TODAY, WE ARE DELIGHTED TO WELCOME BACK OUR GUEST AUTHOR, CAROL KERRY-GREEN, WHO IS SHARING CHAPTERS 2 AND 3 OF HER NOVEL, 'OF BLOOD AND SHADOWS' #RWRTeamBlog #ReadWriteRepeat
- 8 hours ago
- 11 min read
Chapter 2
Lying on his back in a deserted, dirty alley in New York, wasn’t where Jerome Milton thought he would end up. His life of late had spiralled out of control. He lay there looking up at what he could see of the night sky through the rain. He was getting soaked, but he didn’t move. In some ways, it was liberating not to care about what happened to him. If he stayed here and faded away, no-one would miss him. Well, maybe Chrissy, Hal’s sister… His mind shied away from memories of Hal.
Looking around the alley, he could only see one streetlight high on the wall, but it hardly did anything to light up the area. Not that he needed the light to see what was around him. He had been there since early morning when there’d been plenty of daylight to see the squalidness of the place he found himself in.
Jerome was feeling light-headed, and his stomach was empty from lack of food. He’d had nothing to eat since the burger his friend Chrissy had pressed into his hands the day before yesterday. At least he thought it was the day before yesterday. His sense of time was slipping. Just as it had…
“No,” he muttered to himself. He didn’t want to go there. His memories of that time were still fuzzy, the betrayal he had felt when his father, Mario Ciccone, had thrown him away.
The aftermath and recovery that followed had been hard. He’d changed his name and slipped away to join the army without anyone knowing. But now the army didn’t want him either. Bloody Improvised Explosive Devise! His best friend Hal had been killed instantly and Jerome had been medically discharged because of his injury.
His thoughts shied away from Hal. He couldn’t think about him now. Chrissy, had half-adopted him, though he hadn’t made it easy for her. He’d spent many nights on the sofa in her small apartment. She’d harangued him about his life and what he was doing. He really couldn’t bring himself to care, which is why he found himself lying there passively in the alley.
“Well,” a voice said from the darkness, “what do we have here?”
Jerome looked up through the rain, wiping it from his eyes, to see a tall man hovering over him. His eyes were a piercing amber and his red hair flowed around his shoulders. He was wearing a black trench coat, cinched in at the waist. He was being sheltered under an umbrella held by a blond-haired, blue-eyed man who hung over his left shoulder, as if he belonged there.
Jerome scrambled backwards until his back was against the wall. He didn’t have the energy to get up. He flopped back. Who was he kidding? If they meant him harm there was nothing he could do.
The man in the trench coat leaned down and examined Jerome.
He squinted back at the red-haired man, waiting for a blow that didn’t come.
“Whaddya want?” he slurred, his head spinning from when he had pushed himself into a sitting position.
Blondie joined his friend in squatting before him and stared into his eyes. It felt weird, as though he was looking into his soul.
“Jerome,” he breathed his name. Jerome jumped and the red-haired man said something which sounded like ‘finally’.
“How to you know my name?” he asked, scrabbling round now to escape the two
men.
“We’ve been looking for you a long time, Jerome.” Red Hair smiled at him, his amber eyes shining, as his entire face lit up.
“What…?”
“Beatrice sends her regards,” Red Hair said, and Jerome jumped, almost struggling to his feet, before slithering down the wall again.
“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” He refused to look at them. Memories of a comforting presence and a beautiful smile accompanied the name Beatrice. She had been his saviour.
“Oh, I think you do.” The red-haired man knelt before him and smiled. “My name is Cornelius Rossini, and it is so, so good to finally meet you.”
Jerome shook his head, then wished he hadn’t as the light-headedness returned. He keeled over to one side.
“It’s okay, Jerome,” Cornelius said, helping him to sit back up. “I know this will be hard for you to believe, but we really have been searching for you since you disappeared from the hospital.”
“I don’t understand,” he admitted. “How… how did you find me here?”
“Your friend, Chrissy.”
“What…”
“We finally traced you to the army, only to find out you’d been discharged. Chrissy’s address is in your file as being a contact address for you. She’s very worried about you.”
“I don’t understand,” he repeated. “What do you want with me?”
“Why don’t we go somewhere where it’s dry and more comfortable than this alley?” Blondie asked.
“Who’re you? If he’s Cornelius, what’s your name?”
“Dastan,” he offered.
Jerome sighed. Knowing the other man’s name didn’t really help him. He tried to sit up again, finally managing it with Cornelius’s help. Obviously, his idea of lying in this alley until he faded away was not going to happen.
“Well?” Dastan asked.
“How do I know I can trust you?”
“You don’t, not really,” Cornelius replied. “I can offer you answers, though. Answers about Mario Ciccone… and your family.”
