Isabelle Flynn's Blog

She’s Going Home Excerpt and Links

I am so, so happy to announce that She’s Going Home is now available for purchase as an ebook. Angie and Nick’s story started with a dream, like most of my books. From the start both characters came to life and their voices were always there in my head.  It was impossible not to write their story. Please enjoy a short excerpt below.

 

In jeans and a blue polo shirt, he still held himself like the police officer he was. The look in his eyes had her placing a hand on her stomach. He really hadn’t noticed on that first day in town. She had wondered for days when they would see each other again. Pretending that she would be unaffected by him hadn’t worked. He made every part of her body tingle.

“You’re pregnant.”

She couldn’t have stopped the glib response if she wanted to. “That’s what they tell me.”

Before he could say anything else, she lifted the pile of hardbound books off the desk and headed towards the reference section.

It only took her a few steps before she realized her mistake. At just a few inches over five feet, she was no match for the heavy books. Nick was just a step behind her when the top book started to list. With quick reflexes, he straightened the pile and had them in his arms before she could gasp.

“What do you think you’re doing? Where is the little cart to push the books around?”

The volume of his voice propelled her forward into the stacks. “Shh. Keep your voice down.”

“You shouldn’t be lifting anything this heavy.”

“I’m fine. This is my job. Librarians carry books.”

Grabbing each book and slipping them back into their place while he followed her, she waited until she was ready before looking back. “You have been around pregnant women before, haven’t you?”

He shrugged. “Of course. A little too much. I had to deliver a few babies when I was an EMT in Providence. That’s why I would prefer you not do any heavy lifting. I’m sure your husband wouldn’t want you to either.”

She opened her mouth to clear up the lie, but the words stuck in her mouth. She didn’t need pity. Least of all from him.

“You’re overreacting. It’s just a pile of books.”

Glancing back at the front desk, she spotted a young boy waiting for her. She stepped around Nick and walked back to the main foyer. The boy looked familiar with his light brown hair and serious brown eyes. She ignored Nick when he called her name and continued on to the desk.

She grabbed the two books the boy placed in front of her, “Can I have your library card?”

He stuck his hands into his front pockets and then the back. There was something about the way one lock of hair fell in front of his eyes that again reminded her of someone. He pulled his hands out and blew out a breath, ruffling his bangs. “One sec.”

He walked away, just out of view but she could hear his voice whisper, “Dad, do you have my library card? I think I forgot it.”

She didn’t need to hear the reply to know who he was speaking to. The pieces all fit together. Nick’s son.

He returned without the card. “I forgot it again. The other librarian usually looks it up. Is that okay?”

His father came up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Angie avoided looking at Nick. She needed to know how old his son was.

Her heart pounded as she tried to keep her voice calm. “Sure.” He was old enough to read and judging by the books in his hands, old enough to read the type of science fiction she read when she was twelve or thirteen.

“My name is Jack Forest.”

She entered in his name and then waited as the screen popped up. She couldn’t will her eyes to look away from the date of birth. It was there on the monitor. No need to even do the math. She knew without a doubt, this boy was born while she was dating his father. She finished up the transaction and handed Jack his books. She couldn’t bear to look at Nick. How could something that happened so many years ago still hurt? With tears burning the back of her eyes, she walked out from behind the desk.

When Nick called her name, she kept on walking. Not stopping until she reached the ladies room, Angie felt nausea rise up into her chest. All of those years wondering why he had just dropped her and this had never occurred to her. A baby.

Available for purchase as an ebook at

Amazon
Barnes & Noble

Google Play
Samhain Publishing
Kobo
 

 

That’s Fishing

I’m a huge fan of the Deadliest Catch. HUGE! I’ve seen every season, watched many episodes in reruns. I love everything about the show. I have my favorites (RIP Captain Phil), the men I cheer a little harder for but, in the end, it’s one of those shows where there are no bad guys. I want all of the men to go home safe and whole to their families. I want them to be able to support their children.

The job is hard, maybe even impossible for 99.9% of people. It’s difficult finding the right spots to drop the pots, then there’s the complication of dropping these heavy, metal boxes into the ocean and then pulling them back out. It’s a compelling show because, despite the obstacles, you know they’re going to fish. When it’s snowing and the ice is building up on deck, they fish. When it’s raining, the waves are taller than most people’s houses, they fish. They show up in hurricanes. They show up in blizzards. THEY SHOW UP.

Now I’m not saying writing is as harrowing as crab fishing. I’m warm and toasty in my home in the winter and cool and comfortable in the summer. I have a roof over my head, no worries about snow or rain, no fighting 3-story waves or icy decks.

But there is always a storm brewing in my head. I traverse the peaks and valleys of my moods. The highs of positive feedback and the lows of rejection. I fight self-doubt, resistance, and lack of confidence.

Just like crab fishing, there’s only one way to keep going. SHOW UP!

Too many times, when things aren’t going well, we, writers, look around. We wonder what we did wrong, what the other guy did right to get where they are. In the end, it’s like Jake Andersen, deckhand on the Northwestern said last season when things weren’t going well…(Paraphrased)…”What did we do to deserve this? Or maybe that’s just fishing.”

So maybe “That’s just writing!” The rejection, the moods, the feedback that hits right and the feedback that hits all wrong. It’s us or, at least me, putting some grand meaning on something that really doesn’t have that much of an effect on whether we’re reaching our goals or making any progress.

So what do you think?

 

What I Love about New England: After the storm

You might have heard about the recent storm that hit us here in the Northeast. Nemo was predicted to make quite a hit on New England but no one had any idea how hard it would hit the south coast region of MA. By Friday night, my house was without power and slowly losing heat. Saturday was spent keeping my kids warm and shoveling out our icy, snowy driveway. We woke on Sunday to 41 degrees and the knowledge that we had to beat tracks out of there. After an hour of picking the ice off our Jeep, we made our way to RI and my parents' warm house.

I took this picture on Tuesday, a day after emptying my fridge and freezer, clearing a way to our shed, calling the electric company to pull a huge limb off of our power lines, and finally thawing out. A sunrise after one of the worst storms I've ever weathered.

 

What I love about New England: Marinas

With a blizzard predicted to hit in the next few days, I thought I’d pull out one of my pics from last summer. There’s just something about the shoreline that brings me back to…well…me. The salt air, the soothing rhythm of waves, swooping sea gulls and bonging buoys.