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Tags: #FICTION/Anthologies (multiple authors)
I Never Thought I'd See You Again: A Novelists Inc. Anthology
- Title
- Introduction by Lou Aronica
- 36 Hours by Allison Brennan
- Facing the Mirror by Dianne Despain
- Solomon’s Paradox by Kelly McClymer
- Play it Again, Sam by Deb Stover
- Christmas Eve at Alison’s Diner by Janet Tronstad
- Persephone’s Granddaughter by Alyssa Day
- The Greek, the Dog, Shangri-La and Me by Janet Woods
- A Streetcar Named Death by Greg Herren
- The Tower by Mary Hart Perry
- Fabian’s Wake by Laura Resnick
- Katy’s Place by Barbara Meyers
- Backdraft by Kathryn Shay
- Because of You by JoAnn A. Grote
- Skipper and I by Ann La Farge
- The Only Girl in the World by C.B. Pratt
- Tide Change by Shirley Parenteau
These stories are works of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.
The Story Plant
Studio Digital CT, LLC
PO Box 4331
Stamford, CT 06907
Copyright © 2013 by Novelists Inc.
Jacket design by Barbara Aronica-Buck
“36 Hours” copyright © 2013 by Allison Brennan
“Facing the Mirror” copyright © 2013 by Dianne Despain
“Solomon’s Paradox” copyright © 2013 by Kelly McClymer
“Play it Again, Sam” copyright © 2013 by Deb Stover
“Christmas Eve at Alison’s Diner” copyright © 2013 by Janet Tronstad
“Persephone’s Granddaughter” copyright © 2013 by Alyssa Day
“The Greek, the Dog, Shangri-La and Me” copyright © 2013 by Janet Woods
“A Streetcar Named Death” copyright © 2013 by Greg Herren
“The Tower” copyright © 2013 by Mary Hart Perry
“Fabian’s Wake” copyright © 2013 By Laura Resnick
“Katy’s Place” copyright © 2013 by Barbara Meyers
“Backdraft” copyright © 2013 By Kathryn Shay
“Because of You” copyright © 2013 by JoAnn A. Grote
“Skipper and I” copyright © 2013 by Ann La Farge
“The Only Girl in the World” copyright © 2013 by C. B. Pratt
“Tide Change” copyright © 2013 by Shirley Parenteau
Print ISBN-13: 978-1-61188-079-3
E-book ISBN-13: 978-1-61188-080-9
Visit our website at
www.thestoryplant.com
Visit the Novelists Inc. website at
www.ninc.com
All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever except as provided by US Copyright Law. For information, address Studio Digital CT.
First Story Plant Paperback Printing: July 201
When we began to think about creating a follow-up to our first anthology,
Cast of Characters
, those of us on the Novelists Inc. board at the time considered a number of options.
Should we choose a particular genre?
That didn’t feel right, because, while all of our members are novelists, what they write is so diverse.
Should we choose a particular se
t
ting?
That might work, but it would mean excluding writers uncomfortable with that setting, and it didn’t seem appropriate over his cup of coffee. l it that anyone be disqualified for such an arbitrary reason.
Ultimately, we decided to go back to third grade. We’d offer a writing prompt. The sort of thing an elementary school teacher might assign to get kids to express themselves:
if I were a farm animal . . .
or
the thing I love most about school is . . ..
Since we were dealing with seasoned, highly successful writers, we assumed we could go with a more sophisticated prompt and that we could expect considerably more sophisticated results.
I gave this quite a bit of thought, but one morning the phrase, “I never thought I’d see you again” came to me. I resonated with it immediately. A few days later, I was sitting with the other Ninc board members at our annual conference and I tried it out on them. Their response confirmed that I’d hit on something. One board member said the phrase immediately made her think of a love story. Another heard a note of threat in the phrase and imagined a story of suspense. A third saw possibilities in the magical.
This was exactly what we wanted, a prompt that would be open to wildly different interpretations that would also connect the stories with a core emotion.
I never thought I’d see you again
. I’d like to believe that an image or scene flashed in your own head as you read that line.
I hope you find these offerings fascinating. These are very fine storytellers working at the tops of their games. If you’d like to learn more about our organization (or even join if you’re a novelist with at least two full-length publications to your credit), you can find us at
www.ninc.com
.
Lou Aronica
June, 2013
New York Times
and
USA Today
bestselling author of twenty thrillers and numerous short stories. A five-time RITA award nominee for Best Romantic Suspense, she also won the Daphne du Maurier Award for Best Suspense for
Fear No Evil
.
