But Skelbrae seems intent on reminding him he’s flesh and blood. Every time he nearly loses his footing on a bit of shale, a grassy tangle, a jutting stone, he has to drop it into lower gear, just to keep from going ass up.
Kenzo would love that.
Disposable, he called them.
Midlist.
Jaxon picks up his pace. He’s not midlist. He refuses to be midlist. And even if he is at this moment, well, there’s a difference between people passingthrough(because their publisher didn’t put enough money behind their books, didn’t even have the decency to let them complete their vision so their readers had something to champion) and those who seem resigned—content even—to spend their lives there.
Honestly, Jaxon should win this competition just to spite his old publisher. Rub it in their faces. Show them they were wrong. Then they’d beg him to come back and finish the Lightspeed Saga. He’d consider it—for the readers’ sake, of course, not theirs. Unless Merriweather offered to take over the whole series, republish the first two, maybe even rebrand them, with fancy covers and a real marketing plan, a proper lead-up to the third and final book. Which they’d do right by. If he won.
He probablycouldwin, given who he’s up against.
Malcolm and Sienna have the advantage of teamwork, but they’re clearly going through something.
Priscilla seems clever, and he has a soft spot for romance writers, not just because they’re kinky but because, like sci-fi, they tend to get short shrift. But as far as genres go, romance is about as far from thriller as you can get. Other than YA, and Millie—well, she’s cute, but she doesn’t have the chops. Same goes for Cate.
That leaves the high and mighty horror writer, Kenzo.
But Jaxon’ll be damned if he loses to a guy ironically wearing a vintage AC/DC shirt.
He could win.
The trouble is, he hasn’t read any of Fletch’s books.
He did watch the show, and it had some good action, decent twists—hesaw them coming, but the average viewer probably wouldn’t. The lead actress would have been great as Melee in the adaptation of the Lightspeed Saga, if it ever happened.
Which it probably won’t now.
He doesn’t know if it’s the reminder, or the fact he’s on his fourth loop, but his side suddenly cramps. He slows to a stop and tries to stretch, sweat making his shirt cling to his torso.
He looks around.
He’s on the far side of the island, the tip of the castle jutting up over the hills.
He should go back. Go back, and sit down, and start reading Fletch’s manuscript. But the sun is warm, and the air is cool, and he decides to check out that little beach he spotted on the first loop, the slope leading toward the sandy alcove.
On the way, he passes the rickety stairs, the ones that plunge down before twisting out of sight. He leans out, trying to see where they lead, but when his foot lands on the first step, it groans ominously, and curiosity be damned, he’s not going out like that.
He carries on, shoes sliding on the grass as he makes his way down the embankment to the little beach. Up close, it’s even better. A flawless curve of sand, giving way to calm blue sea. Jaxon wishes he had his phone so he could take a selfie. He’s already trying to come up with a caption—something contemplative but suggestive, like he has something to share, but isn’t ready yet—when he reminds himself there’s no point.
He sighs, kicks off his shoes, and stares out at the water.
The tide rolls in with a whisper.
It goes out with a sigh.
He feels his heart slow to match the rhythm, and it’s so quiet, so peaceful. It makes him feel small, but in a good way, the way the sky does on clear nights back in Texas. Looking out at the water, it’s hard to believe the old man drowned in a place like this.
Maybe the weather was bad.
Maybe the waves were rough.
Maybe he hit his head, or his heart gave out.
What a shitty way to go, thinks Jaxon. All that work, the finish line in sight, and—bam. Lights out. And people say everything happens for a reason, but it feels wrong, cruel, for someone to work so hard, for so long, only to have the universe declare, Not you, not this, take everything away and—
Nope. Jaxon shakes his head.
