bonus material: three-dimensional · pdf filevelopment progressed naturally over the course of...

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BONUS MATERIAL:THREE-DIMENSIONAL

EXAMPLE

IntroductionExample:

B OUND SPIRIT S ,

B O OK 1 : BLO ODMO ON C OVE SPIRIT S SERIES by Karen Wiesner

2 BRING YOUR FICTION TO LIFE

INTRODUCTION

The example included in this bonus material uses all the three-dimen-sional aids presented in Bring Your Fiction to Life, including the Three-Dimensional Character, Plot, and Setting Sketch Worksheet; the Three-Dimensional Scene Worksheet for the first handful of scenes in the book; the Three-Dimensional Back Cover Blurb Breakdown; the P/P/F Dimension Development Chart (again, with scenes from the beginning of the book); as well as an excerpt directly from the published novel to see how these dimensions were brought to life.

The example provided is long and detailed, even though it’s not the whole book. The reason for this is because I needed to make sense of the story presented, and something much shorter might have confused readers. The order presented was also specifically done in an effort to be logical. This example hits the major points. When analyzed in this manner, you should see how you can all but eliminate the guesswork involved in ensuring three-dimensionality in a book.

I want to reiterate that it would have been more than a little incon-venient to attempt this with a book from another author, since I obvi-ously could only speculate on what the author did to produce his book throughout every stage of the writing process. I can’t make up material to fit into each item on the aid sheets. I know my own work, my charac-ters, and everything about the story; so I was able to fill out the detailed information with ease. Also, I have complete access to my own work and didn’t need to secure permission for the in-depth use.

Keep in mind what I said before: I used direct quotes (including in-trospection, internal and external dialogue, etc.) from the book here in my attempt to “work backwards” in filling out these worksheets. The direct quotes from the text are placed within quotation marks, so when you see them displayed this way, this is the reason for it. In some ar-eas, I simply summarized parts of the novel where that made the most sense. Clearly, as you’re filling out your own worksheets, you’ll be us-ing a different tone—summing up what you expect will be needed in each section and scene, just as I did with the simple examples included in nearly every chapter.

BONUS MATERIAL: THREE-DIMENSIONAL EXAMPLE 3

I have tried to condense this example as much as I possibly can, but it is, nevertheless, intense reading. When you finish, though, you should be able to visualize the first part of the story laid out with its distinct dimensions, and you’ll be able to appreciate how the dimensional de-velopment progressed naturally over the course of the opening scene and some of the bridge scenes. Needless to say, the example contains major spoilers. If you haven’t already read the book and want to, do so before you go over the example.

Finally, if you really want to see this done for an entire novel from start to finish, you can find these worksheets completed for all of Bound Spirits on my website. Click on the nonfiction button at www.karenwi-esner.com and, from there, find Bring Your Fiction to Life on the page that comes up. You’ll find a link to the full example with every single scene in Bound Spirits listed among the details of the title.

Three-Dimensional Character, Plot, and Setting Sketch Worksheet Example

Bound Spirits, Book 1: Bloodmoon Cove Spirits Series by Karen Wiesner

“Harrity Scaritty, on the mountain-side, in the realm of the dead, how will you escape, how will you be fed? With the living and the undead …” [Present, Past, and Future Dimensions]

Nestled on Lake Superior in northern Wisconsin is a small, secluded town called Bloodmoon Cove with volatile weather, suspicious folk … and newly awakened ghosts bent on revenge. Esmeralda “Esme” Du-mas comes to the town looking to find work surrounded by wide-open nature, [Present Dimension] and most of all looking for a place to hide. [Future Dimension]

Park ranger John Kotter has returned to his hometown [Present Dimension] after a decade away. He left Bloodmoon Cove under the cruel and mistaken accusations of the townspeople that he was to blame for the suicide of his girlfriend, a local daughter. [Past Dimen-sion] When his father goes missing on the mountain and is presumed dead, his mother asks him to come home and take over the family legacy. [Present Dimension] Generations of Kotter men, including


his great-great grandfather Harrity, have run Bloodmoon Cove Park, and John can’t help but remember how much he loved this place as a boy. [Past Dimension] When he finds the squatter in the campground host house, he can’t help wondering if she had anything to do with his father’s disappearance. [Future Dimension] John also senses Esme has ghosts of her own. [Present Dimension]

As a child, Esme was kidnapped and locked in a cold, dark base-ment. Her friends were rodents, insects, and the changeable terror that held her hostage. The only thing that kept her sane those nightmare years were her books. [Past Dimension] She’s been on the run since her escape a few months ago, [Present Dimension] never expecting to find another bound spirit come back to life. [Future Dimension]

CHARACTER: PRESENT SELF

Name: John Kotter

Character Role: Hero

Physical Descriptions: Six foot and muscular. Dark, wavy hair; a

rugged tan face; and lean, muscular frame that says he spends

a lot of time outdoors, even in the winter. Deeply green eyes,

like a sage leaf. “Those kind eyes had eased the panic that’d

been growing inside her.”

Personality Traits: Kind. Accepting. Generous. Sheltering.

Saves those who are threatened. Calming, unrushed, rational,

and gentle. He was raised to give people chances, help when-

ever he can. Like his parents, he lives on the principle that hos-

pitality starts with Hebrews 13:2: “Be sure to welcome strangers

into your homes. By doing this, some people have welcomed

angels as guests without even knowing it.”

His mother says of him: “John is an honorable man just like

his father. He won’t give up hope easily. He truly is a selfless be-

ing. He searched for more than a week before the sheriff gave

up trying to find his father’s body. He wouldn’t have given up

at all if that first winter blizzard hadn’t hit when it did last year.”

Strengths and Weaknesses: While all the men in his family mar-

ried late, John understands that he is different, that something

is wrong with him. Sometimes he wonders if he is capable of


falling in love or feeling anything but trapped by the relation-

ships he attempts. He’s been terrified of any woman becoming

too needy. He can’t even let himself be friends with a woman

because of the fear that one might get the wrong idea about

his intentions.

Relationships:

Parents: Mother, Natalia, a nurse at the small hospital in

Bloodmoon Cove. Father, David, former ranger at Bloodmoon

Cove Park; gone missing in September of the previous year,

presumed dead.

Other important family: Patrick, his grandfather and Twyla,

his cousin.

Friends: His father’s German Shepherd Robert. The county

sheriff—the only law enforcement in Bloodmoon Cove—Gra-

ham “Gray” Mecham.

Romantic interests: None currently.

Enemies: He’s alienated a lot of the people in Bloodmoon

Cove that he thought were his friends with the situation with

Cara-Marie Broucher before he left ten years ago. They blame

him for daring to consider a life away from their hometown,

something most of them would never do. Now that John is

back, the townspeople would rather hang him for his crimes

than welcome him back with open arms.

Skill Set:

Occupation: Law enforcement ranger at Bloodmoon Cove

Park.

Education: Bachelor’s degree, specializing in natural re-

sources, and he completed the Seasonal Law Enforcement

Training Program.

Hobbies: Reading

Interests: Orienteering.

Plots/Subplots for This Character:

Internal Conflicts: When John returns for his father’s funer-

al, thinking he’d only be there for a few days, he never considers

saying no when his mother asks him to come home permanently

and take over their family heritage. After a decade away, John is

back in Bloodmoon Cove, back to the life he’d spent his entire

childhood dreaming of until the dream turned sour and wrong.


His father’s death put him in charge of the park his family ran for generations. He can’t allow the family legacy to die.

External Conflicts: John’s dad “went missing” on the mountain. The backcountry permit he filled out stated he’d been heading toward Spirit Peak and would return by noon that day. He never did. After multiple searches, his body wasn’t found. John doesn’t believe, like the sheriff does, that his fa-ther tumbled from one of the many treacherous cliffs, possibly after a heart attack precipitated the fall. His father believed in the buddy system, yet he didn’t even take his faithful dog with him—and he never went anywhere without him. John has no idea what caused his father to go up there by himself, but he intends to find out as soon as spring comes.

Goals and Motivations: Coming back to the park where he grew up, his favorite place in the world when he was a kid, affects him. Being away, wrapping up his life in Arizona the past nine months, kept him from feeling the grief he was afraid to give in to. John suspects that without seeing his father’s body—without finding it so they could have some closure that he was truly gone—he’ll have as much trouble accepting his death as his mom does. When he finds the squatter in the host house of the campground, he wonders if Esme knows why his dad went up to Spirit Peak by himself, without his dog, last September.

