The Nectar Trilogy

Since I am entering a PhD program next week, it is highly unlikely that Amo will get polished and published in the next four years. It is written, however, and sitting, lonely and unread on my hard drive as a .pdf document. If you would like to read the entire manuscript, simply email me at steve@stevethomason.com and I’ll send it to you. No charge. No strings attached. How’s that for a deal?

I finished my first edit of Amo today. I sent it off to my three editor angels. These are three women who are graciously willing to read and critique it for me. After they get done with it and I mull it over one more time, I’ll send it off to the editor-for-hire and get the final spit and polish on the manuscript. Hopefully we can get this all done by mid summer.

The phone crackled. Silence.

“Lane, did you hear what I said?”

“Yes, Josh, I heard you. I’m just not sure what to say.”

Lane rolled over and looked at the alarm clock on his night stand. 5:57am. The phone call stole his last moments of precious sleep. He rolled back and sandwiched his head between the phone and his pillow.

“Josh, do you know what time it is?”

“I know, I’m sorry, but I was really scared. I just needed to hear your voice.”

Lane softened at the sound of his little brother’s desperation. Three and a half months. This was the longest they’d ever been apart.

Pity won out over the need for sleep and Lane propped himself up on his pillow. “OK, Josh. Tell me again. What did you see in your dream?”

“It was weird, Lane,” Josh said, “this one was the most real so far.

“At first everything was fuzzy, like a million specks of dust swirling in the air. The cloud of sparkles moved in and out until they formed her body.

“She floated. I couldn’t tell if she was a ghost, or was under the water. It was like she was in slow motion, or something.

“Then she jerked. First to the left, then to the right. I think something hurt her. Then pain shot through my body. I didn’t know what was happening to me.

“She reached out to me and got super close to my face.  It was hot, and it buzzed a little, and sent prickly tingles all over my face, into my hair, and then down my back. I froze.

“’Josh, I need you.’ she said.

“That’s the part that really freaked me out. I heard her voice. She looked right into my eyes and spoke to me.  I tried to talk back, but my throat was really dry and nothing came out. I tried to reach out my hands, but they were glued to the mattress.

“Suddenly she turned her head and looked back over her shoulder. The hair separated and I saw the back of her neck. She had five dots, like moles or freckles, that formed the shaped of the letter J. It was really clear against that white skin.

“She turned back around and her eyes were wild. I think she was afraid. She reached out to me again. Then her body shrank. Without moving her legs she moved away from me. Further and further, and then… she was gone.”

The air crackled through the phone.

“Lane, are you there?”

“Yeah, I’m here, Josh.

Bright blue numbers on the alarm clock traced the contours of his bedspread with a cold edge. He sat up straight and flopped his pillow into his lap.

“Listen, little man, it was just a dream. I’m going to be there tonight. After I’m done with my exams I’m going to hop on a plane and, before you know it, I’ll be home.

Now, I’ve got to get going so I don’t miss my first exam. Try to get some sleep before you have to get out of bed.”

“OK. I can’t wait to see you tonight.”

“Me neither. Now go to sleep.”

Lane pushed “end” on the phone and leaned back against the headboard. The dark December morning clung to the windows with and icy grip.

How could Josh have known about the J? I never told him that. I wonder if Dad did.

The snooze buzzer squawked from the nightstand. “Time waits for no man, not even the brilliant” Lane mimicked his professor’s voice. Dr. Clark is a great man, but why does he have to schedule classes so early?

* * *

The New England air was damp and cold against his skin. Patches of ice formed a precarious obstacle course along the sidewalk. It would be easier to walk along the snow-packed gutters of the street, but the cars were too tightly packed along the edge.

In a couple of hours this street would clamber with honking horns, angry drivers, and all too frequent sirens. But now, it was still. The street lights cast an amber tint to the otherwise blue black darkness of a winter morning.

Lane stood for a moment and took it in. He still couldn’t believe it. MIT. Massachusetts Institute of Technology.Just a year ago he had taken the test to qualify for this program. Now, here he was, one of the few students who had the privilege tospend their senior year of high school as a “pre-freshman” at one of the greatest Technical Institutes in the world. He had survived the first semester and was about to spend his last day on campus before Christmas Break.

