When we were getting ready to release Bryony back in 2011, my daughter Sarah (who did a lot of the marketing for me) suggested I pull thirty teaser quotes from the book that she could post on Facebook, one each day.
But to rise strong and unscathed, some will be sacrificed
along the way. Who gets to live and thrive? And who decides?
Prologue
George gasped, choked, and convulsed; blood shot from his mouth, spattering the fish loaf, boiled cabbage, apple pudding, and the cheese he had scorned and staining the white tablecloth with tributaries of scarlet.
Chapter 1: A Sick Man and His Dream
“Simons Mansion!” Dr. Parks exclaimed. “I rescue you from the brink of hell, and you ask about Simons Mansion?”
Chapter 2: Night Crawler
A deathly quiet surrounded him, a silence not broken by the pounding of his heart or the roaring of his breath in his ears as he used to know deafening silences. It was just Henry and the dog, and neither was alive anymore.
Chapter 3: Lake of Fire
They choked on smokes; they dodged stampedes and gunfire. They waded through whispering corn; they poured the wine, slept in brothels, and bought their spring wardrobe, their summer wardrobe, their fall wardrobe.
Chapter 4: Stripe for Stripe
Faraway from inside the
colonial, a clock struck two with solemn gongs.
The hour of the demon.
Or so he always wrote.
Chapter 5: River of Life
“What would Dad think if we let his good friend die?” Leo said quietly as he rolled up his sleeve to the shoulder. “Would he rejoice in heaven? Smile down at our good sense?”
Chapter 6: Red Meat
He cared about
blood.
Not family blood, but the
blood of families laid out in their beds like quail on a serving platter. He
flinched and shuddered at the thought of that delicate bird roasted in its
juice with black pepper and allspice. The only quail that quickened his palate
was raw, bloody, and ebbing from life.
Chapter 7: Weeping Cometh by Day
Healthy residents retire
at night; a random few expire before dawn. Could a mutated tuberculosis be the
cause? A new plague from distant lands that migrated to these soils?
It seems unlikely the
cause is demons, not with a rumored vivisectionist practicing in their midst,
who could easily stake and dismember any prowling vampires.
For the safety of all, a
quarantine remains in place, which all are heeding.
Except the vampires.
Chapter 8: From Cellar to Ceiling
Kellen Wechsler, John’s manager, was lounging in a wingback far away from the fire, sulking and smoking a cigar. He wore only black, the same shade as his hair, eyes, goatee, nails, everything except his waxy skin, which was pale as death. Unlike John, Kellen sported a certain “freshness,” like when a butcher presses blood into spoiled meat for reselling
Chapter 9: A Place of Perdition
"You dream by night; you know the nature of dreams. When dawn arrives, you eagerly allow dreams to fragment and disperse in favor of daylight and sunshine. Well, Little Marie, I am like a man wakened from a long sleep. It is time that I, too, walk in the light. Have you no comment?”
Chapter 10: The Dead Should Be His Own
So Kellen clawed his way out of his crypt with his phony vampire kit in his hand and reemerged behind Simons Mansion, ready to do his evil deed, which Kellen assured himself was really a good deed, like culling deer.
Chapter 11: A Little Wine for Your Stomach, Part One
But Dr. Parks only looked inside the goblet, as if hypnotized by its ripples, and she wondered what he saw: the wine’s deep color, almost black with a plum blush near the top, or something beyond the wine.
For if one peered closely, one might perceive nuances of its bouquet: elegant, smooth, and mature, a wine to be savored in all its complexities. A more reflective person might detect the high regard the family had for its head – and the head’s physician – since only the best was served up to them. One who pondered spiritual truths might understand the medicinal depths this wine represented, both to the drinker and the one who poured.
But most people didn’t look that far.
Chapter 12: A Little Wine for Your Stomach, Part Two
“Look, you can cultivate elegance and civility like a decent human being.”
“I’m neither decent nor human.”
Chapter 13: Brain Fever
But although Marie dutifully bent her head over her grammar, sparks of panic disrupted the pathway between her mind and the written characters, and she spent most of the time stomping them out.
Chapter 14: None Greater Can Be Conceived
When he finally reached the top, he turned left for the opportunity to turn right was gone; he must only turn left; he was incapable of turning any other way.
