A Curious Statistical Anomaly

I recently published my first novel, Road Kill, a project which has been percolating in my head for over a decade although, technically speaking, it’s not my first novel, it’s just the first one I managed to complete. The larger universe in which Road Kill is set has been under development for over forty years and 99% has been created through sheer chaos.  A prequel and sequel could be available as early as next year, depending on how cooperative certain characters are.

Two primary characters, Meagan Robichaud and Hyperion, were the first components of my universe. Meagan is a woman that has the superpower of invisibility, but it only occurs when she’s scared. And, just to be contrary, knowing she’s invisible helps alleviate the fear.

Meagan’s situation established one of the plot components of the universe, useless superpowers that can, somehow, be forced into being useful. Numerous characters with these powers have come to life over the years, such as Jamie Sullivan, who has the power to cloud people’s minds and make them think she’s a coat tree. She got bored at a Christmas party once and ended up having to hold three coats, two hats, and an umbrella for a half-hour before she could escape.  She now works as a corporate spy, which pays enough to make the boredom worthwhile.  Jamie and most of the others have yet to make their way into any story, but they continue to bide their time.

Hyperion is a smart-ass, talking, European lynx. Nobody knows what secret government laboratory he comes from, or whether he escaped or was kicked out.  He’s annoyingly resistant to speaking about his past or how he came to be wandering on North Turner Mountain for Meagan to rescue. I like to think of Hyperion as the Batman of the stories. He has no powers, and only holds his own due to his intelligence and cleverness … and the fact that the humans put up with him beyond all reason. But then they’re fantasy stories. And he is kind of cute.

Into this setting, Road Kill was born when I had a dream. A lot of plot points come from dreams, but never whole-cloth because my dreams tend to be stupid. In this case, I dreamt I had the power to travel back in time to a point when an animal has been hit and killed by a car. I would then stop the assassination and return to the present. I’m guessing the dream came about because of the number of dead animals I see abandoned on the side of the road, and the several times I’ve seen drivers deliberately swerve, trying to hit one. At the conclusion of the dream, I was hauled up before the Time Cops because I saved a cat, which somehow resulted in the total annihilation of humanity. My defense of “The bastards had it coming” was not considered legally well-grounded. Once I woke up, Emily Charron got that power, minus the legal hassles.

Emily is a graduate student, closing in on her PhD, and so totally focused that she’s been ignoring everything and everyone else around her.  And once I had Emily, Chris Rodriguez popped into my head, cruising down a rainy road, volunteering to be the Watson to Emily’s Sherlock in a mystery revolving around a grand academic mystery that would, I hoped, somehow manage to include time travel, if only I could figure out how.  Chris is an IT security specialist, working to help law enforcement deal with cybercriminals while also trying to keep Emily’s life from imploding under the strain.

This brings up the final component of my plotting and writing style. Neither the plot nor the characters listen to me in the slightest. Chris transformed into Emily’s childhood friend and a romance began to bloom before the conclusion of the first chapter. Chris gained his own superpower, which inconveniently appeared while they were eating pizza. It took me entirely by surprise and I had to go back and sprinkle hints into previous chapters. And to solve the issue with the time-travel sub-thread, Emily popped back to save an animal just because, even though it was the worst possible time.

Once that happened, the rules of time travel quickly grew from a half-page of notes to several pages with timeline graphs and detailed breakdowns of all the permutations I could think of, one of which became the central premise for the sequel, The International Criminal Conspiracy.  But, more importantly, suddenly, the novel was no longer a mystery but instead an urban fantasy, geeky, romance, with a mystery sub-thread.

Worse of all, two-thirds of the way through Road Kill, Hyperion found a way to force himself into a novel he had no business being in. He just showed up in Chris’ living room, dragging poor Meagan along with him. This, in turn, dragged in Kristina Trantor, an individual with a questionable superpower who had been languishing, unused, on my dramatis personae since I had a dream back in the 80s.

