Prequel 1/5

“It was enough she felt the woman’s gaze burning into her skin and looking up was unnecessary in times like these. She knew who the woman was and why she’d come and the rest was history.” — Britney King, Beyond Bedrock 

I’m not absolutely certain but…I’m pretty certain that Beyond Bedrock is one of my most under read and therefore underrated novels. Which is sad because I think it’s some of my best work. Even if a few reviewers tend to disagree. 🙂

When I wrote the book (which has been called ‘Single White Female meets Fatal Attraction’) I had no idea that I’d later write more of Lydia’s story. But she really grew on me— and thus the idea for Water Under The Bridge was born. Not to spoil the story for you… but Lydia is the psychopath (who is quite clever in my book;) which assumes the alias Kate in Water Under The Bridge.

That said, I consider Beyond Bedrock a prequel— although it is NOT necessary to read it before reading Water Under The Bridge. On that subject, just a side note about my books— most of them have overlapping characters—but read as standalones. In fact, you don’t have to read the first two Bedrock books to understand Beyond Bedrock—although it’d be nice if you did. 🙂

Anyway, I thought I’d share excerpts of Beyond Bedrock here over the next several weeks leading up to the release of Water Under The Bridge.

Keep in mind, she’s crazy.

And, also, probably one of the most real characters I’ve ever written.

---

The Story of Us.

By Lydia H.

I knew I loved him from the first moment I saw him. That day, I wore black as sure and as dark as night. It wasn’t like you’d think… He didn’t smile and take my hand the way I often liked to imagine. In fact, our coming together wasn’t like that at all. It was an ordinary morning, early spring, the sun bright and yet still further away than one knew it soon would be. I can recall it as though it happened just yesterday. I was brushing my teeth—half-listening to the morning news and half dreading going to the office. I brushed harder and watched the blood drip onto the porcelain as the crushing weight of the anxiety set in. I felt the familiar buzz; the low hum of noise that always precedes a full-blown panic attack. And then, all at once, I heard his voice and something inside me shook and shifted in the world. As he spoke, the buzzing stopped and I swear there was clarity and crispness like I’d never known. And, all at once, my vision for the future was focused and sharp.

Sure, I’d heard his name before, given all that had happened. But I’d avoided him and anything even closely resembling what had once been—just like I avoided germs and crowds full of people. Because crowds full of people are overwhelming, (not to mention germ-infested) they’re intimidating, foreign, and unknowing.

And until that moment, so had been William Hartman.

I spat blood into the sink and dropped the toothbrush onto the counter like the omen that it was. Then I turned my full attention back to the television where it belonged and wondered how it was possible anything on this earth could be so perfectly perfect. There he stood in his crisp white shirt, suit, and tie, all of him—filling up so much space. As he spoke, he touched his tie and sucked the air right out of the room and, with it, the air from my lungs. One movement on his part and he suddenly set everything right in my world, and I wondered why now? I remember that he was speaking on the Gleason merger, and I knew then I would help him as he had helped me. I didn’t know when or how, but I knew I’d find a way. My father taught me that ‘where there’s a will, there’s a way!’—one of the few good things he’d ever imparted upon me—if we’re being honest here, and we are.

As I watched him finish the interview, I no longer felt panicked or unease. I felt lighter and thinner.

Just like the black I wore.

I had a purpose now.

And that purpose was him.

---