Goodbye Lie Excerpt- FL House

The Florida House on S. 3rd St. on Amelia Island, FL

Readers often ask me about specific places in my historical Goodbye Lie series, set in Fernandina on Amelia Island, Florida. They want to know what is real and what comes from my imagination. So I did a walk about and took some photos. The Florida House is one such structure that is standing today.  Originally built as a boarding house for railroad workers in 1857, it is the longest running tourist hotel in the state.  

looking at the two story Florida House from the back courtyard

At book signings downtown here, I often point to 3rd Street and tell folks to walk to the Florida House, just a block off our historic Centre Street. I direct them to go inside and through to the back courtyard.  I have set several scenes there amongst the live oaks and pretty fretwork of the place. In the bar, in the front of the hotel, things happen.  Let's just say they are "less than friendly."  Hey, it's a bar, isn't it?

Here is an excerpt from The Goodbye Lie featuring The Florida House. The year is 1882. -

What awaits Breelan Dunnigan up those stairs?

Chapter 18

      The drive from Dunnigan Manor to the Florida House seemed especially slow despite the brisk tempo of the horse's trot. Not a word passed between the young couple. Breelan was silent in case her tears would anger him further, and he for fear she'd continue crying ...

      Despite the darkness, he was well aware of her secret attempts to wipe away the evidence of her unhappiness. He could feel her hushed sobs vibrate the carriage. What the hell was she blubbering for? He was the one who'd been tricked... He steered the buggy along side the hotel's granite stepping-stone. Helping Breelan out, he warned, "Enough of this. I won't have it. Do you hear?"

     She nodded. He was right. She straightened her skirts and inhaled a deep breath of cool river air, while he threw coins to the attendant, directing him to return the horse and carriage to the stable for the night. They climbed the steps of the long, two-story establishment and entered ...  

the trunk of an ancient live oak tree

     Breelan loved to come to the Florida House. She'd never actually stayed in any of the rooms before this, but her family oft-times ate in the dining room after Sunday morning mass at St. Michael's. Railroad folk as well as sailors, vacationers and locals all frequented it. How often had she climbed the old live oak in the back while the grownups pontificated over coffee and dessert? Now she was one of those grownups ... 

    After registering and exchanging niceties with the desk clerk,  they were shown to a second story room. It was quite lovely. The wallpaper spoke of romance with tiny bouquets of pastel flowers and a matching coverlet on the canopied double bed. The window trappings of lace would merely filter the moonlight. It could be an enchanted place if the circumstances were right.

     "I will leave you to your unpacking, Breelan. I'll be downstairs in the tavern." He caught the look of concern she cast his way. "Don't worry. I'll take heed of my drink. I won't let you go unattended in such a pretty room as this," he said caustically. 

     He quietly closed the door behind him and she breathed a sigh of self-comfort. He was gone. She was free if but for a moment. He had mistaken her look for concern. It was not. In truth, she hoped he would imbibe to excess tonight and every night, so he would never be able to ...

     The hour grew late and he didn't return to the room. Worn out, Breelan was still wide-awake. Her mind darted madly from her family, to where she would live, to her job, to the gossip, to... The cacophony in her head was generously peppered with the words and features of Waite. There was his handsome face, his hair, his eyes, his lips. In part or as a whole, the likeness was exact. It teased and tempted her until wriggling among the tangled covers of the bed a minute longer would surely bring her more tears, those of hopeless frustration. She had to get out of the room, to feel the stirring of the breeze against her hot, flushed cheeks. 

     Concealing her nightdress beneath her cloak, she descended the rear stairs, intending to refresh herself in the rain barrel out back. She splashed the cool water on her cheeks. It trickled down to her elbows, tickling her to irrational giggles. She languished in the luxury of laughter. She hadn't laughed since, since when? She couldn't remember. Resting the heels of her hands on the edge of the barrel, she hung her head. "I wish this were the ocean. I'd put my toes in the water and let the cool waves creep up my ankles. I'd ..."