The next thing I knew, a previously non-existent teenage daughter, Kaylee, apparated out of the ether and revealed herself to be Hyperion’s partner in sarcasm, forcing herself backward through time to a starring role in the long-suffering prequel, The Cat Who Came in from the Cold, replacing a lackluster neighbor that I never really liked anyway, plus shoehorning herself into the sequel as well.  I, merely the author, stood no chance.

So far, I’ve been posting snippets from Road Kill and I hope people are enjoying them and the novel as a whole.  But, this time I think I’ll provide a small sample of the prequel in which we are introduced to Meagan and Hyperion, and their characters are quickly established.

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The Cat Who Came in from the Cold

Chapter 1

Meagan Robichaud gratefully closed the large, circular, hobbit-styled outer mudroom door behind her, shutting out the rain and wind that still howled around her house and rattled the few outward-facing windows. An occasional crack of thunder made the walls rattle as well. She leaned her umbrella against the hall tree, making sure the tip was safely inside the rimmed rubber mat, and slowly unbuttoned her rain jacket with fingers still numbed by the icy rain.

It had been a long day down in Bangor, attending another boring business meeting that had come, once again, within a hair’s-breadth of convincing her to terminate her contract. Why they insisted on face-to-face meetings was a complete mystery to her. Why she insisted on dressing up for them was equally mysterious, but unfortunately could not be blamed on them, not that it stopped her from trying.

What had started as a worthy cause was fast devolving into a quagmire that only existed for the sake of existing, offering incompetent bureaucrats validation for their paychecks, and as a transparent ploy for staving off the inevitable audit for another month. Keeping the internet services running for the residents of the Sunshine Retirement Villages now seemed to have been totally dropped from the list of objectives, written or otherwise.

By trade, Meagan was an Information Technologies Security Consultant. It looked snazzy on a business card, but what it really entailed was hours in front of a computer screen, keeping people out of places they had no business being, and tracking them down for law enforcement’s attention when they occasionally managed to do it anyway. Fortunately, that could all be done from the peaceful sanctity of her lair, allowing her to totally avoid humanity except for groceries, doctor’s visits, and business meetings. The latter was what had forced her unwilling participation on a day that nobody should have been out on.

Today’s meeting, filled with face-saving and finger-pointing, had been called due to an automated report that somebody had inexplicably decided to read. Yes, there had been a minor breach. No, it has not been the fault of her security team. Yes, they had it under control. And no, it did not require several hours of pontification by people that couldn’t find the computer’s power button without an administrative assistant.

Kicking off her shoes, purchased for their professional look and certainly not their long-term comfort, she gave a sigh of relief and slipped into her clogs. The jacket and blouse would follow as soon as she could get upstairs, but at least her feet were now free from hours of torture.

From the kitchen came the thumps and bumps that signaled the approach of the cat. She smiled as she dropped her messenger bag on the hall tree’s bench and finally shrugged off her dripping coat. It was nice to be back home with those that actually liked her and didn’t just make a poor pretense out of social politeness. She hadn’t wanted to leave him for so long while he was recuperating, but at least her worry had been mitigated by being able to wrangle him a cat-sitter.

She hung the coat on an empty hook and turned to say hello when two heavy paws slammed into the wall on either side of her head. Instinctively she recoiled from the bewhiskered face that stared her eye to eye, causing the back of her head to bounce lightly off the wall.

“Welcome home dear,” the cat said. “Would you like a martini before dinner?” Without so much as a pause, the whiskers swept back in amusement. “What? No kiss?”

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When I was offered the opportunity to have Sharon Lathan write a guest blog – I did happy dance about the office. Then I began to think of what topic to ask her to write about. I tried to come up with something erudite and not something she’d answered a million times already. But, you know what? In the end, I simply asked the question that had been rolling around in the back of my mind. It’s the same one that I ask myself. Why do I feel drawn to this couple? Why do I read and reread Pride and Prejudice? So, I asked:

What got you started on writing follow-on stories for Elizabeth and Darcy from Pride and Prejudice? What drew you to these characters as opposed to say the sisters in Sense and Sensibilities or and of the couples in Austen’s other stories.