A passing car honked its horn and startled him, jump-starting his cross-campus trek.

The coffee shop sat on the edge of campus.Everyone knew that the life blood of the serious college student is dark caffeinated liquid.

Hot coffee in hand, he wove his way through the labyrinth of buildings until he came to the Physics department. Half way down the dark hallway a slice of yellow light marked the only room withlife at this hour. He pushed open the door to reveal a room half full of red-eyed, sleep deprived students.

The metal handle squeaked.

“Mr. Gray!”

The voice came from the front of the lecture hall.  Lane looked just in time to see the gnarled hands raise a stack of blue books into the air, then slam then down on the desk. The loud slap pulsed through the room in a sonic ripple of bobbing heads.

Lane’s heart stopped. He was caught in the professor’s stare. Piercing gray eyes peered out from underneath two very bushy, furrowed, eyebrows. Silence gripped the room. Some of the co-eds nervously snuck a sympathetic glance at Lane.

“You sir.” The hunched professor paused and leaned into his next statement with the gravity of an undertaker.  “Are right on time.”

A thin-lipped smile widened across the professor’s face and the icy gray eyes twinkled with mischief. The air reentered the room as everyone let out a sigh of relief.

“Please take your seat, sir,” the professor continued.

Lane shook his head and skipped down the stairs to the front row of the lecture hall. Dr. Clark has such a strange sense of humor.

The old professor passed out the exam packets. He placed one in front of Lane and mouthed the words, “Good luck, son,” then gave him a reassuring wink.

The next two hours were filled with the sound of pencils frantically scribbling across paper, punctuated by the agonizing groans of students desperately trying to recall a formula. Lane flew through the test. He loved it.  He loved everything about this experience.

At least everything inside the classroom. This was his safe haven. Here he was king. Once he left the classroom and entered the larger world of the campus and college social life, things were very different. Who knew that even the world’s smartest people and a campus with the highest concentration of math geeks could still be full of cruel people.

Lane finished the test and brought it forward to place on Dr. Clark’s desk. Wise, wrinkled eyes looked up at Lane. They motioned to the door and called Lane to step out into the hallway.

It was light in the hall now. The rest of the building had woken up while they were taking the test.

Dr. Clark placed his hand on Lane’s shoulder.

“Is everything set, Lane? Do you have a way to the airport?”

“Yes, Dr. C. Dad sent some money. I’m going to take the T. I’ll be fine.”

“Good. When you get back to the house, I left a little gift for you. It’s hanging on the door handle to your room.  Take it with you, but don’t open it until Christmas.”

He smiled and his eyes nearly disappeared under the folds of skin. Lane nodded his head.

Dr. Clark looked over his shoulder and then down the other direction in the hallway. No one was around. He leaned in closer to Lane and whispered, “Don’t worry about the lab. Your secret is safe with me. I’ll work on it over the break, but I promise I won’t do anything important until you get back.”

He looked into Lane’s eyes, gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze and a quick pat, and then motioned with his hand.

“Alright then, no long goodbyes. Off you go. Have a good break.”

He turned and disappeared into the classroom before Lane could speak.

“Right. You have a good break too,” Lane said to the door that closed in front of him.

Lane moved to the door at the end of the hallway. The campus grounds had changed dramatically over the few hours he was in the exam. Now it was full of people walking quickly across the plaza through the criss-cross of paths cut through the snow. Puffs of crystal clouds around their heads marked their breathing. The sluggish winter sun was just above the edge of the bay. It washed the buildings in golden hues and threw long, icy, purple shadows across the grounds.

Lane retraced his steps across the campus. The intersection was now busy with morning traffic. Cars honked, taxis wove masterfully in and out of traffic.  Steam rose from all the exhaust pipes and froze in crystalline pillars. Bundled business men and women hurried along the sidewalks, cradling coffee cups in their hands.

The walk signal turned white and Lane flowed with the crowd across the street. Cold air propelled him quickly down the three blocks to the brownstone.

He stopped in front of the familiar building for a moment. Its dark brick façade stood like a fortress. His sanctuary. Dr. Clark’s home.  Dorm life had not gone well for Lane. Had Dr. Clark not intervened, who knows what would have happened. Had he not told the professor about his secret, he would have never had this place. It was worth it.

