I, Effing Feline, am suffering from a horrible case of stomach woes after eating several — eight, actually — cans of salmon in quick succession. I’m taking a quick break from the litter box to turn today’s blog post over to my pet human, Ed.
Ed here, folks. I have some questions for you, relating to my upcoming novel, The Saint of Quarantine Island.
- How far would you go to turn yourself into a better writer?
- What if there was a disease that offer a chance of increasing your creativity . . . would you take that chance, and expose yourself to the disease?
- What if the disease was incurable? And it meant lifetime exile to a quarantine island? And it messed with your mind, driving you periodically crazy?
- Would you still do it?
Spurred by her husband’s infidelity, our heroine, Janet Davis, says YES to all of the above. She’s approaching the quarantine after bribing a supply boat driver to smuggle her onto the island. She arrives just in time to see Billy Seaweed leap off a cliff.
For several seconds, Janet watched the figure standing there atop the cliff. Then she turned to the driver and immediately looked away because he was staring at her and shaking his head. If they made love, he’d beg her afterward not to go to Gilford, to come away with him instead so he could keep her safe and protected.
Up ahead, the orange-clad figure plunged off the cliff.
Janet gasped. The driver swore and gunned the boat’s engine to a roar.
A professional stunt man might survive such a jump . . . but a normal human being? Had she really seen what she’d seen? A glance at the driver’s grim, squinting eyes confirmed the worst; the reality of death invaded her like saltwater into the jumper’s lungs.
“Please, lady, let me take you back. You don’t want to die like that crazy nut, eh?”
Effing Feline here again. If I were Janet, I’d let the driver take me back to —
Uh oh! Time for a sprint to the litter box — sorry!
The Saint of Quarantine Island
Maybe you’ve read about viruses that turn people into zombies. But how about a virus that turns people into madmen, some of whom become creative geniuses?
Spurred by her husband’s infidelity, a suburban housewife smuggles herself into a wilderness quarantine to catch the new disease. She’s hoping to redeem her empty life by writing a great book . . . and maybe, just maybe, find love with the man called the Saint of Gilford Island. She’d once spent a memorable, though oddly chaste, night with him. Surely he’ll help her.
But a lifetime’s exile on an island of madmen — pirates, a suicidal Indian boy, an arrogant Cambridge scientist, a licentious cult leader, all of them periodically insane then sane and back again — is crueler than any suburban daydream. To survive, she’ll need to adapt.
Adapt how, though? Even if she wins the saint’s love, nothing in her life — or anyone’s life, ever – could possibly prepare her for the unpredictable society these creative madmen have built.
The Saint of Quarantine Island escapes from its pre-sale quarantine on July 1, 2020. Until then, it’s available at a special reduced price. Don’t wait — the price will be rising as surely as Billy Seaweed’s mania.