What Put the ANGEL OF THE L TRAIN in the Pine Barrens

     Last week I wrote about my experiences with the NYC subway system since one of the main settings for Angel of the L Train is New York City. However, the heroine of my book grew up in the Pine Barrens and returns there when her situation in New York gets out of hand.  
     I haven't lived in the Pine Barrens--so I can't call myself a Piney. But I live in New Jersey and find the Pine Barrens a unique part of the state which is very intriguing. It's also known as the Pinelands of New Jersey. The Pineland National Reserve encompasses 1.1 million acres of the southern portion of the state and is about 22% of New Jersey's land area. It’s bigger than Yosemite or Grand Canyon National Park. The sandy, arid soil is not good for standard crops but it is good for cranberries and blueberries. It is also home to a wide variety of animals. The ecosystem even includes some carnivorous plants. 😮

Batsto Mansion

     I've enjoyed some good times in the Pine Barrens. The Cranberry Festival in Chatsworth is fun. I've camped in the Pine Barrens and gone swimming in a cedar bog. I came out dripping red water, which was a bit disconcerting. Officially, it’s called “tea colored” water, but it sure looked red to me.

     I've visited Double Trouble State Park  and Batsto Village. Two of my daughters went to college at a campus located within the Pine Barrens. I've also been to Albert Music Hall many times to hear live country, bluegrass, and Pinelands music.

     Then there was the night I heard the Jersey Devil. What an eerie experience! My daughters were asleep, tucked into their sleeping bags inside the tent while I sat at the picnic table with our Coleman lantern, reading a book. Hubby had gone to take a shower. Suddenly, there was a horrible screech. The lantern went out and everything went quiet--even the crickets were silent. I was petrified and fumbled around attempting to find a flashlight. Fortunately, after a few minutes, hubby came strolling back and wondered why the lantern had gone dark and then he fixed it. It’s true I didn’t see anything, but I think that's just as well. I was already scared. 

    One of the strangest sights in the Pine Barrens is the pygmy pine forest--one of the only such forests in North America. The trees are very short. (You can read abut them here: https://www.onlyinyourstate.com/new-jersey/bet-you-didnt-know-quirky-find-nj/) 

Little House in Double Trouble State Park

   If you haven't been to the Pine Barrens, I reccommend taking some time to check it out. Then you'll understand why my heroine feels it's a great place to escape from her troubles in the big city.

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Deep in the Pine Barrens

Deep in the Pine Barrens

I finished writing Home Somewhere. I spent an inordinate amount of time fussing about the title and even asked friends on Facebook to help me. In the end, I decided to stick with the original idea. Now I have to write a blurb and a synopsis. Then I'll send it out and see if anyone wants to publish it.

It took me a longer than usual to complete this story. At one point, I went for a critique to help me fix the plot, which was going off in too many directions. In addition, I had plans to reissue Sea of Hope and Heaven's Blue, which I did but that was time away from writing. I also wrote Clear as Ice, my Christmas novella.

And, of course, life--as always--provided more distractions for me. But the book is complete with a beginning, a middle that doesn't sag, and an ending.

Part of the story is set in New York City and part of it is set in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey. Many people who do not live in New Jersey see only the Turnpike as they are passing through the state, which is unfortunate. New Jersey is more than beautiful beaches and oil refineries. The Pine Barrens is unique and important to the ecosystem. A large area of the Pinelands is protected. You can read about that HERE.

I've camped in the Pine Barrens and gone to the annual Cranberry Festival. I went swimming in the cedar water. I've heard the screech of the Jersey Devil. (Well, I think it was him.) So, I decided to include the Pine Barrens in Home Somewhere. 

At any rate, I am really happy I got to the end of the story. I hope I don't spend an inordinate amount of time wrangling with the blurb.

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A Scene from KISS OF BLARNEY

KISS OF BLARNEY is the story of Ula, an Irish princess, raised in a hidden location in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey. When her only companion, a druidess, is kidnapped by the evil druid, Balor, the princess must leave her secret cottage to seek help. And who better to help her locate the druidess than the Irish Wolfhound who just happens to be owned by the handsome man who saves her virtue at a pub?