Important Settings for This Character: Nestled on Lake Su-perior in northern Wisconsin is a small, secluded town called Bloodmoon Cove with volatile weather and suspicious folk. The townspeople believe the park and mountain are haunted. They all know things happened there, especially up on the mountain, that can’t be explained. The population hasn’t risen above four hundred in centuries. Those who remain are loyal and consider the town the only home they could ever know. In Bloodmoon Cove the population is so small, everyone truly does know ev-eryone else. Any new face draws attention and tongue wagging.

CHARACTER: PRESENT SELF

Name: Esme Dumas

Character Role: Heroine


Physical Descriptions: “Her dark blond hair had been raggedly

cut, pulled back in a messy ponytail away from her strangely

beautiful face. With no bangs, the way her hair framed her tiny

face made her seem more fragile and even whimsical. If she’d

told him she was really a fairy from some magical woods nearby,

he would have been hard-pressed to dispute her. Everything

about her fit that description. Her light brown eyes, so child-like

without a hint of makeup, nevertheless belonged to a grown

woman who clearly retained a semblance of innocence he’d

never seen before. He couldn’t help noticing how golden her

skin was in glimpses beneath the far too large clothing she wore.

Her strong, white teeth were framed by full lips that trembled

slightly. Her neck seemed almost too long and narrow for her

small, woman’s body. Who was this waif? Her abrupt vulner-

ability tugged at him. She seemed shy and unsure of herself,

even a little afraid.”

Personality Traits: “John found he wasn’t surprised to hear that

this woman was so keen on learning everything she could. If

she’d read all the boring files and manuals in the office multiple

times, she’d been serious about digesting the information, fil-

ing it in her brain whenever she’d need the information. He’d

met few people as interested and eager as Esme seemed to be

about what others might consider dry and boring. He couldn’t

help wondering if life had taught her to become hard and cyni-

cal. She’d obviously been afraid of him after she realized he

wasn’t his father. But she didn’t seem scared anymore—just

desperate to prove her worth here.”

Strengths and Weaknesses: Trusting someone, especially after

all she’s been through, isn’t easy for her. Yet, inexplicably, the

moment John Kotter appears in the upstairs bedroom of the

cabin she’s been secretly staying, she feels relieved and safe.

Believing him to be the tall, muscular park ranger who, in his

gentle, nonintimidating way, befriended her since she came to

the park, she trusts him implicitly.

Relationships: Parents: “I don’t know my parents. If I ever had them ...”

Other important family: None that she knows of.


Friends: Topaz, a fat orange and yellow tabby that a camper from the previous summer left behind. Robert, David, and John’s dog. A shoebox with two female mice and a lidded tote filled with a noisy swarm of crickets. Esme doesn’t like to be alone, even when the only friends to be had are bugs and rodents.

Romantic interests: None. “Meeting John made her think about things. That she’d never gone to college, never would. Would never get married, buy a house, have children ...”

Enemies: The Old Woman, the changeable terror who held her captive in her basement before Esme escaped.

Skill Set:Occupation: None.Education: Books.Hobbies: Reading.Interests: Nurturing life in animals.

Plots/Subplots for this Character:Internal Conflicts: “The fact that John hadn’t reacted with

anger at finding she’d invaded his family property after his fa-ther’s disappearance still made her shake her head in wonder. What kind of person was so accepting and generous? John had even offered her a job. He’d offered her exactly what she’d been praying for without hope for the last nine months.” She realized, having met John, that she’s never truly been alive before. She’s been existing, surviving, getting by. Love wasn’t an emotion Esme had been familiar with beyond the books she’d read, and she couldn’t have imagined what it would be like to love and be loved. “She’d longed for the sight of another human since the place had been deserted in the fall last year. Like his father, John seemed to care about people in a way she’d never expe-rienced. John had seemed concerned about her staying here alone, hiking the mountain by herself. She’d never had anyone care about her before until she’d come to this amazing place.”

External Conflicts: Esme has been in the park for more than a year. Even in the worst storms—whatever the season—she’s never heard the wind howl like it had the night before.

“The shrieking had been like all the demons in hell amassing at the border, intent on escape. Like the unearthly shrieks of the Old Woman when she became possessed and wanted to destroy me. ... Along with that shrieking, Esme had heard a


dog barking all night, too. Robert? But John had just come to the park that morning.”

Goals and Motivations: “John had welcomed her, given her a job and a place to live. She could stay openly. This was her dream come true. How often had she worried about what would happen when spring and summer rolled around? She’d survived in the woods most of last summer, but she’d worried she would be caught sooner or later. Someone would ask her to leave. Where could she go? I know nothing about who I am and where I come from. All I remember is the Old Woman, and then escaping her finally. But this place is my home and I never, ever want to leave it. What if the Old Woman finds me or some-one else finds me just like she warned me, and I’m sent back to that cage? I can’t run. I can’t talk. I can’t tell anyone. If I keep my secrets, maybe, just maybe, I can stay here.”

But she’s learned that trouble starts when people start ask-ing questions. She’s had to run many times because someone got curious and then suspicious. “Human beings didn’t seem to like mysteries. If you didn’t answer their questions, they be-came driven and even aggressive in satisfying their quest for ’the truth.’ For all of the life she could remember, she’d been locked in the cold darkness, forbidden from seeing the sun or any other living being besides the Old Woman. She would never let anyone lock her away from the world again. She’d rather die.”

Important Settings for This Character: “I can’t explain why Bloodmoon Cove is so familiar to me it’s like home in a way that can’t be possible. I knew as soon as I looked at a map after escaping the Old Woman that Bloodmoon Cove was the place I had to go. When I got here, I understood why. It felt right to be here. I actually believed I’d been here before.”

CHARACTER: PAST SELF

Name: John Kotter


Physical Descriptions: John shows Esme a picture of himself, looking incredibly young, with a girl about his age. “That’s me and Twyla when we were kids. She’s six years younger than I am, but that never made a difference between us.”


Personality Traits: “I wanted to see life outside of this place. Never left here as a kid, not even to visit relatives. I decided it was my chance to see the world while I got my education. Arizona was a place I’d read about all my life—their state and national parks—and I wanted to see it for myself. I admit I chose that place because it was where my aunt and uncle lived after they moved with Twyla.”

Strengths and Weaknesses: John dated Cara-Marie Broucher a handful of times as a teenager. He couldn’t detach himself from her, out of nowhere, seemingly. She wouldn’t let him. She didn’t want to hear she wasn’t the one for him, that he wanted a life away from here, away from her. He’d decided after high school graduation he would attend college in Arizona. He’d secretly worked hard on setting up a life for himself outside of Blood-moon Cove. Even his parents had been kept in the dark—out of necessity—until his last month of high school. He’d realized how they’d feel about him leaving and would try to stop him. Finally, he could no longer wait to make his departure known. Cara-Marie had made sure he paid for his unwillingness to com-mit himself to a life with her by committing suicide.

Relationships: Parents: David, father, presumed dead; Natalia, mother.Other important family: Patrick, grandfather. Twyla, his

cousin.Friends: His dog Robert, Sheriff Gray.Romantic interests: Cara-Marie Broucher. Additionally,

about a year before his dad disappeared, he met a park ranger who worked at Patagonia Lake State Park. “We went on a single date and she told me she’d been in a really bad relationship. She escaped it and never wanted to commit herself to another man. She wasn’t interested in one-night stands. So she wanted a monogamous, uncommitted relationship.” He’d had nothing to lose, beyond his own self-respect, and he’d ignored that easily enough most of the time in exchange for having his own needs met unconditionally.

Enemies: The whole town, but especially Larry and Ethel Broucher, Cara-Marie’s parents. “Their mutual, scathing expres-sions said they truly would never forgive him for the death of their daughter. Until the day they died and joined her wherever


she was, they would hold him accountable for her mental insta-bility and subsequent suicide ten years ago.”

Skill Set:Occupation: Worked seasonally for five years as a law en-

forcement ranger at the first national park that hired him out of college in Arizona.

Education: Bachelor’s degree, specializing in natural re-sources; he completed the Seasonal Law Enforcement Train-ing Program to become a full-time law enforcement ranger at Tumacacori National Historical Park. While the field wasn’t very open, he’d never had any trouble getting a job because he grew up in a park and he had more than just an education to back him.

Hobbies: Reading; his favorite book is Never Cry Wolf by Farley Mowat

Interests: When John was a boy, he knew how to read a compass—albeit an old-fashioned one without all the bells and whistles—yet no matter how many times he tried to find the clearing on Spirit Peak he and Twyla entered that one time, he wasn’t able to. He found it once and not since, even knowing exactly where it was supposed to be.