“Ciccone’s nothing to me,” Jerome spat out. “He… he….”
“We know, Jerome, we know,” Dastan said, as he helped Jerome to his feet. With Cornelius’s help he managed to get his arm under Jerome’s left shoulder.
“Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable,” Cornelius said.
Jerome tried to struggle away from them, but he was too weak. His strength had been eroded over the last few weeks as he’d spiralled further into a dark depression. He’d stopped eating and his injured leg had gotten worse. He felt himself helpless in their hands. Giving up, he allowed them to take him where they would.
Dastan and Cornelius helped him walk towards the end of the alley where, for the first time, Jerome noticed that a large white SUV, its engine running, was waiting.
Fuck, he thought. I hope I’m not going to regret this.
Chapter 3
Cornelius entered the bedroom where Jerome slept. It was 10 am the day after they had found him in the alley. He looked down on the young man and could just make out the boy he had been. He hadn’t seen his great grandson since he was about five, when he had last visited his granddaughter, Sherwood. He smiled as he remembered the bright, intelligent boy who had wanted to know everything he could tell him about the Donati. His mother had neglected to tell him anything about his heritage, only saying it had caused her more trouble than it was worth.
The young man stirred in the bed and Cornelius sat down in a chair near the balcony doors, which were open to let the fresh spring air into the room. It wasn’t long before Jerome opened his eyes and tried to sit up. He winced in pain, but Cornelius was there to help him get settled and pull the pillows behind his back.
“How are you feeling today?” he asked.
“Confused.” The young man shook his head, then grimaced. “Note to self, don’t shake your head.”
Cornelius smiled at him. “What do you remember from yesterday?”
“Not much. The alley, rain coming down, you.”
“Do you know who I am?”
Jerome went to shake his head again, before changing his mind. “You said your name was Cornelius.”
“Yes. Do you remember seeing me before yesterday? Perhaps when you were a child?”
“I don’t know. You seem familiar but… it’s all a blur.” He swallowed. “I remember you mentioned Beatrice yesterday. Is she here?
His tone was hopeful and Cornelius was pleased. His niece was still in Italy but he was sure when he called her, she would come rushing to help Jerome.
“No,” he replied. “I wanted to make sure you were in a state to meet her before letting her know you were here.”
“Whaddya mean?” The young man bristled.
“Yesterday you were lying in an alley. To all intents and purposes, it looked like you would be quite happy to stay there until the end. Your friend Chrissy said she had been getting more and more worried about you. She said that she thought you’d given up on life. How you had stopped going to the VA hospital for treatment and physiotherapy for your leg. How you had stopped eating, washing, sleeping. She was very happy to see me and tell us where she thought you had gone.”
“Some friend,” Jerome growled.
“Yes, she is,” Cornelius replied, sternly. “When you’re feeling better, you will have to contact her so she doesn’t worry too much.”
There was a knock on the door and Cornelius shouted for them to enter. An older man with craggy features and grey hair entered the room. He was carrying a tray with a glass of orange juice and a covered plate from which enticing smells wafted.
“Thanks, Shea,” Cornelius said as he indicated that the other man put the tray down on the dresser nearest to Jerome.
“Jerome, I’d like you to meet my steward, Shea. He runs the house, our security, and generally makes our lives easier.” Cornelius smiled at the older man.
`
“Er, hi,” Jerome muttered quietly.
“Jerome,” Shea replied, smiling. “It’s good to meet you at last. Do you need anything else?” he asked Cornelius before turning to leave the room.
“No, I’m good.”
Shea nodded once, then left, closing the door behind him. Cornelius moved and helped Jerome sit up properly in bed, fluffing up the pillows behind his back, so he could sit back comfortably. Only when he was satisfied did he pick up the tray and place it over Jerome’s knee, before lifting the cover from the plate. It revealed a light fluffy omelette with chopped ham and tomatoes. Cornelius could hear Jerome’s stomach groaning.
“Eat up.” He gestured at the plate and Jerome glanced warily at him.
“It’s okay, you need to build your reserves up.”
“No coffee?” the young man muttered.
“Later, when you’re up to it. Now eat up, then you can catch up on more sleep. I’ve arranged for my personal doctor to come in and see you later.”
“Don’t need no doctor…” The words were muffled as Jerome began tearing into the omelette. Cornelius smiled to himself. He reminded him very much of his own son Jacoby when he was ill or hurt – grumpy and reluctant to be helped.
“Where’s the other dude?” Jerome asked him as he finished his food and drank his juice.
“Dastan? Downstairs answering his emails, I should imagine.”
“Hmpf, thought he was your shadow.”
Cornelius laughed. “Something like that. Now, do you need help to use the bathroom before you sleep again?”
