What We're Writing @LucyBurdette

LUCY BURDETTE: We've just finished making the transition from Connecticut to Key West--it doesn't seem like it should be that hard, but boy am I discombobulated. And in the middle of the trip, the ebook edition of UNSAFE HAVEN was released, so I've tried to let the world know about that. (Hardcover and audio to come December 7.) 

Meanwhile, I also finished the the first round of edits for A DISH TO DIE FOR, number 12 in the Key West food critic mystery series that will be out next August. Here's the cover--so pretty! Now the second round of edits is in my inbox--I am very happy about how this turned out. I’ve told you a little bit about that book here, and it's available for pre-order now!

But what am I actually writing? The opening for book number 13, which basically at this point has no name, no cover, and don’t tell my editor, but no distinct plot. Writer Edwin Hill proposed an interesting approach to National Novel Writing Month on Facebook a couple of weeks ago. He planned to try to write 1500 words a day for a prescribed number of days and then go back and outline the book based on what he'd produced. Kind of an interesting idea. And it does match my sense over the last few books that I don’t know what a book is about until I’ve written some of it. So we’ll see what Actually Happens, but I will offer you a snippet of Key West #13 and hope you find it intriguing! I'm enjoying bringing Violet and Bettina, the scone sisters from A SCONE OF CONTENTION, to visit Key West...

Chapter Two

Violet and Bettina were the last passengers to disembark. Swathed in plaid wool, they entered the arrivals area blinking like badgers emerging from a den into the light and the crowd. Miss Gloria shrieked with excitement and flapped her glittery sign.

“Welcome! We are so thrilled to have you here in our country.” She hugged them each in turn and they hugged her back. “Give me your coats,” she said, “you’re going to roast if you stay all wrapped up as if you’ve arrived in the Highlands.” I moved forward to take their carry-on bags and pecked them each on the cheek.

“Welcome to Key West!” I said. “Miss Gloria has been dying to show you around our town.”

As I remembered, the two sisters looked very much alike, though Bettina was a little taller and stockier than her older sister and had distinctive pale blue eyes. They had similar haircuts, short gray bobs, and wore skirts that fell to their knees and sensible lace up shoes. 

Once we collected their two enormous suitcases, we loaded up the Buick and headed home. The two sisters oohed and ahhed all the way across town, even though the jaunt from the airport to Houseboat Row was not the most scenic that the island had to offer. 

“Wait till we show you the town,” send Miss Gloria. “You are going to love our bakeries too. Have you ever had key lime pie?” 

We piled out of the car and Miss Gloria herded them up the wooden finger of the dock that led to our boats. Behind them, I dragged the two heavy suitcases. I wondered if they’d brought baking equipment with them to take on their tour. I knew that serious chefs carried their knives with them, but for bakers? A special rolling pin? Pastry cutter? Or an implement I hadn’t even thought of? I hoisted the bags onto the deck of my friend’s home.

“Thank you,” Miss Gloria said. “We can take it from here.” She turned to the ladies. “Hayley offered to cook tonight so you don’t have to go out and face the restaurant scene when you’re so jetlagged. But first we’ll get you settled. I hope you’ll be comfortable in what used to be Hayley and Nathan’s bed. Though if she could cram a six-footer into that space along with a territorial cat, two little ladies should do just fine.”

“Cocktails in half an hour,” I said and headed back to my own houseboat to peel the shrimp and make a salad. I’d gone through a million recipes preparing for their visit. Key West pink shrimp was a no-brainer, but in what form? 

Miss Gloria nixed a few ideas as too spicy and possibly foreign sounding. “I don’t remember eating anything spicy in Scotland,” she’d said. In the end, we’d agreed on garlicky, buttery, Worcestershire-laced baked shrimp with lots of good bread from Old Town bakery to sop up the sauce.

With my prep work completed, I went out to the deck to look for signs of my dinner guests. I was expecting Miss Gloria and the ladies half an hour after I dropped them off. Maybe they'd all passed out and weren't in the mood for dinner at all. But her deck was empty except for T-bone and Sparky, so I popped over and tapped on the screen door. Inside, the three ladies were clustered around Miss Gloria’s police scanner. My friend looked up, a guilty expression on her face.

“Sorry luv,” said Bettina, looking from my friend to me. “Are we running late?"

PS Hallie persuaded me to watch my first-ever episode of the Great British Baking Show and having that in the back of my mind is helping me write my Scottish ladies. I still haven't quite decided why they are touring the US as guest bakers. Suggestions welcome!