Plots/Subplots for This Character:Internal Conflicts: Ten years ago, John left home. “His in-

tention hadn’t been to abandon his parents and never see them again. More like I fully intended to abandon Bloodmoon Cove and the park I spent my life in ... loving. I wanted to leave to es-cape the censure of the town’s last memory of my selfish failure.”

External Conflicts: John was the happiest kid in the world growing up. “He and his cousin Twyla had been given free reign of the family park and campground. They’d gone everywhere, seen everything of their little piece of the world.”

Goals and Motivations: “When John was only seventeen, the tragedy that he’d never, ever considered could happen did happen with Cara-Marie’s suicide. His only recourse had seemed black-and-white to him. Leave Bloodmoon Cove and his dream of running the park the way his father, grandfather, great-grandfather and great-great-grandfather had done. Make a life for himself anywhere else because he couldn’t live here anymore, where everyone looked at him with blame, accusation, anger. So he’d left.”


Important Settings for This Character: John grew up “in a park

complete with a campground, living at the base of the most

majestic mountain he’d ever laid eyes on.” Folks didn’t leave

Bloodmoon Cove. They grew up, found employment (usually in

the family business), started a family, and life just went around

and around like a circle.

CHARACTER: PAST SELF

Name: Esme Dumas


Physical Descriptions: Dark blond, waist-length hair, long and

straight. Small and thin. Brown eyes.

Personality Traits: “I have more reason than most to consider

the supernatural. I’ve wondered non-specifically if the Old

Woman was possessed. If there was an evil spirit inside her.

Sometimes I believed she was someone ... something ... else. I

suppose because of those terrifying times I endured and some-

how survived at her clawed hands, I’m more inclined to believe

in ghosts and hauntings.”

Strengths and Weaknesses: After she escaped, she was so wor-

ried about spending the money she found. She hadn’t known

what a meal would cost and so assumed crazy things, like a bowl

of soup costing a hundred dollars. How would she survive once

the money was gone? That worry bothered her every minute of

every day. She vowed to never go hungry again, but she hadn’t

wanted to become a thief to honor her own vow.

Relationships:

Parents: None that she can remember.

Other important family: None.

Friends: As long as she could remember, Esme wanted

companionship from anyone or anything but the Old Woman.

She found crickets and mice in the basement where she’d been

held captive, and they’d become her friends.

Romantic interests: None, but “she’d been reading about

men and women in love for most of her life. The Old Woman

had brought her lots of romance novels, some that were classics


and some that were more modern. Esme had devoured them. Of all the reading material brought to her, those were her most favorite. The idea of giving herself to a man the way the women in those books had given themselves to the one they loved had fascinated her. A relationship like that, a love like that, made life worth living. To not be alone, to be touched, to be free to feel such pleasure ... that was so much more than simply having human contact. At the same time she was terrified of becoming attached to someone so she’d have trouble extricating herself later, deep down she knew the situation was everything she’d ever wanted.”

Enemies: The Old Woman, the only contact she had in the world. She hated her and yet sometimes she felt a strange joy at seeing her.

Skill Set:Occupation: None.Education: Books. “All Esme remembered was the dark,

being immersed in it most of the time. Sometimes the woman brought her candles and books. Esme had read until the can-dles had extinguished their precious light. She’d known of the world only through books. But the light had never lasted long enough. When she’d escaped, she’d taken a book of Wisconsin maps from the Old Woman’s isolated house miles from any other human inhabitation. She’d studied them obsessively as she made her way, searching for something—a place to go, to belong. Weeks after her escape, she’d come across a map of Erie County and she’d seen the town of Bloodmoon Cove listed. She couldn’t explain it, but she’d known that was the place she had to go. She’d moved quickly then, barely stopping in the towns and cities along the way.”

Hobbies: Reading.Interests: Nurturing life in animals.

Plots/Subplots for This Character:Internal Conflicts: “I don’t know why I came to Bloodmoon

Cove, but I knew instantly it was home. Because I’ve been here before? How? All I remember is the Old Woman and that basement. I didn’t exist before that. I have no memories of anything else. But ... why do I feel like I knew this girl Twyla, knew Bloodmoon Cove, in another life?”


External Conflicts: I found the Old Woman dead, or thought I did, and I panicked. I took everything I needed from her house, essentially pillaged it, because she owed me. Be-cause it was the only way I could escape.”

Goals and Motivations: “I had no choice about what I had to do. But would anyone else understand? The Old Woman told me over and over that if I ran, if I told anyone, she would make sure I’d be punished—that I’d be returned to my cage. She was a witch, possessed sometimes. I believe she could do unnatural things. I can’t shake the fear that—if I tell anyone about her, where I was and what she did to me there—some way, somehow, someday she will find me and send me back to that hell.”

Important Settings for This Character: The cold, dark base-ment she was held captive with the tiny bathroom and only a sink and toilet. No windows anywhere.

CHARACTER: FUTURE SELF

Name: John Kotter


Physical Descriptions: Same as Present

Personality Traits: Same as Present

Strengths and Weaknesses: “He’s too much like his father. Too noble. And everyone else suffers for it.”

Relationships: Parents: David, father, presumed dead; Natalia, mother.Other important family: Patrick, grandfather. Twyla, his

cousin.Friends: His dog Robert; Sheriff Gray. Romantic interests: Esme Dumas.Enemies: Anyone that threatened Esme.

Skill Set:Occupation: Law enforcement ranger at Bloodmoon Cove

Park.


Education: Bachelor’s degree, specializing in natural re-sources, and he completed the Seasonal Law Enforcement Train-ing Program to become a law enforcement ranger.

Hobbies: Same as Present.Interests: Same as Present.

Plots/Subplots for This Character:Internal Conflicts: “John could understand wanting things

to stay the way they were because, other than a ghost that seemed capable of killing real people, everything in his life was good—the way he’d only imagined it could be. He didn’t want that to change. And, just like she’d said, he wanted some guar-antee he’d never lose this woman he loved as easily as a butterfly flapped its wings.”

External Conflicts: John attempted to find the cave by him-self, to appease the ghost on his own. He was afraid for all of them and he knew enough that he couldn’t protect any of them against a supernatural ghost with powers he didn’t possess.

Goals and Motivations: “’The plan is insane. Suicidal. Something’ll go wrong. And then what? I’m not letting any of them put their lives in danger.’ The kid. Granddad or his best friend. My dog. Most of all, not Esme.”

Important Settings for This Character: Same as Present.

CHARACTER: FUTURE SELF

Name: Esme Dumas; real name Suzanna Monkholm.


Physical Descriptions: Twenty-one years old. Same as Present.

Personality Traits: “I can’t handle change. Change has never been good for me. My life is so perfect now. I don’t want any-thing to change. There’s no guarantee that life will get better if I make waves that might make my life change.”

Strengths and Weaknesses: Esme’s biological mother strug-gled with her illness all her life. She struggled with sin. In the end, she let both win. Esme was afraid she’d let the circumstances of her life sway her to do the same.


Relationships: Parents: Biological mother, Greta Schuler, who’d been hos-

pitalized and institutionalized most of her life with schizophrenia. She tried religion as a last resort to help her become normal. But the disorder took over again; Greta got pregnant and gave birth in an institution. The baby was taken from her by the state. An adoption that was supposed to be closed followed—an attempt to keep Greta from finding the child. Unfortunately, when her daughter was nine years old, Greta stole her from her adoptive parents and ran with her. The girl was so traumatized by this event, by her imprisonment in the basement and the woman’s psychotic episodes, that she lost her memory.

Other important family: Terry and Elaine Monkholm, her adoptive parents.

Friends: Monkholm and his wife brought Esme to the Bloodmoon Cove Park twice before she was kidnapped—the summers Esme was seven and eight. Apparently Esme had a good friend while she was there—Twyla.

Romantic interests: John Kotter.Enemies: Greta, her schizophrenic biological mother.

Skill Set:Occupation: Park ranger in training.Education: Online classes; EMT course.Hobbies: Same as Present.Interests: Same as Present.

Plots/Subplots for This Character:Internal Conflicts: If Esme inherited the same disorder her

biological mother suffered from, in a schizophrenia-induced rage, she may have killed those boys after she’d heard the story of Harrity Scaritty.