Up the front stairs and into the old house. His train would leave soon, so he had to hurry. He touched the covered bike on the front porch. “Soon, old friend. Soon”

His bedroom was at the top of he narrow wooden stairs, was at the end of the small hallway. A bag hung from the door handle with a note attached.

Lane,

This is a little gift for you. Don’t open until Christmas.

There is a sack full of food for your trip. It is  on the kitchen table. Be safe.

Dr. C.

Lane shook his head and smiled. It was highly unusual for a professor to take in a student as a boarder. He wasn’t even sure if it was legal, but Dr. Clark had a lot of clout in the school and must have pulled a few strings.  It definitely didn’t help with Lane’s social standing among the other students. It was the ultimate teacher’s pet syndrome. He didn’t care. It’s not like he had been fitting in that well before Dr. Clark took him in. This was definitely a better situation.

He threw his things into a duffle bag and slung it over his shoulder. Down the stairs and to the kitchen. The sack of snacks sat on the table. Lane smiled and added it to his duffle.

The wall clock read 9:45. He had to get moving if he was going to catch the T.

The door on the other side of the kitchen stood slightly open. A crack of darkness caught his eye. It whispered, “please.” He looked at the clock, then back at the door.

Super quick. Just a look. I can make it.

The door creaked open. The stairs were even louder. There must not have been building codes for basements when this house was built. He felt like the steps would collapse every time he went down them, but that never stopped him.

At the bottom of the stairs blue light pulsed against the rough stone wall. Electronic buzzing and beeps filled the dank, musty air. He loved it.

There it was. The very center of his life for the past three months. The lab.

It was really nothing more than a mass of electronic equipment piled in a musty, cramped basement with low rafter ceilings, moist stone walls, and a dirt floor. A small table sat on one side of the room with two desk chairs nestled underneath it. Other than that, there was not much order to the chaos. They had spent the last two months just acquiring the necessary equipment.

Lane stared at it. A thing of beauty. Someday it would all come together.

A beep came from the kitchen at the top of the stairs.  The sound startled Lane.

He flew up the rickety staircase in three steps, grabbed his duffle bag, and raced to the front door. The icy patches on the sidewalk were a hazard, but he still managed to run the full eight blocks to Kendall Station.  He had filled his pass yesterday, so it was a quick slide through the gate and he was on the platform just as the train pulled up.

An hour later he was at Logan airport and flowing with the increasing crowd of holiday travelers. The gate was easy enough to find. People crowded around number 14, waiting impatiently for the gate attendant to let them in. A crackly voice came over the loudspeaker.

A small knot formed in Lane’s stomach. The long line of people slowly moved past the flight attendant. She scanned each passenger’s pass and smiled. Lanes’s hand shook as he handed over his pass. She looked at him and smiled.  “Enjoy your flight.” He tried to respond, but no words came through his tightened throat. He smiled weakly and nodded.  The line moved through a door into a long tunnel. With each step down the walkway, the air grew colder.

He was freezing. Another flight attendant stood in the long oval doorway of the plane and greeted each person as they entered. Her face reflected Lane’s condition.

“Sir, is this your first time flying?”

He tried to speak, but still nothing came out. He nodded and feigned a smile.

The attendant relaxed a little and muffled a chuckle.

“Don’t worry,” she said, then placed her hand on his shoulder and gently led him into the long metal tube of death. “Everything will be just fine. You’re in good hands.”

We’ll see.

Hundreds of eyes stared at him. The long line of people in front of him painfully inched down the narrow isle as each person had to stop and stuff their bag in the overhead compartment.

Row 17, row 18, row 19. 19B. That was his seat. His two row mates were already seated. Next to the window a young woman clutched a bundle of blankets on her lap. The isle seat overflowed with humanity . A large, sweaty man greeted Lane with an apologetic smile. His excess flesh hung generously into Lane’s seat.

Great.

Lane hoisted his duffle above his head and barely squeezed it into the remaining space in the bin. The large man leaned hard into the isle and lifted one leg to allow room for Lane to slide into his space in the middle. Lane sat down and looked at the woman next to him. The bundle she clutched to her chest moved. It had flesh and squawked.

