The past week or so I finished planning and preparation for the next book (name and series to be announced). I am faced with the dreaded Beginning. How do I get this thing off the ground?
The Duke of Glenmoor was dead. Or so Dinah’s cousin claimed. Of course, Eustace was deep in his cups when he said it, and subject to drama at the best of times.
He might not have mentioned it if his sister Selina hadn’t expressed a moony eyed hope the young and very eligible duke, their nearest neighbor of note, would return home now that fall approached, declaring she needed a new wardrobe since they had only recently left off mourning for her mother, Dinah’s aunt.
“Well he ain’t coming back soon. I can tell you that. Word in London is, he has disappeared,” Eustace declared, waving his empty wine glass. A footman rushed to refill it.
Selina’s spoon clattered to her plate, and Uncle Ludlow bristled. “Nonsense. Dukes don’t just disappear,” he said. Selina’s distress no doubt owed more to the loss of a chance to fix Glenmoor’s attention than any real concern for the poor man.
Eustace shrugged. “He may be dead. Betting in the clubs is that he did himself in.”
Dinah shuddered and Uncle Ludlow glared at him in horror.
“But he has to come home,” Selina wailed. “Now mourning is over there could be assemblies, and, and…”
“You’ll never get the pair of them married off,” Eustace sneered, slurping his wine. “Dee is a Friday faced Methodist and Selina’s whining would drive a man to drink.”
Well SOMEone is going to come. We’ll see how it goes.
Note: excerpts from works in progress may have not yet been edited, will likely undergo change, and may not even make it into the final work!