External Conflicts: Greta held Esme in captivity for twelve years. In March of last year, Greta required Esme’s adoptive father to pay up. After Greta was found dead, he went to check the drop-off. The money was still there. No one ever retrieved it. Mr. Monkholm had the police and a private detective looking for his daughter since she was kidnapped.

Goals and Motivations: Esme was afraid. To meet her fa-ther. To remember her old life. Afraid someone would try to take her away from here. From John.


Important Settings for This Character: Terry and Elaine

Monkholm, Esme’s adoptive parents, live in Erie County, not

far from Bloodmoon Cove.

Three-Dimensional Scene WorksheetNote that P/P/F Dimensions are threaded throughout the scene sections.

OPENING SETUP (PROLOGUE)

Setup (When): “Early May was a bad time of year to be hiking

on the mountain, though there were certainly worse times. Even

in May, a freak blizzard could descend out of the proverbial

clear blue sky. Today was a clear day, too. Not so much as a

snowflake in sight. Yeah, the snow got worse the higher up in

elevation they went, and the temperature dropped with every

step they took.”

Who: Troy Mulvaney.

Additional characters in scene: Sam Holt, Danny Yanzer, and

Roger Rowlee.

Where: Whoever named the counties in Wisconsin had named

Erie County appropriately, only they’d spelled it wrong. It

should have been called Eerie County. And Bloodmoon Cove,

a tiny town smack-dab in the middle of it, received the full con-

centration of eeriness.

Spirit Peak was the most remote high point outcropping on

Bloodmoon Mountain. There was a gorge near there that was,

most of the time, a dead zone, without coordinates. Sometimes

the gorge wanted to be found; it hid when it didn’t. No one

wanted to be around when that hellhole showed itself.

What: Twelve-year-old descendants of the men who killed

Harrity Kotter ascend Bloodmoon Mountain to discover for

themselves whether the legend of Harrity Scaritty and his

demon dog is true. Troy tells his best friends the true story

his father revealed to him this past weekend: “The legend of

Harrity Kotter is a hundred years old—not all that long ago. My

great-great-great granddad, Dennis Mulvaney, was alive when

Harrity Kotter was. All his life Harrity Kotter was a wuss and


somebody had to make sure he knew it. Dennis knew how to

take care of business—him and his pals. So easy to come up with

a reason to beat him silly most every day. Harrity just didn’t get

it, never changed or toughened up. Harrity’s family owned the

Bloodmoon Cove Park, and Harrity was one with nature there,

as park ranger. He took his German shepherd with him all the

time, wherever he went, and he named the mutt Charles. He

treated it like it was a real person, like a brother. That dog was

with him every second of every minute of every day of his life.

So Harrity gets married when he’s practically an old man, and

him and the wife have a son, and they all live together in the host

house at the campground at Bloodmoon Cove Park.

“Halloween night, Dennis and his buds got drunk and de-

cided to have some fun with the noble Charles. Wasn’t easy

luring the dog away from its master, but the sound of his dog

howling got Harrity out to the campground real quick. Dennis

and his friends tied the dog up between the trees. Harrity tried

to defend him, but one of the guys held him so he couldn’t

do anything to rescue Charles. Wouldn’t let Harrity look away

either. Dennis slit the dog open from one end to the other

with his hunting knife. Harrity started screaming, but Dennis

wasn’t done.

“He and his friends took Harrity up Bloodmoon Mountain

to a cave Dennis knew about. He’d found it during one of the

hiking trips the youth camp took in the summer. The entrance

to the cave was hidden behind a waterfall off some trail in the

gorge near Spirit Peak. Legend has it that this entrance leads

to the realm of the dead—the place where evil spirits live. The

Mino-Miskwi Native Americans found it first, long ago, and they

hid it with a man-made waterfall to cover it—to keep it sacred

ground for their rituals. Whenever they went back, they’d find

large and small animal bones and sometimes even human re-

mains at the entrance. Nothing lives or grows in that gorge.

There aren’t any birds or insects or flowers or plants anywhere

near it. No crickets chirping, no birds nesting or flying nearby,

no mosquitoes or gnats buzzing around. They threw Harrity into

the cave, then they blocked it up with rocks. When Dennis and

his friends sobered up the next day, they remembered what

they did but figured Harrity already escaped their little trap.

They waited to catch a glimpse of the dude for days afterward,


but they didn’t go back to the cave even when people were talking about where Harrity disappeared to.

“Nobody ever found the cave, and even a couple weeks later when Dennis went back, they couldn’t find that cave again, no matter how hard or where they looked. The Mino-Miskwi Indians say sometimes the cave wants to stay hidden. But, to this day, you can still hear Harrity shrieking and wailing and howling for miles around at night. You can hear him calling for his dog, grieving for it. The ghost dog roams the park and the mountain, defending its master’s remains. Bad blood up by that gorge, like the Mino-Miskwi say. As long as no one removes the rocks that block up that cave, as long as they don’t let Harrity out, he’ll stay with the dead, the undead, in the realm of evil spirits. Harrity’s ghost dog can pass freely through the stone, in and out of the cave, and bring his master food.”

Why: “At Spirit Peak, the entrance to the cave, the boys found the body of David Kotter, Bloodmoon Cove Park Ranger. They took his wallet so the sheriff could find it later. A face in the rocks blocked an obvious entrance into the cave. It looked petrified in the rock, grotesque and horrifying. A sad face with giant, demon-black eyes. Troy stepped forward and started pulling rocks away from the entrance with one hand, the other still holding his flashlight. Surprisingly, the three others helped him. They’d only gotten a few off when a sound like a scream of de-liverance, or vengeance, roared out of the small opening they’d made. The rocks they’d taken away had formed a kind of mouth in the creepy petrified face. A mouth opened wide to scream.”

Inside the tight passage to the entrance of the cave, Troy saw “the skeleton, half buried in the ground. Harrity Scaritty. Something white flashed in front of him and, just as abruptly, a dog started barking like mad. A salt-and-pepper German shepherd. Charles, defending its master, its brother.” Troy re-alized he was wedged in the opening. When he screamed for his friends to pull him out, he heard answering shouts growing in the distance. The other boys had run away and abandoned him to Harrity Scaritty and his demon ghost dog. Troy desperately tried to break free of the cave. “There was something building before him—a thick, black fog, ethereal and yet tangible. It filled up the space between Troy and the dog and formed itself into the terrifying face—closed eyes even bigger than Sam’s—


he’d seen in the rocks not long ago. Petrified, horrible. Sad. The

darkness emerged directly before him, the huge eyes opened,

and they were filled with black demon smoke and unearthly fire.

The mouth yawned wide directly in front of him, howling for re-

venge. There was evil in that face, in that ghostly shriek let loose

like a plague of locusts spit straight from the mouth of hell.”

Extending the Bridge Toward the Next Scene: “The demon

face rushed at Troy and he could feel it against him, tearing its

way against him, drilling into him as it tried to get free of the

hole he was wedged into. Pure evil. And I let it out. I freed it. Troy screamed ...”

SCENE 1

Connecting the Bridge to This Scene from the Last: John

Kotter drove toward his family legacy, Bloodmoon Cove Park,

at first light on May third. Despite the potential for bad weather,

John knew he couldn’t put this trip off. “No one had been here

since the camping season had ended abruptly last September,

when his father disappeared, presumed dead. John had ex-

pected to see the place a wreck. For almost nine months, no

one had been here to take care or ’winterize’ before the park

abruptly closed for the season.”

Who: John Kotter.

Additional characters in scene: Esme Dumas.

Where: “Weather conditions had always been volatile this close

to the base of the mountain. Bloodmoon Cove’s winter wouldn’t

end until, maybe, late June, and sometimes longer than that.”

The entrance station with huge panes of glass, a visitor’s

first stop into the park, came before the gatehouse. The only

other way in or out of the park was a service road that only

employees were allowed to use. Inside the strangely immacu-

late campground office, he pressed the button to automatically

open the gate barrier outside.

“He drove slowly through the campground first, marveling

at the condition of the park considering how long it’d been

neglected. His mom had specifically told him she hadn’t done

anything that wasn’t absolutely necessary. Someone had


been taking care of this place. For one thing, all the roads

were plowed. The campground house itself was another

surprise. The two-story German log and stone structure was

unusual with the logs exposed to the outside. John had always

found the place charming and a little creepy because of that

break from traditional German-built log-and-stone houses.

Something about it looked unfinished and even mismatched.