Shay Devlin wants nothing to do with the beautiful Ula--especially not once he realizes she's out to steal his unruly dog, Bran--but there's no way he and his geise will allow him to turn her out into the snow, alone and unprotected. Too bad everything about the mysterious dog snatcher tempts him to break every rule of his sacred code.

Though their love is forbidden--for prophecy says Ula will marry a man with black eyes and Shay's are blue--they battle the druid who wants not only Ula, but the kingdom she is destined to rule.

In the scene below, Shay realizes he is cursed, but he thinks he can outwit fate.

Shay glanced around the garage. He did not see any snowshoes. Where had that woman put them? He checked a few places where she might have hidden them, but the snowshoes seemed to have vanished. Muttering a few curses, he rolled the snow thrower out of the garage.

A gusty wind bit at his skin but he hardly noticed. The audacity of that woman still had him reeling. Angry at his own body for reacting to her touch, he wanted to rid himself of the hormones she had stirred up. He intended to push the snow thrower and his body to the limits. He cursed himself for being so tenderhearted and bringing her home so she wouldn’t get into any more trouble.

Then he thought of her small waist, those delicate feet of hers, that fiery hair--the softness of her flesh when he had held her, the hint of violets that swirled about her, the tender valley between her breasts….

Bran whimpered and derailed Shay’s obsessive train of thought. That woman could send him to the psych ward. Glancing at his pet, he noted how miserable the animal appeared.

“You’re supposed to be a courageous dog. I’m wanting to see you laugh at the weather.”

Bran whined.

“I’ll not have a wimpy dog,” Shay complained. “Or one that lets crazy women steal them away.”

Bran hung his head in utter wretchedness.

“Serves you right for falling in love with her,” Shay chastised the dog. “Do you think it’s going to be fun hunting in this weather? And what is she hunting for? Have you asked her that?”

He should have asked her. No. He should have run in the other direction.

He should have listened to the geise. It made a lot of sense not to bring a woman into the house. Right now, Ula could be helping herself to….

He stopped to think a moment. She seemed inordinately interested in his appliances, but aside from
those work-saving devices he did not own anything worth stealing--except for his tools and his dog--and his truck. Judging from the fiasco in the pub, she did not have a license. Odd.

Shay cranked the knob so that the chute would throw the snow to the right side of the driveway. Then he yanked on the cord to start the snow thrower. Nothing happened. Swearing, he gave it another pull, but the engine refused to turn over. It had gas in it. It had been working last week. It had a brand new spark plug in it. There should not be anything wrong with it.

In a fury, he pulled again on the cord—and again until his arm burned from the exertion.

“Dammit!” He cursed as he rolled the snow thrower back into the garage and got out a snow shovel. Still enraged, he pitched the shovel into the first snowdrift and the handle snapped in two.

Shay stared at it in disbelief. Bran let out a howl and the sound cut through Shay like a fine blade.

…misfortune and even death.

“I am cursed is it?” He asked his dog as he stumbled back against the wall of his house. “Doomed because I have broken one of my geise. Doomed because I won’t let her have my dog.”

Bran let out another howl and scratched at the door.

“You’d leave me here to my death?” he asked his pet. “After I’ve trained you, fed you, cared for you and paid so much money for the vet bills that I know he could not have purchased his Porsche without my business.”

Bran whined and scratched at the door once more.

Shay stared out at the solid white landscape and felt his heart sinking. Somehow, it did seem as if the geise was working against him. It did not make any sense, but there could be no other explanation. The damper should not have slammed shut. The snow thrower should be working. That snow shovel had a lifetime guarantee.

He brightened as an idea formed in his mind. Opening the door of the garage for Bran he decided that anything was worth a try under the circumstances. He did not need any more broken dampers, non-working snow throwers, or broken snow shovels. He would end the curse of this geise the way he had handled the other one last night--in a devious manner.