I walk most days – and if my knees feel up to it and I’ve slept more than 4 hours (rarely) — I run. I created a playlist on Spotify because my son just put me on is family plan. Lately I’ve been re-obsessed with a few old favorites and this one (not old) by DNCE (is that an acronym for Dunce? I don’t know.) I have a question though. Why is Cake by the Ocean listed as explicit? I get it … cake … sex by the ocean… yeah … but that’s pretty much every song. Lyrics below.
One more excerpt nearing the end of my first book in this series.
Jan 3, 1995, Newspaper clipping: Garrett Ryan Beaumont III was found dead in the East River on January 2, 1995. His body was discovered by a trash tug early that morning. A note found in a wine bottle was recovered on the shore later that day.
The paper didn’t mention that the wine was a 1982 Latour or that Garrett went by his middle name, dropping the reference to his place as the third in a line of thieves and murderous aristocrats. Few people knew or suspected anything out of the ordinary about Ryan—he was, at the simplest, a lover of life and at his most complex, a man tormented by his familial past most of which had died tragically by declared accidents or, by what some called, supernatural circumstances. He seemed to hold no thoughts of his family except his mother. He often spoke of his last dance with her at his cousin’s wedding at the Essex.
“We can lift ourselves out of ignorance, we can find ourselves as creatures of excellence and intelligence and skill. We can be free! We can learn to fly!”
Jonathan Livingston Seagull, Richard Bach
The photo was taken in Belize but it was too dark to catch much detail particularly of the gull, so I substituted a different one.
Another excerpt from the book.
Tom Allen’s cliff house above Pfeiffer Beach in Big Sur was full of wonders and oddities and one of the reasons Jax liked to visit even though there were no typical kid things to do. This weekend—this birthday of Jax was different. All three of them were in a state of transition. Jax was leaving the single digits of childhood, Sara had begun a year of metamorphosis unsure if she would emerge a butterfly, and Tom had stepped out onto the rocky edge of madness. The essence of all that could be seen as transformative, but it was as unstable as the water below.