The symmetry was off somehow. The inside had everything

anyone could need, of course, and it was comfortable. But

someone had been here. The sidewalk leading up to the house

had been shoveled recently. Thick smoke wound its way out of

the chimney, mostly blown apart by the wind but still noticeable.

Long before winter, John and his dad had always prepared the

woodshed next to the house, filling it with wood that would

last them through the winter. Since their family lived at the

campground back then, they’d used the wood-burning stove

instead of electric heat that’d been installed by his grandfather.

His mom had moved into a small rental house in town with

Patrick after David went missing.”

“When John closed a hand around the doorknob to unlock

it with the key, the knob turned easily. Maybe his mother had

done little to close up the park, but she would have locked the

front door for sure. The house felt cozy and warm. And it looks lived in. Dishes in the drainer … from supper last night? Book—one of the old classics Mom and Dad love—next to the sofa in front of the wood-burning stove in the living room, where we used to gather at night and play board games. John nudged

open the door of the one bedroom that was downstairs. While

the bed was neatly made, there was the impression of a head on

one of the pillows. Someone had been sleeping here. He moved

out and entered the small bathroom with the free-standing

shower, toilet and sink. A towel hung next to the shower—it was

dry, as if waiting to be used. He opened the medicine cabinet

and saw a toothbrush, travel-sized toothpaste and lotion, a

comb, and feminine products. Okay, so the squatter is a woman. All ’mini’ items that could have come from the camp store. One

door on the second floor was open a crack, and Robert disap-

peared soundlessly into it after sniffing the hallway runner. John

didn’t have time to call him back. So much for sneaking up on this squatter.”


What: In the campground host house, he found a small woman huddled in the corner upstairs, hands over ears, shivering and singing an old hymn, obviously fatigued from doing so, under her breath. Seeing John, the woman jumped to her feet, threw herself into his arms and exclaimed, “You’re alive!” John won-dered who she was and who she thought he was. She tells him,

“Screaming was coming from the mountain where your father disappeared last night. The wind at the base of the mountain can sound like screaming. But this wouldn’t stop. It wasn’t like before, like other times. It was horrible. Evil ...”

“Just as lightning quick as she’d come at him before, the woman’s expression changed now and she fumbled for a mo-ment before she backed off with a flare gun held tightly before her—trained straight at his chest. She’d realized he wasn’t the park ranger David who was here before, though John looked like him. Before September, his father’s dog had lived his whole life in this park. He knew every square inch. He knew all the regulars who came here. Obviously he knew this woman ... and John’s dad had obviously known this squatter, too.”

Why: “John had come home to take over the park, fully expect-ing to have to hire someone to help him get the place back up to code. While his mom didn’t want the family park to close indefi-nitely any more than her elderly father-in-law, Patrick, did, she knew she couldn’t run the place herself. So many generations of Kotters had run the park. John’s father, David, had wanted him to be the next in line. When he’d come home for his father’s funeral recently thinking he’d only be there for a few days, John had never considered saying no when his mother asked him to come home permanently and take over their family heritage.”

“Even if John wanted to be mad at Esme for taking over the house like it was her own, he couldn’t get himself to be. While he knew nothing about her, she didn’t look the type to be bent on anything criminal.” When she told him her name, John remem-bered the open book downstairs and knew she pulled the name from it because she wasn’t ready to trust him. “She’d clearly been through a lot. Maybe she’d been in trouble and down on her luck and his father had befriended her.”

Extending the Bridge Toward the Next Scene: Esme goes on to tell John that she had no place to go, so, when everyone left


the park, she stayed. “I love this park. I know it by heart. I’ve ex-

plored the grounds and some of the mountain last summer—as

much as was possible on foot. I came last year. Summer. When

your dad was here with this dog. I camped out in the woods, and

your dad was nice to me. I never met him officially. I only know

his name because I heard people say it. He let me stay. Without

paying. I looked for him everywhere after he disappeared. I

didn’t want to believe he was dead. I wanted to believe he came

off the mountain and went home.

“I’ve been trying to fix things around here, maintain them

and take care of them. Keeping the roads clear was part of it. I

really wanted to make sure the place was well taken care of. I

realized how much I’d come to love this place. I can’t explain

it, but something about it feels familiar to me, like it’s home. I

thought if I took care of it, maybe nobody would mind. Please

don’t send me away.”

John realized that finding someone who loved this place as

much as he had when he was a kid wouldn’t be easy. Esme was

what the park needed. He had to get this place in shape for the

camping season in June, and she’d done a good job of keep-

ing it maintained so far. He offered her a job, getting the park

ready for campers, then, when the season started he’d need a

campground host. Though he couldn’t pay her much, she could

continue staying in the host house as part of her job. She agreed.

John intended to find out if she knew more than she was letting

on about his father’s disappearance.

SCENE 2

Connecting the Bridge to This Scene from the Last: John and

Esme left the freezing upstairs of the host house together. His

phone rang. Sheriff Gray Mecham was calling John to say the

youth camp not far from the park contacted him to report that a

kid was missing, Troy Mulvaney. Four of the boys got separated

from the group during a short hike yesterday afternoon. Three

of the boys returned to the youth camp and said they’d gone off

the trail, went for a hike up the mountain on their own.

Who: John.

Additional characters in scene: Esme.


Where: The youth camp had been a fixture in Bloodmoon Cove.

Not much of Bloodmoon Mountain was passable in May.

Without specialized equipment, the mountain was all but off

bounds in the dead of winter.

“There were a lot of legends, most of them spread by the lo-

cal Mino-Miskwi tribe, but John had never been able to dispute

them. There really was something unearthly strange about Spirit

Peak. He’d been over every inch of the mountain—mostly with

Twyla. Legend said there was a place in the gorge that had the

supernatural ability to hide but sometimes also to reveal itself.

John had seen it himself once. But when he’d searched for it

later, countless times, he hadn’t been able to find it again. He

hadn’t gotten a good look at the clearing—it’d been getting

dark and he’d known he and Twyla had to be off the mountain

before dusk. He only knew that he’d never forget the waterfall

and the total lack of life surrounding it. There hadn’t been so

much as a blade of grass or a pesky mosquito to be found. Both

he and his cousin had felt something not human in that place.”

“Bloodmoon Mountain was called a mountain, but it was just

a massive hill that had pretty much everything that you associ-

ate with a mountain: streams, dense vegetation, trees, peaks,

gorges, waterfalls, rolling hills, standing rocks, ridges, cliffs, and

a remote high point outcropping.”

What: Sheriff Mecham had gathered volunteers to help search

for the boy, but it’d be a big help if John went along since he

knew the area better than anybody. Could he meet them at

the youth camp in a half hour? John agreed, and Esme insisted

on going, too.

Why: Spirit Peak was a place where a lot of hikers had gone

missing over the years. Sometimes the bodies were found. Usu-

ally not. Esme didn’t like that place, which she’d hiked to. The

wind howled there like “all the demons in hell are amassing at

the border for a mass escape.” John was bothered that one of

the boys might be missing, and he suspected it happened near

Spirit Peak.

Extending the Bridge Toward the Next Scene: John had seen

“bigger, more impressive, steeper, sprawling, sloping mountains

with his own eyes. But Bloodmoon Mountain had captivated


him all his life. It was the most beautiful place in the world to

him, and he’d never been gladder to be home. This mountain

had haunted him for so long. Since his cousin Twyla, he hadn’t

truly shared it with anyone either. Until now.”

SCENE 3

Connecting the Bridge to This Scene from the Last: Esme

and John headed over to the youth camp to assist in the search

for the missing boy.

Who: Esme.

Additional characters in scene: John.

What: “Even though Esme believed John wouldn’t hurt her, she

couldn’t prevent herself from being afraid. He could give her

away. He could make her have to leave this place. One way or

another, he could hurt her. Why did she suspect that would be

worse than even the Old Woman’s need to hurt her?”

They arrived at the youth camp, and the sheriff and John

questioned Troy’s friends. Troy had told them that the legend of

Harrity Scaritty was true and he knew where to find his remains.

They found the cave behind the waterfall in a gorge near Spirit

Peak. Troy got stuck in the opening, Harrity’s ghost dog showed

up, and Troy started screaming. When his friends couldn’t get

him out, they ran back to get help. There was still a chance they

could find him.

Where: “In winter, it storms more than not around Bloodmoon

Cove, especially all the way up at the top of the mountain. It’s

dangerous to trust the weather. A blizzard could hit at any time.

The people living up at the top are completely isolated, so they

have to be self-sufficient. There are no roads up the mountain.