Hanging Out With The Darcys by Sharon Lathan

“Once upon a time..” is a phrase naturally associated with fairy tales and legends rather than real life happenings a mere five years ago, yet for me I already connect the phrase with how I began writing. Somehow the initial days and months feel like the stuff of myth rather than logical steps. Like the heroine on a written page my journey began simply when I walked into a movie theater to watch the 2005 cinema adaptation of Pride and Prejudice as directed by Joe Wright and starring Keira Knightley as Lizzy Bennet and Matthew Macfadyen as Mr. Darcy. The story was entirely new to me, I being largely a Jane Austen virgin at the time. Much like a literary heroine, emotions overtook me. Passion surged and curiosity raged! I was insatiable in my desire to learn more of Jane Austen, this story and these characters, the Regency Era, history in general, and so on.

Events snowballed and before I hardly knew what was happening I was writing a sequel. Wait, didn’t Mr. Darcy say something similar in regards to his love for Elizabeth? What was it again?

“I cannot fix on the hour or the spot or the look or the words which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.”

Yes, that sums it up well. Thank you Mr. Darcy! Just as our favorite hero was lost amid the throes of passionate love before he admitted it to himself, so was I. This story had captured my heart in a way no other story ever had. These characters were real, viscerally embedded within my soul, speaking inside my head. Rather frightening I suppose, but I wasted no time fretting over it. I simply sat down and started typing and researching and typing some more. It was heaven!

Later, especially after curious folks began asking me the questions of why and what, I tried to narrow it down. I am not sure if I have ever adequately explained why this story so mesmerized me. I am not sure if any artist can logically explain their creative inspiration. But I have tried to step aside – so to speak – and look at it objectively.

Everyone loves Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet! Sure the other characters who inhabit Austen’s wonderful novels are adored and appreciated, and some are even favored over Lizzy and Darcy, but there is little dispute that these lovers rank highest. Readers delight in Lizzy’s wit, spunk, personality, bravery, humanness, independence, etc. Readers swoon over the handsome, honorable, intelligent, misunderstood, and, yes, rich Mr. Darcy. For two centuries these two have provided joy to millions of readers, their love and infatuation similar to mine. Certainly in my case the visual of the movie spurred and enhanced my inspiration, but Colin Firth fans have experienced that for over a decade so nothing new in that regard!

I have often wondered if it also comes down to timing. Being in the right place at the right time in my life for the unrealized creative spark buried deep inside to be kindled. Honestly I do think that has something to do with it, but I also do not think the fire would have burst forth from any other story. At least it never had!

In truth I prefer to keep it a mystery. I know how this passion makes me feel and for once this clinically minded gal is content to ignore her obsessive need to figure out every puzzle. Maybe someday another Austen character or story will hit me in the same way. For the present I am fine with hanging out with the Darcys. They are quite hospitable!

Now, if you are up for a treat, here is an excerpt from The Trouble With Mr. Darcy. Enjoy!

“He is quite active at this moment.”

Her whispered words broke into the silence, momentarily halting the fingers trailing over her hipbone. Eagerly they altered their random path, purposefully brushing along her inner thigh until reaching the swell above. As she said, the baby was moving with gentle nudges against his palm.

“Hmm… Wonderful. You continually say ‘he’ as if sure of the sex. Another vivid dream as with Alexander?”

“No. Not this time. More of a feeling.”

“Ah, a feeling. So scientific.” He accented his tease with a tiny pinch.

“As scientific as my dream, but that proved true.”

“Very well then. I suppose that means we do not have to assign a female name, and since Alexander was instantly agreed upon, we have a task on our hands. Any choices? Do you wish to name him after your father?”

“Thomas? Perhaps, although we could reserve it as a secondary name after your father’s. James should be chosen before Thomas.”