Oh this is wonderful. Of course, on my first flight I’m stuck in a bad joke.

Lane forced a polite smile at the woman and nodded to the infant with as much false admiration as he could muster. Then he glanced at the large rolls of man piled in the seat to his left. They made brief eye contact, a quick head nod, then both retreated into isolated forward stares.

The final passengers found their seats and the plane lurched backwards. Lane’s stomach flipped. He gripped the armrests. You can do this, man. You’ve been through far worse. Millions of people do this every day. Pull it together.

An overly enthusiastic woman stood in the isle and gave implicit instructions on what to do in case of an accident.  Loss of cabin pressure? Really? Lane frantically looked at the roof above his seat and wondered if he would lose consciousness before the oxygen mask reached him. He studied the schematic of the airplane that was in the seat pocket in front of him as if it were a sacred text that held the key to his eternal destiny.

The plane taxied to the end of the runway and lined up for take-off. There was a moment of peace, and then a loud whining sound filled the cabin. The entire craft shook. Ground and buildings moved past the small window. Slowly at first, then they blurred against the glass. Lane’s body pressed into the back of the seat. Then it happened. All of the soft tissue in his body shifted down three inches. They had left mother earth and were now suspended in mid air in… a metal tube.

How did I let this happen? He pressed his head into the back of the chair and squeezed his eyes shut. For the next several moments he waited. And waited. The pitch of the whining sound increased. It was obviously heading toward a climactic explosion. Wait for it. Time hung suspended.

Bing.

A soothing voice filled the cabin. “The captain has informed us that we have reached our cruising altitude and it is now safe to walk around the cabin.”

Really? That was it?

Lane looked outside the window. White. Nothing else.  No sign of movement. The whining pitch was gone. For all he could tell they were sitting perfectly still on the ground.  He craned his neck above the seats and scanned the crowd.  Most people had already nodded off. Some read books or magazines. Most looked totally bored.

“Mr. Rolls” had nestled into his own neck and was lightly snoring. Baby and mother were snuggled up against the wall, fast asleep.

Huh. I guess this isn’t too bad.

Color returned to his knuckles as he released the armrests. No indents in the plastic. That was good.

The hard knots in his neck softened and Lane eased back into the seat. I might make it home after all.

With the tension of first take-off past him, Lane’s stomach relaxed and formulated a new form of pain. Hunger.  Dr. Clark’s bag. It was in his duffle bag, which was on the other side of the pile of man next to him. He calculated the level of his hunger versus the size of his obstacle.  Hunger won.

“Excuse me.” He tapped the man on the arm. A sharp snort blew from the man’s throat and he woke in confusion.

“I’m sorry, but I need to get my bag from up there.”

The man twisted and pulled heaps of flesh, still leaving only a small gap for Lane to squeeze through. Lid open. Zip. Grab. Squeeze. Grunts and snorts from the obstructive man. Back in the seat.

Now, to open the bag. Was it worth the effort? Lane peeked inside to see. There was a small note:

Lane,

I thought you might need these for your first take-off.  Bon Voyage!

Dr. C.

Chocolate cookies. The perfect comfort food. Dr. Clark is a good man.

With two cookies soothing his insides, Lane relaxed into the seat and thought of the coming weeks.

Home.

He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and felt for the papers. Do I dare read this again? He pulled out three pieces of pink paper and unfolded them. Perfect handwriting danced across the page in purple looping rhythm.

He took a deep breath and began to read.

September 17th

My Dearest Lane[SPT1] ,

It has been two weeks since you left for school.  I knew I would miss you when you left, but I didn’t realize how big of a hole it would leave in all of our lives.  Josh really misses you, too.  Your Dad talks about you all the time.  He’s so proud of you, really.

There is so much that I have wanted to say to you over the past year.  I know I came on really strong at the beginning. You made that very clear.  Please forgive me.  I’ve been content to just sit back and be your friend.  I know you really needed that more than anything, and I was happy to be that for you.

I was so happy to help your Dad over the summer and watch Josh for him.  You Gray boys have truly made me feel like part of your family.