Only trails. You can cross the lake on deep ice, but to get up

there you need a snowmobile and snowtrack to make the trip

up the mountain. So far it hasn’t happened, but if anyone got

sick or injured during the winter, we might not hear about it

until spring. Electricity and phone cables aren’t exactly reliable

during bad weather.”

The youth Bible camp was run by Larry and Ethel Broucher.

“It’s been in their family for a long time. Unfortunately, if it’s


anything like when I was a kid, too many parents use the camp

as a free babysitting service on the weekends. Even with

volunteers, it’s not easy for the Brouchers to watch all the kids

that show up there at any given time.”

Why: John tells Esme the urban legend of Harrity Scaritty.

“Folks around here believe Bloodmoon Cove Park is haunted

by Harrity and his dog. They believe the whole mountain and

town are haunted, and not just by Harrity. The Mino-Miskwi

tribe practiced some dark magic back in those days. Maybe the

haunted legends of Erie County are part of the tourist appeal

in the summer. The legend goes that if anyone ever found the

cave and removed the rocks, they’d let Harrity’s vengeful spirit

out. Release him from the realms of evil to seek retribution for

what was done to his dog and to him. The kids chant, ’Harrity Scaritty, on the mountain-side, in the realm of the dead, how will you escape, how will you be fed? With the living and the undead.’ Legend is, Harrity’s dog makes sure he’s fed.”

Esme had heard a dog barking loudly—even over the howl

of the wind—last night. Nothing about that bark had been nor-

mal or natural. And the bloodcurdling screams, like someone

was trapped and in pain. She’d been terrified listening to it

because she’d felt deep down that something bad was trying

to break free. Something that wanted to kill, to take revenge.

Extending the Bridge Toward the Next Scene: Esme asked

John, “What if Troy found this hidden cave, a portal to an evil

place? What if he released Harrity’s spirit from the realm of the

undead?” John laughed at her, but she continued, “Don’t you

believe it’s possible for the body to live without the spirit and

vice versa? I do. It’s more than possible. With all your local leg-

ends, how can you claim you’ve never seen or heard anything

supernatural here?” What she’d heard last night had been noth-

ing short of supernatural.

SCENE 4

Connecting the Bridge to This Scene from the Last: “The

search group reached the place the boys had ditched the youth

camp leader Sunday afternoon, split into three separate groups,

then, four hours later, returned to the place of origin. None of


the groups had discovered anything, and John hadn’t expected

them to. The blizzard that had hit in the night effectively cov-

ered any sign of human activity on the mountain. Spirit Peak

showed a barren and desolate landscape blanketed in a shroud

of never-ending white. And, if such a thing existed, the gorge

with the waterfall hiding the cave made no appearance.”

Who: John.

Additional characters in scene: Esme.

What: The sky had continued to become blacker and more

threatening during the morning hours. Weather reports were

saying the storm wouldn’t hit until that night, but John suspect-

ed its fury would be unleashed much sooner. The one thing the

sheriff wouldn’t do was risk more lives, especially for what he

considered a hopeless cause, but he and his men and the dogs

would give it one more shot after lunch, and he asked John to

join them. They’d search a couple hours—do what they could

before the storm hit. Gentle yet bitterly realistic, the sheriff

concluded, “Likely as not, the boy’s body won’t be discovered

until this summer. He probably fell off some cliff or into a gorge,

like we suspect your dad did.”

John thought, Like my dad supposedly did ... but I can’t imagine. He knew this mountain better than anyone else in the world, except maybe his own father. Unless someone pushed Dad off the cliff—and that’s just as unlikely—he wouldn’t have met his end that way. A heart attack is more likely, though he took such good care of himself, even that’s questionable.

John had called his mother from the trail, before the whole

group reached the mountain and split up, and told her about

Esme. She seemed to know about the “elusive pixie fairy” be-

cause her husband mentioned her before he disappeared. He

said she was harmless, and fed her as often as he could. His fa-

ther believed she was down on her luck. John wondered silently

whether Esme could have been involved in his dad’s disappear-

ance somehow.

His mom agreed to pick up clothes and food for Esme in

Grimoire before heading out to the campground. Meanwhile,

he and Esme return to the host house until the sheriff and his

men get back from lunch.


Where: Grimoire, about forty-five miles away and one of the largest cities in Erie County, was the closest decent shopping in the area.

“The sheriff and his men headed into town for lunch at one of the only two places to eat in Bloodmoon Cove. While the diner’s menu offered homey, plentiful food, Cappy’s Cove (a tavern also on Main Street) was the place most of the citizens preferred despite the certainty of clogged arteries after a single meal.”

Why: John wondered what Esme was doing out there. She’d said she’d come here about a year ago. She’d hid in the park, sleeping in the woods. But why? Had she been on the run from something or someone? While his father had given her the ben-efit of the doubt by simply assuming she was down on her luck, John couldn’t help suspecting there was more to it. The fact that she’d made up a name for herself was suspicious. Yet he didn’t want to do anything to spook her and send her running again, if that was what she’d been doing before she arrived in Bloodmoon Cove.

He warned Esme that he’d called his mother and she was coming out. At Esme’s look of worry, he reassured her that his mother knew about her just as his father did. “She’ll mother you. It’s her way. You look like you could use some serious mothering, a few more solid meals and some human contact. You’ve been out there alone for a long time. People need people.”

Esme admitted she’d been alone all her life. She never knew what it was like to have human contact. She asked why his dad helped her, and John said, “He knew you weren’t there to get in trouble. Trust me, we get that kind all the time in parks. You learn to pick out the troublemakers and those who just genu-inely need help. If you’d asked him for help, he would’ve done a lot more for you, you know.”

Extending the Bridge Toward the Next Scene: Esme asked if John would return to the host house once he and the sheriff’s men search for Troy before the storm hits, and John realized she didn’t want to be alone anymore. He assured her he’d come back right after the search before returning to his mother’s house in town.


SCENE 5

Connecting the Bridge to This Scene from the Last: After John left with the sheriff’s posse, John’s mother broke out the cookies and cocoa, and they settled down to talk.

Who: Esme.

Additional characters in scene: Natalia, John’s mother.

Where: In all the time she’d been on the run, Esme had noticed that in big cities, a person could hide, unnoticed and virtually unseen. In a small town like Bloodmoon Cove, everyone knew everyone and they noticed strangers as if they were wearing neon. Trouble started when people started asking questions. She’d had to run many times because someone got curious and then suspicious. Human beings didn’t seem to like mysteries. If you didn’t answer their questions, they became driven and even aggressive in satisfying their quest for “the truth.”

What: This past winter, Esme had feared someone would find out she’d been living illegally at the campground. As much as she’d tried to be inconspicuous this morning during the search, she suspected people would be talking about her soon. Esme didn’t like holding back anything from people as kind and gen-erous as John and his mother, but she knew she couldn’t trust them completely. She’d have to be wary and on her guard.

Esme didn’t want to be here at the host house all alone, es-pecially after what had happened last night. The darkness had fallen, all the lights had gone out, and the unnatural barking had started. Her mice and crickets had fallen utterly silent. Then the violent shrieks had begun. I can’t go through that torment again another night. It went on endlessly, my terror growing with each one and the screams increasing in volume even over the winter storm. She’d done the only thing she’d ever known to do with fear like that. She’d run to hide, covered her ears, and started singing the one song she knew. How she’d come to know the melody and the words, she had no idea. But the song soothed her and, more importantly, it’d soothed the Old Woman.

Esme recalled the enormous relief she’d experienced at the sight of John this morning. She’d no longer been alone, and that was all she’d wanted in the world. I don’t want to be alone


tonight. Ever anymore. And now that I’ve been touched by a human being, touched by John, I don’t know how I’ll ever be the same. Already I feel like I could love John and his mother to unknowable degrees. I should simply be afraid of them and what they could tell others, but I can’t. John’s father was kind to me, but John touched me. John held me, gently and with comfort, when he didn’t know me as anyone but the squatter who took over his family’s cabin.

Why: Life had been so good since Esme escaped. Could she afford to trust John and Natalia? When Natalia promised that John would do what he could to “get around the paperwork” of her employment at the park, Esme became afraid.

Extending the Bridge Toward the Next Scene: For her own safety, Esme couldn’t forget the words the Old Woman had threatened her with: “Don’t run. Don’t talk. Don’t tell anyone. If you do, you’ll die. I’ve made sure of that.” I can’t take any chances. The first sign that anyone here wants to know about me, my past, of turning me over to the sheriff and revealing my secret, I’ll have to run. The mere thought made her want to cry.