Chapter 15: When Even
Words Won’t Stir Him
Isabella had not washed or changed her clothes for many days, and she smelled as grubby as she looked, nothing like rose water.
Chapter 16: Small Bites
“Leeches?” Henry, curious, stepped closer. Sure enough, the glass jars held leeches, not worms. “I don’t recall leeches as part of New York and Chicago’s polite society, but perhaps the rules are different here at Simons Mansion.”
Chapter 17: In Which a Discourse Arises Between Dr. Parks
and Little Marie
For the Grim Reaper stood ready with his scythe, and he cast a wide veil over their hope, even though they’d put their whole strength at keeping George Clare on the green side of life.
Chapter 18: Bad Fruit
Henry ravenously tore into one body after another. Kellen squatted on Henry’s death chair, like a frog preparing to catch flies, and urged Henry and John to hurry with rude, sarcastic remarks: “Come on, eat up!” “Don’t let anyone go to waste!” “This will help you grow big and strong!” and “Tastes just like chicken!”
Chapter 19: Man to Man
Just one glance at Dr. Parks’ companion, and Marie immediately knew Death had an enemy, a force more robust, more sinister than Death had yet encountered, a force that smelled, not of brimstone, but of aromatic pipe tobacco.
Chapter 20: Father of Lies
He paused at the Schwechten, tracing a gaunt finger through its burr walnut swirls as if noticing them for the first time. He and his piano: both well-played.
Chapter 21: Sabbath Day
“I used to dream,” Luther said. Then he cocked his wrist and flicked the rock across the lake. It skipped, skipped, skipped, skipped, leaving widening circles in its wake. “But I don’t anymore.” He looked pointedly at Marie. “And If you wish to live at ease with yourself, I advise you to do the same.”
Chapter 22: Thorns with Poison
I know you are quite alone in the world, and that you are in-dependent and freethinking, but even modern women need to con-sider their reputations, and you are no exception, especially since “he” appears to have no regard for it at all.
Chapter 23: The Dead Man Rises
George’s shoulders sagged, and he ran a trembling hand through his hair. “Can you not look at me? Because you see a monster?”
Chapter 24: Drawing Back the Moon
“The grieving John Simons,” Dr. Gothart remarked to Kellen one night. “Each note perfectly executed and devoid of warmth, like chimes of ice.”
Chapter 25: The Prodigal So
Today, he was both doctor and patient, and the latter filled him with dread and unease. He’d rather strip naked and strut across Main Street than bare his soul. Vulnerability did not suit him.
Chapter 26: Redefining Life
Great. Flashbacks. That’s what Henry needed right now, a visit from the Ghost of his Evansville Past. Henry was dead; Horace wanted to be dead, and Henry was here to get the job done, not stroll down Memory Lane.
Chapter 27: Scrap Tossed to the Winds
Mostly, the essence of her papa’s vibrancy was gone. Marie saw what the others did not: a semi-forced gaiety. He no longer had hope in his eyes. Just the color blue.
Chapter 28: A New Gastronomy
He kept one eye on the next step in the recipes while nibbling here, tasting there, and licking his fingers, as any cook secretly does when no one is watching.
Chapter 29: Hope and a Future
Whereas some men had intelligence and skill, Dr. Parks also had discernment. And where some physicians recovered the bodily health of their patients, Dr. Parks restored the entire man. She knew why people condemned his vivisectionist activities. One can’t see into a person without inflicting pain. Stay on the surface, be at ease, as Luther might say. But then never be whole.
Chapter 30: The Wolf Shall Dwell With The Lamb
He thought of Pa, so like the illustration of a reed from an old botany textbook: slender, bendable to winds of misfortune, and, like any invasive species, equipped with a tenacious ability for survival by suppressing competitors, including his own family, wherever he rooted himself. Pa took what he wanted, including Henry’s mother.
Epilogue
Except for the royal blue and dark hair, she was a miniature replica of her mother, and she stopped and looked up at him from beneath the brim of her regal hat, and the look was blank and devoid of connection. It wasn’t trusting. It wasn’t knowing. It wasn’t a look of anticipation for the future or thankfulness for his role in facilitating that future. It was simply a look.