     "You'd what, Breelan?"

     She heard the resonant voice seek answers softly in her ear. She responded longingly, "Oh, Waite. You'll never know how I wish you were real and with me and able to tell me all the things I want to hear. It will never happen for us. Never. I deserve to suffer... But to make you suffer, too. If what Nora says is true and you really love me, I can never forgive myself for causing you pain. I pray you find someone to fill your mind and bed. Don't waste your life pining for me, my love. If only that kiss I dreamed of on your ship had been real. If I could feel your lips touch mine, I could tolerate whatever comes. I ..."

     She dreamed he was behind her. He was grasping her shoulder, turning her quickly, pulling her against his unyielding body. She dreamed his arms were around her, holding her fast to him. Then his mouth was on hers, hard. His breath rasped from his lungs. She breathed him into her and tasted his soul. His essence was all male. Every thought she'd ever had of how superb his kiss would be was surpassed in this illusion. Thank God for her dreams. They belonged solely to her. The fear of hell would never take them from her. 

     "Bree, Bree," he said against her lips.     

    And she felt strong hands on her wrists. They pried her arms from around his neck, similarly opening her eyes to reality. It was no dream. Waite's glorious face was before her in the night and his eyes danced. Here in the dim moonlight, she could only stare at him. She placed her hands on his mildly whiskered cheeks, ran her slender finger the length of his scar and kissed it. He kissed her in return, taking her lips between his. He held her again and this time she rubbed against him, making him moan from somewhere deep within. 

     Glass shattered as a disagreement broke out in the bar. She didn't care. She didn't care about anything, but kissing him. Still, the insistent tinkling of the crystal continued to interrupt her pleasure. It was taking him from her. "Don't let me go. Please, don't ever let me go," she whimpered as he pushed her away and held her off.

     "Breelan. Breelan." He had again taken advantage of her. He knew it and for that too short moment, he didn't care. He was thinking only of himself. He would pay later. He tasted her on his lips, and she was finer than he'd remembered in all the nights he'd lain awake and all the times he'd walked the deck of the Comfort. He wanted her so badly. He wasn't sure his willpower would win a contest with his loosened desire ...  

     He shook her from her splendid stupor. "Bree, you've got to hear me. With all the craving a man can endure, I want you. Do you hear? Do you understand me? I want you. Finding that you feel the same brings me such joy, I can hardly ..." Waite was unable to finish his sentence. "Knowing the truth at last was worth all the hours of agony, all the uncertainty of guessing if you cared for me. I love you and realize you love me. You do love me, don't you? It isn't merely a physical attraction between us, is it? Tell me it's more." 

     "Waite Taylor, you've got to feel my love. It's so alive in me, I think I can reach in, grab hold of it, and show you. Believe me, believe I love you. And only you." She answered breathlessly, leaning into him, trying to make him hold her again.

     "Then, when I die, I'll be smiling."

*****
All novels in Jane Marie Malcolm's trilogy, The Goodbye Lie, Amelia Island's Velvet Undertow and Amelia Island's Mark of a Man are available as ebook and paperback at book sources everywhere.  Find online or just ask at your local bookstore.

Dog Sings Goodbye Lie Theme Song

After hours and hours of practice aka suffering on my part, our very own Abby, Chihuahua Extroverted, has completed her rendition of The Goodbye Lie theme song. (Amelia Island's Goodbye Lie trilogy is set in north Florida in the 1880s.) Thinking the harmonica might be the perfect period instrument to accompany this little ditty about the high seas sailor, Captain Waite Taylor, and the women who love him, Abby went through three tubes of bacon and squirrel flavored lip balm, so as not to chafe her kisser as she played.

Sit back and enjoy. 

You'll never hear anything like this!

 

Whale of a Male -Goodbye Lie's Waite Taylor

Meet or get reacquainted with Waite Taylor. Using descriptions and quotes taken directly from the pages of my historical novel, Amelia Island's THE GOODBYE LIE,  here is a profile of Waite, the male lead in the story set in 1882 Fernandina on Amelia Island, Florida.

