on your life. I wouldn’t miss this.” And I damned well don’t want to be trapped below decks if we’re attacked.
The American looked troubled.
“I promise not to get in your way should there be trouble, Captain. I can handle myself,” she said, addressing his unspoken concerns. “And His Grace is more than able to manage both of us in a crisis,” she added as an afterthought, drawing a glower from Charles.
“I’ll leave you then,” the man said with a casual salute before returning to the quarterdeck, leaving the two of them alone at the bow.
So excited about the publication of this one.
Ha! More ordnance. Snap. 🙂
I do love the travel you put into your novels.
I particularly liked the ‘way of the camels’.