I’m still amazed when I think about how all of this started.  I was so proud of you that day.  You were taking the entrance exam to the early enrollment at MIT.  I told you that you were my hero that morning, remember?  Well, was I wrong?  Now you’re there, Mr. Smarty Pants. J

I waited for you to come home from the test that afternoon.  I sat by my front window and watched for you to ride your bike around the corner.  I thought I’d be able to tell by the look on your face if you did well on the test.

You came around the corner so fast.  There was panic in your eyes, like something terrible had happened.  I froze.  I didn’t know what to do, so I just watched.

You skidded your bike in front of your house and then jumped to the front door and nearly ripped it off when you opened it.  You bolted in and then I heard shouting and crashing.  I was really afraid.  I actually picked up the phone to call 911.

But then it got really quiet.  Two minutes later I saw something that changed my life forever.  You just appeared on the sidewalk, right out of thin air.  And you looked different.  You had on different clothes and a rope tied around your waist.  You ran inside, again, and the rope kept extending out of nothing.

Then a creature appeared on the sidewalk, on the other end of the rope.  It was the scariest thing I had ever seen.  All gnarled and scarred, like it had been burned.  And it was so massive, like one of those disgusting body builders on the magazines.

Your Dad appeared in the doorway and fell to his knees.  The creature vaporized and shot into your Dad and threw him back into the house.

It was quiet again.  A few minutes later you came out to the front and walked around the yard.  You were looking for something, but you didn’t find it.  You went back inside.

That was the last thing I saw or heard.

What was I supposed to do then?  I definitely couldn’t call 911.  “Uh, yeah, a giant creature just materialized out of thin air, and then, uh, dematerialized again and is inside of my neighbor.”  I wasn’t going to go down that road.

So, I did the only thing I could think to do in that moment.  I marched right over to your house and knocked on the door.

Oh, Lane, if only you could have seen your face when you opened the door. You were so cute.  I love it when you get flustered like that.  You tried to brush me off, but I wasn’t about to be dismissed.  I knew what I saw and I wanted to know what was happening.

After much persistence – I’m sorry if I was a little hard on you – you invited me into your house…and to your secret.

You changed me forever.  How could I ever go back to boring old normal after knowing that you and your Dad had been to another place.  I mean, how cool is that?

Lane, like it or not, you’re stuck with me.

So, here’s the part that you may or may not want to hear.  Part of me is so frustrated with you for the fact that I don’t know if you want to hear what I’m about to write.  The other part of me understands why it is so hard for you to know.  You’ve been through so much in your life.  When your Dad was “checked out” you lived in fear all the time and you had to take care of Josh.  You didn’t have a normal life.  And, it’s not like the kids at school made it any easier on you.  I always felt so sorry for you.

But now, Lane, I have to say it, whether you want to hear it or not.  I love you.  I love your quirkiness and your brilliance.  I love the way you care for Josh.  I love the intensity you bring to everything you do.

I can’t pretend to just be your best friend any more, Mister.

I know this might not have been the best way to express my feelings to you.  I also know you, and know that this might make our next encounter a bit awkward for you.  I’m sorry about that, but, I just felt like I needed to let you know and give you enough time to process it before you come home for Christmas.

I’m counting the days until you return to us.

Love,

Heather

“Would you like something to drink?”

Lane looked up at the attendant with a blank expression.

“Something to drink?” she repeated.

“Oh, sure. Diet Coke?”

The brown soda fizzed over the ice and she placed the cup on a small napkin in front of him. Lane stared at the effervescence for a long time.

Heather. What was he going to do about that?

The rest of the plane ride was uneventful. The baby woke up and squawked a little, but was mostly just cute and smiley. The landing was actually fun. Soon a bell rang through the cabin. Everyone stood up at once, craning their backs and necks to awkwardly maneuver their bags from the overhead compartments. They stood and waited. Slowly the line moved toward the exit at the front of the plane.

Lane followed the signs that read “baggage claim.” He only had carry-on luggage, but the passenger pick-up was just outside the doors. He weaved his way through the crowd that gathered around carousel 4 and headed toward the bank of glass doors.