“I do want to pay homage to my father if possible, yes. However, I do want to add Charles as a secondary name as well, if you do not mind? He is a dear friend and instrumental in my meeting you.” He gently drew her away from his chest, attempting to see her eyes in the dark, but to no avail so he kissed her instead, his fingertips flittering over her most sensitive zones while maintaining contact with their unborn child.

“How sweet,” she said once her mouth was released. “Charles is mutually agreed upon. So, we have numerous secondary name choices but nothing for the Christian name. Do you have a favorite?”

“I have always liked Nathaniel. And Adam. Not common, I know, but nice names.”

“Possible. What do you think of Gabriel? Lisle’s son is Gabriel and it struck me as pleasant.”

Suddenly Darcy chuckled. “Gabriel, Thomas, Nathaniel, Adam. I think we are cornering Biblical names!”

“Indeed,” she joined his laughter. “Of course, if we have this many babies you alluded to last night, we may work our way through the entire Bible. Just do not ask for Methuselah. I draw the line there.”

“Does that mean Shadrach and Meshach are eliminated? And no on Potiphar or Boaz?”

She shook with laughter and a fair dose of arousal now that his fingers had crept to the apex between her legs and were confounding her senses with their antics. “Absolutely not! I have no urge to torture our son with a hideous name. What say we remain in the realm of non-ridiculing names like Matthew or Daniel or Michael…”

“Michael,” Darcy interrupted, although Lizzy’s voice had paused on the name. Even his fingers had ceased moving, a fact Lizzy did not initially register as she too was dwelling on the name. “That has a nice ring. Michael. Michael Darcy. Michael Charles Darcy. What do you think?” He tried vainly to see her eyes, but the room was still too dark. He felt her gaze upon his face, the gap of inches separating allowing him to feel her exhaled breaths. Somehow he knew she was smiling.

“I love it. Yes, very much. It does not have to be definitively settled as yet, but… It fits for some inexplicable reason. Michael Darcy.”

“Michael Darcy. Yes. At least the choice for the present and much better than Methuselah. Shall we seal it with a kiss, Mrs. Darcy?”

About the Author: Sharon Lathan is the author of the bestselling novels Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy: Two Shall Become One, Loving Mr. Darcy: Journeys Beyond Pemberley, My Dearest Mr. Darcy and In The Arms of Mr. Darcy. Sharon also wrote a novella as part of an anthology with Amanda Grange and Carolyn Eberhart, A Darcy Christmas. In addition to her writing, she works as a Registered Nurse in a Neonatal ICU. She resides with her family in Hanford, California in the sunny San Joaquin Valley. For more information, please visit www.sharonlathan.net. Come to Austen Authors – www.austenauthors.com where Sharon and twenty other authors of Austen fiction blog together.

Sharon Lathan’s newest book:

The Trouble With Mr. Darcy by Sharon Lathan
Sourcebooks Landmark ISBN 1402237545

Even charmed lives will encounter troubles along the way….

After a time of happiness and strife, Darcy and Elizabeth gather with family and friends in Hertfordshire to celebrate the wedding of Kitty Bennet. Georgiana Darcy returns from a lengthy tour of the Continent with happy secrets to share, accompanied by the newlywed Colonel Fitzwilliam and Lady Simone, who may have secrets of their own. The stage is set for joy until the party is upset by the arrival of the long absent Mr. and Mrs. Wickham.

Wickham’s jealousy and resentment of Darcy has grown steadily throughout the years and Darcy rightly suspects that Wickham is up to no good. Darcy enlists the aid of Colonel Fitzwilliam to keep an eye on Wickham’s activity, but neither anticipate the extreme measures taken to exact his revenge. Nor do they fathom the layers of deception and persons involved in the scheme.

George Wickham returns to Hertfordshire bent on creating trouble, and Elizabeth and her son are thrown into danger. Knowing that Wickham has nothing left to lose, Darcy and Fitzwilliam rush to the rescue in a race against time. This lushly romantic story takes a turn for the swashbuckling when Mr. Darcy has to confront the villainous Wickham and his own demons at the same time… devoted as he is, what battles within will Mr. Darcy have to face?