RT Book Reviews
has called her books “pulse-pounding” and “wonderfully complex” and said that Allison is, “A master of suspense — tops in the genre.” Lisa Gardner said, “Brennan knows how to deliver.” Allison lives in Northern California with her husband Dan and their five children. Visit her website at
www.allisonbrennan.com
for more information about her books.
When I was given the prompt, “I never thought I’d Hispanic, approximately st changed much since see you again,” Angel Saldana came to me fully-formed. She was feisty, strong-willed, and street smart but I had no idea what her story was. Was this a romance, where she never thought she’d never see her boyfriend again and he pops in to help her? No, it didn’t feel right. Angel is only fifteen. What about her alcoholic mother? Where was she and how did Angel end up in juvenile hall? No, not that either. Her best friend is missing, was Marisa going to return? Nope. Then something just clicked. I thought of all the kids who never knew their f
a
thers while growing up, including me. Each one has a diffe
r
ent story. Angel’s dad walks into her life to help her — when she didn’t even know he’d been keeping tabs on her in the first place. “I never thought I’d see you again” goes both ways for father and daughter as they meet for the first time in ten years
—
while running from people who want Angel dead
.
Chapter One
Angel Saldana knew she was in danger the minute the assistant warden told her two detectives had arrived to escort her to a group home.
She was sitting in the waiting room, reading a paperback thriller she’d stolen from the back of the squad car that had brought her to juvie this morning. It’d been on the floor, no place for a book, and she didn’t figure the cop would notice. The book was about some guy named Reacher who was just walking down the highway, minding his own business, when he got arrested for a crime he didn’t commit. The cops didn’t know anything until the Reacher guy set them straight, and they
still
sent him to prison for the weekend. He’d practically solved their entire case, and they just ran around like idiots. Angel could
so
relate. Here she was sitting in juvie
against her will
all because she was trying to do the right thing.
“Angel, the officers are here to take you to the home,” the assistant warden, Lambert, said.
Not
her
home, but
the
home. A group home. She’d been stuck in one before; they were almost worse than juvie.
“The district attorney’s office feels you’ll be safer elsewhere.”
Safer?
Hardly.
But at least outside the building she’d have a chance of survival.
But if she ran, her deal was off. Wasn’t that what they called a
Catch-22?
Dead if she runs, dead if she doesn’t.
Angel had agreed to testify against Raul Garcia, the head of the G-5 gang, because she didn’t really have a choice — wrong place, wrong time, all trying to help a friend stay out of trouble. The
minute
Angel found out that Marisa was dating Raul’s brother George, she’d warned her to stay
far
away. But Marisa hadn’t listened to Angel when they were five, why’d Angel think she’d listen to her now that they were fifteen?
Angel was more worried that something had happened to Marisa said, stepping into the room">
“ma. She hoped she was just in hiding, that she’d simply chickened out of testifying against the Garcias. But Angel hadn’t seen or heard from her in three days.
Assistant District Attorney Kristina Larson assured Angel that she wasn’t in any trouble, as long as she told the truth Monday morning. Telling the truth wasn’t going to be the problem. Staying alive for the next thirty-six hours? The jury was out on
that
one. Angel had asked Larson about Marisa; she said the cops were still looking for her.
That didn’t make Angel feel any better.
Lambert continued. “I hope you can stay out of trouble this time, Angel. You’re a smart kid. Too smart for this shit you get yourself into.”
Trouble was relative. Lambert only knew Angel by her record and the two stints she’d already done in juvie. Being picked up for vandalism for keying the Bastard’s car after he’d pinched her on the ass for the hundredth time. (His name was Mr. Bernardo, but Angel preferred the Bastard. Call a spade a spade, right?) For truancy when she didn’t go to school, protesting that the Bastard was still teaching even after Angel reported his grabby hands to the assistant principal. And then the time she got arrested for joyriding past curfew without a license. (Where’s the joy in picking up her drunk mother from a bar?)
The trouble Angel was most concerned about was the kind that hurt. Or, considering that the Garcia family was involved, the kind of trouble that killed.
“You’re not under arrest,” Lambert said. “This is for your protection.”
“I know.” She almost wanted to take her chances here in juvie.
Don’t be a dumbass — there’s no way out of here.
What she really wanted was to go home, but no way they’d let her do that when her mom was in rehab (again) and everyone who was anyone (anyone bad) seemed to know she was going to testify against Raul Garcia. Angel had asked Kristina the lawyer if she could go home with her for the weekend, and the ADA seemed so flustered and surprised that Angel had backed down. Angel realized the woman was nice because she needed something; when all was said and done, Kristina Larson was a ladder-climbing lawyer, and
she
was still Angel Saldana, a half-Hispanic, half-whatever, juvenile delinquent who just happened to get good grades and ace standardized tests.