A blast of wet, cold air greeted him as the automatic doors slid open. Cars clung to the curb along the full length of the building. He looked to the left. Nothing.  Then to the right. Four cars down he recognized the blue Echo. The back door opened and a little body tumbled out of it. Thick, curly brown hair flopped up and down above the big, blue eyes.

“Lane!” Josh yelled. He ran to his big brother. Lane dropped his bag and opened his arms. Josh jumped in and Lane engulfed him in a long awaited hug.

Words spewed from Josh’s mouth in a gush of passion, “Lane I’m so glad you’re home there’s so much to talk about I want to tell you everything I want to hear all about school our whole family is coming over tonight I’ve been sleeping in your room all semester…”

“Whoa, little man! Slow down!” Lane pulled away from Josh and smiled. “Take a deep breath. I’m going to be home for two weeks. We’ll have plenty of time to talk.”

Josh smiled and buried his face in Lane’s chest.

“I know little J,” Lane said. “It’s good to be back.”

Two more bodies emerged from the tiny car. First, Heather came from the passenger seat. Black curls danced around the edges of a colorful knit cap. She held onto the door and hesitated. Her eyes sparkled. She gnawed on the corner of her bottom lip and waited to see how she would be received.

Wow. He had forgotten how truly beautiful she was. A strange sensation rumbled in Lane’s stomach. It was like a swarm of insects swirled around inside his belly. Some of them got loose and charged up his back. He stopped and looked at her. For a brief moment panic flashed across her face and her shoulders fell. Her eyebrows arched and a sheepish smile begged for Lane’s response. She waved slightly and held her breath.

Lane couldn’t stand it any more. He opened his arms toward her and a wide smile erupted on her face. She bounced once and then ran to him.

She jumped into his arms and his face was lost in her curls. She smelled good. His whole body was enveloped in her presence. The way she smelled, the way her slender body felt in his arms, the beat of her heart against his body, her little giggle in his ear, it was all overwhelming.

The purple words from the letter flashed in his mind “I love you.” Could this be possible? Lane froze. He wasn’t sure what to do now.

He pulled back. Her faced beamed with joy.  Steam from her breath formed a halo around her head and the cold air kissed her cheeks with a rosy glow. He stared and said nothing.

The sparkle in her eyes dimmed, slightly. The corners of her mouth receded. They moved from the full expansion of absolute abandon, and took their place in the polite position that recognized the reality of the situation. Her eyes reflected Lane’s spirit. He was not ready. He didn’t know how to reciprocate her feelings. Not yet.

She looked deeply into his eyes. After a moment she smiled again.  This time it was the smile of gentle resignation. She pulled him close and gave him a long, warm hug.

“Welcome home, Lane. I’ve missed you.”

She moved away from him and the second body filled his vision. His large frame dwarfed the tiny car as he moved around the back end. He stood squarely on the sidewalk and extended his bulky arms.

Lane moved forward and entered the embrace.

Everything went dark. Lightning flashed. Thunder pealed. Rain pelted into his face. The scenery spun around him in a blur. The bulky arms squeezed in on his body.  Large fingers wrapped around the back of his neck and crushed in on his spine. Pain shot down his back. He fought against the grip but couldn’t move. He struggled and pushed back. Finally, he pulled his head back far enough to see.  Two blazing red eyes sat in a tomb of mutilated flesh. Hot breath heaved from the grotesque mask. The Bellator.

Gone. Suddenly. The sky was bright again and the sound of cars moving in and out of the pick-up zone softly buzzed around them. The vision left as quickly as it came and, once again, Lane looked into the eyes of his father. Soft, kind, blue eyes.

Lane shuddered.

“Are you OK, son?”

“Yeah, Dad. I’m just so glad to see you.”

He stuffed his strange emotions and flung himself into Owen’s arms. Father and son embraced long and hard.

“I’m glad you’re home, Lane. It’s just not the same without you.”

Josh jumped into the hug and the three Gray boys relished in their curbside reunion. Heather looked on with approval.

After one extra moment of embrace, Heather interjected. “Come on, boys. People are waiting for our spot. We can continue this at the house.”

“Yes, mother,” Owen said. He looked at Josh.  Josh rolled his eyes and smiled.