SCENE 6

Connecting the Bridge to This Scene from the Last: John and the sheriff’s team had searched far longer than they should have and in places even John knew the boy couldn’t be. Until sum-mer thaw was in full force, searches for a dead body would be dangerous if not outright foolish. Even if John didn’t like giving up hope, he’d finally backed down last fall when Gray officially called off the search for his father because deep down he’d known he would be risking his own life when there was nothing to save. His dad was dead. The only thing left, when the weather became safer, would be to find his body. He could be searching for two bodies, Troy’s and his father’s. But John was reluctant to quit so soon. If Troy Mulvaney was alive, he’d never survive the blizzard headed their way.

John drove back to the campground host house, wanting to make sure Esme was tucked in with everything she’d need to withstand a blizzard that would be with them for the next couple days. His mother had gone overboard with enough groceries to


last for weeks, and he was glad about that. He also wanted to ensure his mom got back to town before the storm hit. Hope-fully he could do everything he needed to before then, too. When he arrived at the host house, his mother was heading out. She told him Esme was exhausted and went to bed.

Who: John.

Additional characters in scene: Natalia, Esme.

Where: He and his dog Robert blew into the host house kitchen on a vicious, ice and snow-flecked wind. The dog all but wiped his paws on the mat before making his way into the living room to lie down in front of the wood-burning stove. John sat on the bench of the farm table nearby so he could take off his boots before he tracked snow or mud through the house.

What: John asked his mother her medical opinion about Esme. “I suspect she’s an innocent young woman who’s been trauma-tized, maybe even abused. She’s on the run from whoever hurt her. I’ve seen my share of victims who’ve been through that kind of long-term torment. There are ghosts in that sweet girl’s eyes. It’ll take a lot of convincing to get her to stay here and trust us. At the first sign of trouble, she’ll try to run. It’s a miracle she’s stayed as long as she had. Something must be holding her here, some kind of comfort or peace. But that might not last much longer, now that she’s been discovered. You’ll have to be a step ahead of her and be waiting in case she does take off.”

Why: John barely knew Esme yet she’d already slipped past his ultrasensitive defenses. He wasn’t sure how she’d done it either. But he’d worried about her most of the time he was out this afternoon. He’d wondered who she was, why she was hiding out here in Bloodmoon Cove of all places, who or what had hurt her, why she looked so lost and scared and yet seemed so open and eager about life and getting every experience she could from it. Life had taught her hard lessons, too. He didn’t doubt that. Nevertheless, she didn’t seem afraid of finding out what else life had to offer her. She had both arms open, waiting to embrace the adventures that came her way. He marveled now; if she had been mistreated, how could she still be so innocent, even naïve


and untouched, when it came to evil and bad people with bad intentions? How could she have stayed so sweet?

His first memory of utter terror in Esme’s beautiful eyes just before she launched herself into his arms filled his mind. That’s how she slipped past my armor. She didn’t give me the chance to get my guard up. One minute she wasn’t there, and the next she was. Done deal. And now she’s inside. Instant, enormous protectiveness rose in him like an army ready for battle at a moment’s notice. He didn’t want to leave her out here alone. But he couldn’t make her any promises. He already knew where promises would lead. To me hurting her. Because the last time a woman foolishly invested her entire being in me and trusted me to do right by her, she killed herself rather than have to face a life without me. I can’t let that happen again. I won’t let it happen to Esme.

Extending the Bridge Toward the Next Scene: John decided he’d make his rounds to check the house, then he’d get out of there before the storm hit, before Esme could wake and rattle his vows right off the hinges he’d secured so tightly, he’d actu-ally believed nothing and no one could ever dislodge again.

SCENE 7

Connecting the Bridge to This Scene from the Last: Esme dreamed of her captivity. This had been her life for as long as she could remember. She had no recollections whatsoever of another life, another place, other people. In this place, the Old Woman fed her most days at least one, small meal; some days she sat and talked to her in a perfectly normal manner, but never, ever let her follow her up the staircase and out the door of the basement. For hours, Esme had wondered what was up there in the bright light. All she knew was that there was salvation on the other side of that painted wood door, and that the Old Woman didn’t want her to get to that place, ever. Always, the Old Woman frightened her. Even when she was trying to be nice, bringing her new books for her to read often, sometimes with candles, food, soap and toothpaste so she could clean herself in the sink, Esme had been terrified of her.

Once Esme had thought, “She takes care of me like a mother,” but that thought wasn’t a pleasant one. The woman


inspired fear, distrust, shudders of horror. Esme learned to be wary around her because she would turn sometimes. Without warning, some evil spirit would enter her, she’d become pos-sessed with fury, and she would scream and shriek her rage, scratching at Esme, pulling her hair, punching and kicking and biting. There was nothing Esme could do but run into the corner, to cower and huddle into herself, trying to escape the blows, and to cover her ears so she wouldn’t have to hear the aw-ful wailing. And then she would sing “Silent Night” very softly, without stopping because her singing was all that could calm the demon and turn the Old Woman back into the beseeching hag who wanted to be kind to her even if she couldn’t always control herself.

Who: Esme.

What: Esme hadn’t had nightmares about the Old Woman since those first few months after her escape from the basement. When the old horror rose again with the unnatural sound of the screaming wind last night, Esme had nightmares when she finally slept. She dreamed that the Old Woman’s face had be-come petrified wood, her huge dark eyes closed, her expres-sion sad. But then her eyes had opened to reveal black demon orbs and the mouth split open with the sound of ancient wood cracking. An ungodly scream filled the entire world, shaking the foundations and sending her fleeing to the corner, her hands over her ears.

With a start, Esme came awake. All around her, she heard the screaming wind slamming icy shards of snow against the house, berating the windows with its demonic fury. But the sound isn’t like last night. Still, I can’t stay in Bloodmoon Cove much longer. Before long, John and his wonderful mother would be asking questions, too many for her comfort, out of the good-ness of their hearts. But she had no answers she could give them. I killed the Old Woman. Because I found her dead, or thought I did, and I panicked. I took everything I needed from her house, essentially pillaged it, because she owed me. Because it was the only way I could escape. Would anyone else understand what I had to do? The Old Woman told me over and over that if I ran, if I told anyone, she would make sure I’d be punished—that I’d be returned to my cage. She was a witch, possessed sometimes.


I believe she could do unnatural things. I can’t shake the fear that—if I tell anyone about her, where I was, and what she did to me there—some way, somehow, someday she will find me and send me back to that hell.

When she’d fled to Bloodmoon Cove, she’d known she’d

come home. That had been enough—more than enough after

the cage she’d been in as long as she could remember. But until

she’d met John, she’d never experienced true warmth, life, and

she had no idea how she would survive without it now. There

was no way back to death after life. She knew the difference,

and a part of her realized she’d rather die than turn her back on

this newborn flame inside her. But how could she stay? If she

stayed, she risked the authorities checking up on her, maybe

finding out the truth of what she’d done to escape her hell. She

risked the black magic of the Old Woman snatching her back

into her poisonous maw. That would be death. If I’m alone, free in the world under the big sky, I can go on. I can find a way to survive without this beautiful flame.

Where: The basement Esme was held captive was cold, never

warm enough, and the candle wouldn’t last long enough to

fight the shivering chills that came over her when the darkness

descended. In this hollow space, she’d learned to navigate in the

dark. She knew where everything was. There were no windows,

and she could move from her small bed to the tiny bathroom

with only a sink and toilet on the other side of the room.

Why: She had to go before John returned. The blizzard was a

problem. Esme doubted it would blow over by morning. What

would she do then? Would John come back even if it was in full

force? She couldn’t see him again. Her determination to save

herself would wane at the mere sight of him. Instead of dying,

the newborn flame seemed to flare hotter at the hope that John

wouldn’t let her go, would search for her and demand that she

stay with him.

Extending the Bridge Toward the Next Scene: Even above the

howling storm, she could hear the distant sound of another dog

barking. All the hair on her body seemed to stand at attention

with the preternatural sound. The barking that preceded the unnatural screams last night. It’s starting. God, please, not again.


The hellish scream came, drowning out nature’s fury beating against the house. Someone, something was screaming and it was getting closer, so much closer than it’d been the night before. The windows rattled menacingly as the full force of the icy, snow-driven wind slammed into them. Esme dove into the nearest corner and put her hands over her ears, trying to block out the relentless sounds. Under her breath, she sang the song, panting raggedly in fear, not wanting to hear the demon wail-ing for revenge. There was nothing she wouldn’t have done to have John there with her. She’d never wanted anything more in her life. Blissful separation of her mind and body were all that saved her.