Name:  Waite Montoya Taylor

Born: That face had seen many a scrap in its thirty-odd years, she guessed.

Parents: ...the sole child of a Venezuelan heiress, Carla Montoya, and an English seaman, Kenneth Waite Taylor.

Height:  He was easily a head taller than she.

Eyes:  Breelan looked into his deep black eyes. She had to speak for fear she'd tumble into their depths in the silent moment that followed.

Hair: The dark hair was full, damp, and wickedly wild from the weather, yet it suited him.

His Physique: The broad shoulders of a man lying on top of her were blocking her line of sight.

...how graceful his movement for a man of his size.

 A strong arm caught her round her waist.

His Scent: He smelled of leather and bay rum cologne. He smelled good. 

Facial Features:  The moon escaped from its cloud captors to better light his face. It was a smooth face, no beard, no moustache. The skin looked dark, like that of someone who loved the out of doors...
 His jaw was so square, ... the line of it broken only by the cleft in his chin. His nose was surprisingly straight, considering the small uneven scars he wore at his hairline, across his right cheek and on his neck, just below his right ear.

Occupation: Waite Taylor, captain of that passenger liner... His father ... was killed when his vessel was rammed broadside by a sinking Federal supply ship. They say that since that time, his son vowed to have a career at sea, no matter what manner of ship he served on, in honor of the man who'd shown him the wonder of the waters.

Character:  Strange. Miss Ella would even trust this man alone with her daughter. She was certain he would never physically harm her girl.

"I would say you were a man who'd experienced much in life and one who is probably capable of handling most any situation." 

He was certainly old enough to be married. His days of running after different girls should be over unless he was a widower or a philanderer. Yes, she'd known him long enough to classify him as a philanderer, snagging every fast trick his barbaric bulk craved.

Military Service:  " He joined the Confederate Army at sixteen. I understand his father wanted him by his side to fight the Yankees at sea, but Taylor chose to stand with the lads from his class on land. He served with the Third Florida in the Battle of Olustee.  ... he received a battlefield commission raising his rank to lieutenant.

Checking a nearby line, a young crewman interjected innocently, "Ah, go on, Cap'n. Tell the good folks how they give ya a medal for valor on the battlefield so's they can rest easy." 

 History: "He was raised in the Florida Keys and sailed the Caribbean with his father until his mother's passing when he was fourteen.  After the war, he earned his shipmaster's license and eventually became the youngest captain in the history of the transatlantic shipping company, Atlantic Eagle Cargo Lines. For a dozen years he commanded a regular run between Baltimore and South Hampton, England, delivering lumber, turpentine, cotton and phosphate. I understand he wanted a change, so built his passenger ship, Gentle Comfort, named in memory of his beloved mother, and he's been running the Comfort along the eastern shore of the United States ever since."

His Quote:  "Just to be in her town was an ordeal, but I had to take control. I had to face things. When we arrived yesterday in Fernandina, all my resolve left me. That's why I stayed aboard. I wasn't just reading. The truth is I was studying, investigating where she comes from, trying to get closer to her somehow. The more knowledge I acquired about her background, the worse I wanted her. So I purposely started drinking last night until I passed out. With enough liquor in me, I knew she'd be safe from the wild man who wanted to pound on her door in the middle of the night and take her away for himself.
     "This morning, with damn near the worst hangover I've ever had as a reminder of my determination [to stay away], I was prepared to be strong and leave town without ever attempting to see her. I was counting the minutes until we pulled out, until I escaped Amelia Island. You can't know how shocked I was when she arrived at the foot of the dock, her father handing her over to me! It was her uncle, Clabe Duffy, who corresponded with me. I didn't know the name. I swear to God, I had no earthly idea she was one of the girls I was to watch over. Now she's here, aboard my ship, and so is temptation."