Owen popped the trunk and Lane threw his duffle bag into it. They all strapped into the car and Owen drove them away from the loading zone. Lane sat in the passenger seat and Heather rode in the back with Josh.

“Lane, tell us everything,” Josh said. He could hardly contain his excitement. “What’s MIT like? Have you made friends? Did you get to blow anything up? What’s the ocean like?”

“Yeah, Lane,” Heather said, “we want to know everything.”

“Whoa, whoa, hold on you two.” Lane twisted his body to look into the back seat. “One question at a time.”

Lane looked at Owen. “Dad, you know me. Before I launch into some monologue about my MIT experience, you know what my first question is, right?”

Owen laughed, and together they all said, “What’s the plan?”

“Right,” Owen said, “we do have a plan, as a matter of fact.”

“Now you’re talkin’.” Lane clapped his hands in approval.

“Yeah,” Josh said, “it’s a boring plan. Dad, why do we have to do this? Especially tonight, on Lane’s first night back? We hardly know these people.”

Owen looked at Josh in the rear view mirror. “Listen, Josh, we’ve been over this a hundred times. It has been a really long time since we’ve had a family reunion. A bunch of people from your mom’s side of the family called me this fall and wanted to get together with us. Aunt Judy is coordinating it, and this was the only night that worked out for everybody.”

Josh slumped back into the seat and crossed his arms in disappointment.

Owen shook his head and looked over at Lane, “So, that’s the plan. We have a big family reunion happening at our house tonight. Actually, people will be arriving shortly after we get home.”

Lane turned around and looked at Josh. “Hey, little J.  Don’t worry about it. It’ll be like a huge welcome home party for me. We’ll have fun. Let’s just get through tonight and then we’ll have all of Christmas Break to catch up on everything. K?”

“Fine,” Josh pouted. Lane glanced over to Heather and gave a wink.

“Yeah, sport,” Heather poked Josh in the shoulder, “and I’ll be there to protect you from any cheek-pinching, mustachy kissing aunts.”

Josh fought a smile with all his might. He looked up at Lane. “But you have to tell us everything you can before we get home!”

Everyone laughed and Lane agreed. The rest of the ride home was filled with details about MIT and the Boston area.  Lane kept it light and factual, for now. The rest would come in time.

click here to download the first five chapters of Book 2 of the Nectar Trilogy: Amo.

Part 2 of the Nectar Trilogy is scheduled to be released in fall of 2011. Be among the first to read the first five chapters.

In the darkness of my sister-in-law’s basement, clacking on the backlit keys of my son’s laptop, I wrote the final scene of Amo. The journey began last June. The plan was to finish the manuscript last year, but the Book Architects advised me to stop writing the second book and focus on publishing the first. I took their advice and published Pleroma this spring. In June of this year I resumed writing Amo.

I know the story needs a great deal of work, but it is a good feeling to get the first draft out of my head. Now I will let it sit for a while, then come back to it with critical eyes. Ever onward!

The day has finally arrived. The kids are out of school. I have the precious morning hours to myself. Now I can climb back into Lane’s world and resolve this second story in the Nectar Trilogy. I’ve spent the last two weeks reading what I wrote last summer. The good thing is that I still like the story. That’s a good sign. I left Lane, Josh, and Quinn in a precarious situation when I stopped writing last year. I need to get them out of it and on to the climax of the story. Exciting.

Stay tuned…

Pleroma is available at The Valley Bookseller in Stillwater, MN. If you know anyone in that area, let them know they can pick it up there. It is a wonderful local bookseller located right on the St. Croix river. Definitely worth the trip!

Pleroma has been added to the “Living Social” page and is available to review. Here’s what the readers said,

as my “left to read” pages got fewer and fewer, i knew i was going to wish i had book two at hand! great story, great message…favorite quote “he remembered the crows who used to taunt him on his way to school and felt ashamed that he, with a small taste of power, could act just like them.”
a great book to read with your teens, will keep your interest, but no inappropriate stuff!!!

Would you like a sneek peek at Amo: book 2 of the Nectar trilogy? download it here. Enjoy!

I had to rebuild the site. It is a little different from before. I think I like it better now. Sometimes crashes can turn out to be a good thing.