Hey, so, there’s another book of mine coming out. It’s a sequel to A Place I Have Never Been, and like it’s predecessor will be released in parts. Tentative release date for part one is December, but that could change of a variety of factors! It’s always a little thrilling talking about and sharing writing, especially the self-published, just for fun kind. It’s kind of like putting videos of yourself singing and dancing on YouTube. I’m having fun, it’s something relaxing to do, and a great creative outlet as the world continues turning (sometimes burning).
I want to give a great shoutout to the alpha and beta readers who’ve helped the story come along. All your notes have been super helpful in getting the story to a place where I’m happy with it. The section I’m sharing below was one of the most popular of the whole book, and honestly one of the pieces of writing I’m most happy with (maybe ever?). I’m excited to share it and hope it will help y’all get excited about…
And, it goes without saying, there are still some notes and edits to be made so what’s below may change slightly. Enjoy!
ANOTHER TIME
Part I: The State in the North
…
The PZT Rising Sun blared its horn over the mouth of the Peaks River, announcing its arrival from the smoldering remains of Fangbay Port. The Telgoran naval jack, a mashup of the white, grinning hood sigil and an anchor on a dark blue background, fluttered in the warm breeze. Droplets of spray flashed up from the bow. Tiny, salty flecks settled in the hair and on the clothes of weary, seasick passengers as they crowded the decks to get their first look at the city sitting at the end of the Sun and Moon Mountains. Among their number was a woman in a scarlet dress uniform clinging to the cool metal railing with one hand and a peaked PKT pilot’s cap with the other. She’d removed it to let her short, wavy brown hair fly free in the wind and spray from the sea. Her wide, peridot eyes glistened with anticipation as the ship turned the last bend of the bay. Twinpeaks emerged before her, spreading out from the Peaks River in a narrow, orderly grid. Somewhere, in that mass of stone, brick, steel, and glass, her family waited for her. For the first time in over three years, Fezharek felt like she was going home.
Crowds of cheering civilians roared from windows overlooking Twinpeaks’ port. Telgoran banners rippled from open windows, rooftops, and the hands of families and spectators. A band from the South Great Plains State Militia played the Telgoran National Anthem, barely audible over the crowd. Celebratory cannons fired into the sea, saluting the arriving ship.
Fezharek tensed at their rapport. It sounded too much like artillery for her liking. She tried instead to focus on the confetti falling like snow around her. It settled on the ship’s decks and city streets, painting the entire scene the Telgoran national colors: red, black, gold, and white. She smiled to herself, reached for her bags, and made her way to one of the gangplanks as the ship pulled into port.
She fought her way down with the rest of the soldiers, sailors, and pilots into a crowd bustling with the energy of a thousand lonely hearts and souls hunting for their missing pieces. Posters and signs bearing the names of hundreds of individuals bobbed above turning, searching heads. Couples ran and embraced each other. Tears of joy and sadness streaked down the faces of men, women, and children.
But Fezharek couldn’t help but notice, as she was pushed this way and that through the chaos, that not everybody was entranced by the joy of reunion. Solemn faces fixed mile-long stares at the flag-covered coffins being carried from the ship behind her. Partners, now forever lonely, wandered towards the broken pieces of their former lives. They rested their hands, their heads, or sometimes their entire bodies on the coffins when they found them. Children gazed up into their parents’ eyes, wondering in rapt silence why they too could not join the celebrations. The noise and the crowds and the joy and the sadness rushed through Fezharek.
She stopped, feeling her chest tighten as she wondered about the bullets that missed her, and the ones she’d fired. The man she’d shot. The lives she’d ended. The thought of being one of those in the coffins herself, immune to the spectacle of a hero’s welcome in Telgora.
Then an arm wrapped around her waist.
Fezharek turned from the menagerie of the found and lost to meet the steady gaze of a pair of warm, brown eyes as familiar as her own above a smile as dimpled as she remembered. The face she looked into shone with as much disbelief and love as she felt in looking at it. Kana’s grin widened as bliss overtook both. He pulled her into an embrace so tight she feared, and hoped, that he would never let her leave again.
DECEMBER 2021