Grumbling some more, Jerome attempted to get out of bed on his own. He realised he did need help so, reluctantly, the young man allowed Cornelius to help him to the bathroom before closing the door in his face. Several moments passed before he opened the door again, his face white.
“Okay,” he said. “Guess I’m more out of it than I thought.”
Cornelius only nodded and helped his young guest back to bed.
“Get some more sleep. Dr Browning isn’t due until this afternoon. I’ll be back up later with some lunch. If you need me press that button there. Shea will answer the intercom and let me know.” He pointed to a small white button attached to the bedside cabinet, before helping Jerome get comfortable once more.
He watched for a while as sleep overcame the young man, then tray in hand he left the room to go in search of his lover.
*****
He found Dastan in the library where he was just finishing checking his emails.
Cornelius walked over and gave him a kiss before sitting down in one of the plush chairs across from him.
“How did it go?” Dastan asked.
“Okay. He’s still pretty out of it, but grumpy with it, like Jacoby used to get.”
“He remembered yesterday?”
“Yes.” Cornelius stared off into space, and Dastan got up and joined him on the comfortable chair. Just enough room for two if they snuggled.
Pulling Cornelius into his arms, he said. “We got to him in time, Neely. Remember that.”
“I know,” he sighed. “I just worry for him. There’s so much to tell him, so much he doesn’t know. I only scraped the surface when he was a child, I thought we’d have all the time in the world.”
Cornelius took comfort from his lover, as Dastan pulled him in and held him. He had done his best, but when Sherwood had died in an accident, his own son, Jerome’s grandfather, had shown no interest in the boy. When Mario Ciccone had claimed him as his own, Cornelius had tried to oppose it, but Jacoby had accepted it and there was nothing he could do at the time.
He and Dastan had been in Rome, finishing up a task for the Donati Council, when Jerome had been removed from school by Ciccone. It was only his own misgivings that had had him ask Shea to keep an eye on the boy from time to time. Shea had reported that Jerome was missing, and Cornelius could only look on from afar as he sent Beatrice and Theo to find him.
They’d rescued him, only to have the boy disappear a few weeks later. Thank goodness for the computer skills of Shea’s son Donal in finding him.
“Shh,” Dastan said. “I can feel your mind skittering all over the place.”
He reached up and touched Cornelius’s temples, gently massaging them. Slowly, Cornelius’s mind stopped spinning and he smiled at his lover, forever thankful that he had found him. They sat like that for several minutes, communing silently with each other. The door opened and Shea entered with a tray of coffee. He raised his eyebrows at the couple and chuckled.
“Is it safe to come in?” he asked.
“Of course,” Cornelius answered, taking the coffee Shea offered him. His steward had been with him a long time, over one hundred and fifty years now, since just before his wife, Elise had been murdered. He was part of the family and he didn’t know what he would do without him, or his son Donal, if they decided to leave his service.
They settled down to their morning coffee. The conversation was kept light. There was nothing they could do until the doctor had been and they knew where they stood with Jerome’s injuries from when he was in the army.
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Amazon link to the book: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Blood-Shadows-Donati-Chronicles-Book-ebook/dp/B093T1Z5QD/
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AUTHOR BIO
Born in Hull, Yorkshire in 1960 Carol Kerry-Green began writing as a preteen. She states that she ‘grew up reading science fiction and fantasy and still loves a good fantasy novel to this day.’ Her writing has always explored the question ‘what if’?
Carol worked as a Professional Genealogist for fifteen years, and uses the research skills learnt then to the benefit of her books. Often local and family history are a large part of her fiction. During this period, she also wrote several articles for Family History Magazines and gave talks at Historical conferences.
After a hiatus in fiction writing for over twenty years, she returned to writing in 2017 when she joined a writer’s group in her home city. This led to her publishing her first book, which has been followed by six more since then.
Now running the writer’s group, she finds that it helps to focus her mind on her writing and working with other authors is a very rewarding activity.
Carol loves many genres including Urban Fantasy, Paranormal, Science Fiction, Fantasy, Historical fiction and crime, especially those set in the 1920s and 1930s.
Her work now is mostly in the Urban Fantasy & Paranormal Romance genres. Her latest release Robin in Winter is a MM Urban Fantasy set in York, involving shifters, physic gifts and vampires.
She has lived in her home city for most of her life, spending two years in York, where her recent series Byrdes of York is set. Returning to Hull, she settled down and married Steve Kerry in 1997. They live in the house they bought that year, with full bookshelves and four (sometimes) five cats, who think they rule the house. Steve is also an author, which is how the couple met when Steve attended a writer’s workshop Carol was running with friends.
TikTok: carolkerrygreenbooks.
Website: http://www.carolkerrygreenbooks.com
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COMING SOON: On Monday, 4th June, our team member, author Eva Bielby, is sharing
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