#ThrowbackThursday--Smuggler's Bride

-

When Rand opened the cabin door he spied Julia up on the center of the table, skirt hiked up in her hand.

“Snake!” she whispered, pointing with her shaking free hand to a darkened corner of the cabin.

He dropped his bag and fetched the lamp and the broom. When he raised the lamp and peered into the corner, there was a faint susurrus—a sound like sand falling on the floor. Looking closer, he set down the lamp and broom and said, “C’mon outta there, fella.” He crouched down and waved his fingers in front of the snake, and when it coiled to leap he grabbed it behind its head. The snake wrapped itself around his arm, but Rand didn’t let go of the snake’s head.

He straightened and turned to Julia, the snake clinging to his arm, tongue darting in and out in agitation.

“This ain’t nothin’ but a corn snake, darlin’. He’s likely more scared of you than you are of him.” He held the snake up, admiring the red, gold, and brown stripes and chevrons patterning the reptile’s body as the snake squirmed in his grasp. “This is a frisky one, too. Bet he could help with those rats in the corn field. C’mon, fella, let’s put you to work out back.”

When he returned from releasing the snake into a friendlier environment, Julia was still sitting up on the table, cross-legged, staring out the window. Her hair had come undone and was falling down her neck and back in ringlets that clung to her skin, and large circles darkened her blouse under the arms.

“What are you doin’ up there?”

“I hate this place. I hate Florida. I hate living where giant beetles fly into your hair and where snakes come into the house. I hate breathing in wet gnats and I hate the mosquitoes and I hate the damp that keeps my clothes sticking to me. I hate that it is autumn and it is still hot enough to raise bread. And I hate you for keeping me here,” she finished conversationally.

--SMUGGLER'S BRIDE 


For #ThrowbackThursday I've been thinking about my neighbors in North Central Florida, particularly the ones that slither, fly or crawl into our lives. This picture is of a recent visitor, a small ring-neck snake who entered my screen porch and was looking mighty comfortable until I took a broom and swept him out the door. 

When I was writing Smuggler's Bride in the early part of the 21st c. I had a lot of real-life examples I could draw from for my Florida critters. I even gave my son's pet snake Frisky, a native Florida cornsnake, a cameo appearance. He was quite cooperative and only expected to be paid in mice (the snake, not the son.)

My WIP is another smuggling tale set in North Florida, [working title] The Smuggler's Amnesiac Husband, and no snakes were harmed in the crafting of this novel. After all, they're a valuable part of our ecosystem, doing their part to keep the rodents in check.




 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Do you have permission to waltz?

-
Image
"Would you care to dance as well?” Light-footed Captain St. Armand was standing behind Daphne, smiling down at her, but before she could answer Alexander said, “Mrs. Murray was about to favor me with a dance, Captain St. Armand.” “I was?” “Indeed you were,” Alexander said, helping Daphne to her feet. She cocked her head to the side, listening to the music. “That music is in waltz time, Dr. Murray. Do you know the waltz? It is my favorite!” “Then it will be my favorite also.” Daphne looked up at him as he took her into his arms, a quizzical grin on her face. “What a charming thing to say, Dr. Murray! I vow, you are becoming quite the gallant.” Alexander said nothing to this, concentrating on the music. Yes, he'd waltzed when ashore. On occasion he'd been invited to balls and assemblies, even a surgeon being a useful man to have when the navy was expected to provide gentlemen at entertainments. But he'd never felt the music, the dance had never mattered so mu...
Read more
-
Image
HOW I SPENT MY SUMMER VACATION Worldcon (Denvention3) was fantastic. I arrived Wednesday in plenty of time for my 4:00 panel, Survival Tips for New Writers. The other panelists were David Coe and this year's Campbell Award winner, Mary Robinette Kowal, and along with the audience I picked up tips from them on how to improve my work habits. On Thursday I had a full day of panels. How do Ebooks Change Writing--an Ebook Writing Primer was intriguing, and moderator Dave Howell worked hard to keep us focused on the topic and not wandering off into weird ebook stories. We talked about interactive ebooks with hyperlinks, but also about how many readers seem content with ebooks simply being an exact copy of a print book delivered through different media. Aaaargh! The Pirate Panel was just what you might expect from the title, an exploration of why we like pirates so much, and where pirate history and mythology collide. The other panelists--David Riley, MistyMassey and Linda Donoh...
Read more
-
Book Reviews--Dearly Devoted Dexter Dearly Devoted Dexter Jeff Lindsay 2005, Doubleday Dexter Morgan, the serial killer who only takes out the trash, is back in a novel that picks up where Darkly Dreaming Dexter ended. In that first novel we learned how Dexter’s foster father saw early what the boy was and channeled his social quirks into a more acceptable outlet. Oh, Dexter still likes to torture people to death–that will never change–but thanks to his cop dad Dexter has a mission–to only use his talents on really, really bad people. Specifically, other serial killers. Dexter works for the Miami PD as a blood spatter specialist and he cheerfully goes through his life, as he puts it, pretending to be human and letting his dark friend come out to play every now and then. Dexter’s sister is a Miami cop and while she has a pretty good idea what he’s up to, she leaves him alone to do his thing. The problem is, Dexter’s doing a little too good a job of passing for human. So much so that t...
Read more