Sneak Peeks - Romance Writers Weekly #lovewritechat

Many of the RWW members are working on stories we hope to publish in an anthology and a boxed set later this year.  J.J. Devine wants a sneak peak at our opening scene. If you've joined me from A.S. Fenichel's blog, welcome. What did you think of hers?

Here’s the first scene of “No Life But This” – my contribution to the Romance Writers Weekly Box Set.

Santos Carregado pulled the twelve passenger van into the taxi loading zone and set the parking brake. Grabbing the cardboard sign and crumpled sheets of paper his sister had thrust into his hand before he'd rushed out the door this morning, he strode into Arrivals. A scattering of people milled about, no one going anywhere fast. To his right the building stretched, long and narrow, toward the Departure area. Muted sunshine fell through the glass ceiling two stories above. A sparrow, seemingly at home in the echoing space, swooped and swept, landing on a precarious edge along the outer wall. Santos took a seat on a log hollowed out into a bench.

A few minutes later, passengers started straggling through the set of doors leading from the baggage claim carousels. A young man wearing shorts, hiking sandals and carrying a large backpack with a multitude of straps strode out. A family of four followed, the father dragging a baggage trolley piled impossibly high with suitcases, a child's car seat and a stroller, the mother carrying her red-eyed, weeping son and holding the hand of a little girl who skipped along cheerfully. Santos rose and moved toward the stream. He held the cardboard sign, green with yellow letters spelling out Ilha Verde Aventuras, at chest height, and waited. Before long, a couple approached, hesitant smiles on their faces.

"Mr. and Mrs. Beagle?" They nodded. "Santos Carregado. It's a pleasure to meet you."

The Beagles were robust and healthy looking, in their mid-forties, with the air of seasoned travellers. Each carried a small shoulder bag and dragged a compact wheeled suitcase. First appearances indicated the Beagles were the type of clients he liked best―organized, efficient and competent.

"It's lovely to be here." Tricia Beagle was petite, with close cropped honey blond hair. "We've been looking forward to this trip for months."

"I’ll do my best to make sure the wait was worth it." Santos looked over her head, scanning the crowd. Where was Abigail Garsson? "I'm expecting one other person from your flight, and then six more on another flight that should have landed directly after yours."

"No worries.” Richard Beagle scrubbed his fingers through thick dark hair going grey at the temples. “Do you mind if we wait outside? We’d love some fresh island air."

"Of course." Santos pointed. "If you head out those doors, you'll see the Ilha Verde Aventuras van right there."

The couple wandered off, and Santos turned back to the parade of people, just as a young woman backed her way through the doors.

She wore a long flowered skirt and a white t-shirt, with a sweater tied about her waist. A floppy straw hat hid her face as she struggled to pull an enormous wheeled suitcase. A small backpack with zippers and pockets and flaps and ties fell off her shoulder into the crook of her elbow, and the suitcase overbalanced, thudding to the ground. She crouched down to retrieve the handle.

Santos sighed.

He strode toward her, tucking the sign and papers under his arm. "Ms. Garsson?"

She straightened and peeped up at him from under the limp brim of her ridiculous hat. Wide eyes, the same light blue as the sweater knotted around her narrow waist, stared out at him from a pale, pointed face.

"Abigail Garsson?" he repeated.

She blinked and the tip of her tongue ran along her lower lip. She nodded.

"I'm Santos Carregado, from Ilha Verde Aventuras. Can I get that for you?"

Without waiting for an answer he took the handle. His fingers brushed hers and she jerked away. He smiled, hoping to reassure her, but she flushed and stepped back, reaching into her pocket and dragging out an asthma inhaler. Her cheeks hollowed out as she sucked the medication into her lungs.

He smothered another sigh. Unlike the Beagles, this woman looked lost, bewildered and muddled. If she couldn’t get out of the airport without help, how was she going to handle the adventures during the next week?

I'd love to hear what you think - let me know in the comments! Want to see what Kim Handysides is working on? Check it out here!