Lately I've been reading over the novel I wrote a couple of years ago: the one that is still sitting unpublished because I can't seem to reach the point where I'm officially "finished" with it. Everytime I read it, I make subtle changes. Then I go back and change things back. Obsessive much? Yep.
Anyway, this is the prologue. Maybe if I see it this way I'll start getting into the mood to let it go. We'll see.
Prologue
June 1, 2005LeAnn Blankenship sang along with James Taylor as she piloted her Subaru Forester through the light, early morning traffic. Her commute was exactly 1.8 miles from the little townhouse on the waterfront that she shared with her husband to her bakery and pastry shop in a quaintly refurbished area of Bremerton, Washington. Just a ferry ride across the Puget Sound was Seattle, which was where her husband Brady worked as a web designer.
This day in early June promised to be beautiful: sunny and a forecasted high of seventy degrees. The rain of winter and spring was gone and the gorgeous days of summer were blooming. LeAnn loved the summer months in Washington. It was generally sunny and warm, though not the atrocious, meltingly hot temperatures from her childhood in central Oklahoma.
She flicked on her turn signal and pulled neatly into the parking lot for her shop. Sweet Nothings was her pride and joy. She’d opened the bakery four years ago at the age of twenty-five and had steadily grown a clientele who coveted her seasonal pies and double chocolate muffins. The week before she’d filled an order for 100 muffins, purchased by a local church and shipped to soldiers serving in Iraq.
LeAnn parked in front of Sweet Nothings and cut the engine. She grabbed a tube of lipstick from her purse and quickly swabbed on a glossy shine before gathering up her things and levering herself from the vehicle with only the tiniest of groans. She was thirty-seven weeks pregnant with a full, round tummy that merely exaggerated her petite size. Just over five feet tall, LeAnn had straight, blond hair that fell to her shoulders. This morning it was swept up and away from her face into a loose ponytail. Her hazel eyes were tastefully accented with muted shades. The uniform for the day was a pink pair of cropped maternity pants and a sleeveless, white eyelet maternity blouse which contrasted nicely with the lovely shade of bronze on her arms. A lightweight, hooded grey sweater fought off the early morning chill.
LeAnn walked across the empty parking lot. The sky had not yet begun to hint at summer’s early sunrise; time to start the pastries, muffins, and croissants that flew out of the shop each morning as commuters stopped in for breakfast.
LeAnn juggled her keys, purse, and a manila folder full of notes for a new recipe as she opened the door to her shop, punching in the appropriate code to disable the security alarm. She walked through the store, flicking on the lights and pressing the button on the sound system remote. The melodic sounds of Alison Krause and Union Station warmed the atmosphere.
Suddenly LeAnn realized she’d left her drink in the car. She unapologetically admitted her addiction to Dr. Pepper. The combination of sugar and caffeine in her soda was the one thing she refused to forgo, even while pregnant. Dr. Pepper was her replacement for coffee each and every morning. Never acquiring the taste for Seattle’s drink of choice made her stand out in a crowd in this part of the country where coffee carts could be found on every street corner.
LeAnn grabbed her keys and started back to her car. She was halfway across the parking lot when she noticed a dark sedan swerving all over the road that ran in front of Sweet Nothings. The beams of the headlights danced drunkenly across the pavement. She watched in horror as the sedan abruptly lurched off of the road, bounced over the curb, and came toward her at a high rate of speed. Mouth open in a silent scream, she turned to run back into her shop. She wasn’t fast enough. Before she felt the impact of the bumper she wrapped both arms around her protruding stomach, curling herself into a protective shell over her unborn baby.
Minutes later, LeAnn’s part-time assistant drove into the parking lot. She found LeAnn lying motionless on the gravel parking lot, the ground beneath her turning black with blood.