Only when a strong morning light filtered through the win-dows, battling against the storm to get through, did she get up on shaky legs. As numb as she felt, she couldn’t fight the facts. She couldn’t leave yet—not without risking her life. She’d fought too hard to escape death. She’d just have to be ready to flee when the weather let up. Had to steel herself against wanting all the wrong things. She packed the maps, her new clothes, the seemingly endless rolls of money she’d found in the Old Woman’s house.

SCENE 8

Connecting the Bridge to This Scene from the Last: John informed his mother the next morning that he planned to brave the blizzard, return to the park, and wait out the storm there in the host house with Esme.

Who: John.

Additional characters in scene: Natalia, Esme.

Where: At Natalia’s house, the kitchen window couldn’t be seen out of at all. The icy snow had slammed it with its unending wrath all night. The frost was thick and beautiful on the glass. Beyond it, they could still hear the blizzard in full force. There was no doubt about that.

Bloodmoon Cove had some of the worst unpredictable weather in the state. In the night, Esme had heard something far and beyond what she’d experienced before. Whether it really was a ghost accompanied by the hounds of hell, John couldn’t say. He didn’t like to talk about the weird stuff he’d experienced


in this town while growing up. Who did? Admitting to those

things and actually believing them was crazy. Until he had a

reason not to, he’d accept the logical explanation of the storm

making so much noise.

Even in his dad’s four-wheel-drive truck built for harsh win-

ters, the trip out to the park was pure stress. He’d chosen the

right time to be out, though. The snow had let up temporarily,

increasing visibility slightly, and the worst he had to battle were

unplowed roads that his heavy-duty winter tires, fortunately,

handled grudgingly. Once he made it to the host house, he

trekked back and forth three times from his truck to the porch,

battling the wind continuously until he got everything inside

the kitchen and pushed the door shut behind him against the

force of the blowing snow.

Bloodmoon Cove shuts down when there’s a bad storm,

especially for those people living up on the mountain. Nothing

gets in, nothing leaves until it blows over.

What: From the bedroom doorway inside the host house, John

saw Esme packing and he jolted. He informed her she wouldn’t

get a mile in this weather that wouldn’t let up for days. Didn’t

she say she wanted to stay here, work at the park? Esme pointed

out the paperwork—she couldn’t fill out any of that. John’s goal

was to pacify her any way he can. “I know you’re hiding from

something, maybe running from something. I’m not gonna try

to force the truth out of you. So maybe we can make a deal.

Instead of you getting a paycheck, you only volunteer here so

I’m not required to perform a background check. As a volunteer,

you can swap work for staying in the host house, which I’ll keep

stocked with the food, supplies, and clothing you need.”

Why: John knew this deal would only forestall the inevitability of

her leaving, but he cautioned her to wait out this storm and maybe

even put off leaving until late June, when a freak storm would be

less likely. Esme agreed to the deal, wondering what he wants in

return—this wasn’t much a deal for him. “Someday, if and when

you feel comfortable, you’ll tell me your real name and your story.”

Extending the Bridge Toward the Next Scene: Esme asked

John whether the fact that the storm wasn’t over meant he

wouldn’t be able to rescue that boy.


"I think those boys were scared. They abandoned their friend

and didn’t want to admit it. And I think I know where they left

him. Spirit Peak.”

When she asked whether he would go there, John admitted

it. But she let him know he wouldn’t be going alone: “You won’t

let me go there, anywhere on the mountain, without a hiking

buddy. So I’ll do the same for you. You need me. I’m going with

you,” she said.

SCENE 9

Connecting the Bridge to This Scene from the Last: While

they were making breakfast, John commented about how being

free was so important to Esme, yet she kept mice and crickets in

box prisons. Esme had never considered it that way. Yet he was

right. She hadn’t wanted the pets to go away so she couldn’t

find them, but now she knew she had to free them.

"You take good care of them,” John rushed to reassure her

“These boxes are their homes. If you do let them go, wait until

summer so they’ll survive. We’ll take them out to the woods

then.” John distracted her after that, talking about foods that

are aphrodisiacs, as they’re making homemade pizza.

Who: Esme.

Additional characters in scene: John.

What: John was an aphrodisiac to her. Not simply because he

was attractive in a way she’d never noticed a man could be

(she’d seen handsome men in magazines and books), but be-

cause none of them had ever made her feel something personal

the way John did. She wanted more. More of everything with

him and only him. She didn’t know why or what had changed.

She’d never willingly let another human being touch her before.

She wanted John to touch her.

They decided to spend the “snow day” eating and making

pizza and donuts, and playing board games. John agreed to

spend the night—on the foldout couch.

Where: John told Esme, “When I was a kid here at the park,

if it was raining really hard during the summer, we’d stay in

and play board games. Twyla was always here. She was here


more than she was at home with her parents. She had a room upstairs. Gran would whip up fresh bread dough, and we’d all make homemade donuts.”

They ate at a card table he pulled out of the living room closet and set up near the stove in the living room. In the back-ground, they listened to the staticky radio telling them about the terrible weather and road conditions, and warning them to stay inside. Esme felt cozy and warm with John sharing the house with her. While they ate aphrodisiac-loaded pepperoni pizza good enough to blow her mind and donuts that she un-derstood why he and Twyla had plowed through as they were being made, they played Battleship, Scrabble, and Monopoly. In the middle of the second game, the wind started up again and the windows rattled with the sound of scouring snow flying against them.

Why: In the back of her mind, Esme thought constantly about the fact that tonight she wouldn’t be alone. John would hear the horrible screaming and he would know just like she did that it wasn’t the wind. She believed “The screaming was Har-rity Kotter’s ghost. The ghost of your great-great grandfather. And the barking that precedes it is his dog. A ghost dog. Even though Harrity has been dead a hundred years, a body can live without its spirit, so why can’t a spirit live without its body? Maybe those boys killed your great-great grandfather’s body, but his spirit is alive, especially in that place, if your local Indian tribe believes it’s a sacred cave that leads to the realm of bound spirits. Those boys let him out. Troy did. He freed his spirit. And now he wants revenge.”

John refuted this. His grandpa talked about his dad as the most peaceful man alive. People compared Harrity to Johnny Appleseed. He loved nature. He respected human life.

Esme remained firm. “Things happen to bodies and spirits that have been bound in captivity. The mind gets twisted in only the darkness, trapped, no freedom, no fresh air.”

Harrity had a reason for wanting revenge on Dennis Mul-vaney and his offspring. Dennis murdered his dog in front of him, then tossed him in a cave and blocked him up in it to die. Killing a man’s dog like that could turn any gentle man into a vengeful one. Harrity’s dog was closer to him than a brother.


Extending the Bridge Toward the Next Scene: A wind more fierce than Esme had ever experienced blew the front door open with a crash that made them jump. John ran in that direc-tion while Esme followed close behind. The napkins on the table flew around as the blizzard entered the house with a stream of icy shards of snow. Robert ran to stand protectively in front of John, who was trying to see if someone was outside on the porch and had opened the door—the locked door. The dog was full-out barking now, and the sound mingled with the ghost dog’s snarls. With seemingly all his strength, John pushed the front door shut and locked it again. When he turned, his face was tense, and Esme murmured, “He’s arrived. Harrity Scaritty.”

You can find the rest of the scenes on my website at www.karenwi-esner.com.

P/P/F Dimension Development Chart

CHAPTER/SCENE #

POV CHARACTER

SCENE TITLE

PRESENT DIMENSION

PAST DIMENSION

FUTURE DIMENSION

Prologue Troy Mul-vaney

Harrity Scaritty in the Realm of the Dead

Twelve-year-old descendants of the men who killed Harrity Kotter ascend Blood-moon Mountain.

Troy and his friends intend to discover for themselves whether the 100-year-old legend of Har-rity Scaritty and his demon dog is true.

The ghost of Harrity Kot-ter and his demon dog are’ awak-ened with a vengeance …

Chapter 1, Scene 1

John Kotter You Can Go Home Again, Even if You’re Not Sure You Want to

John finds a squat-ter, Esme, in the house—some-one his father had known and allowed to stay rent free.

John left home 10 years ago, never intend-ing to return. Since his father’s disap-pearance the previous Sep-tember, there’s been no one to take care of Bloodmoon Cove Park, his family’s legacy.

John intends to find out if Esme knows more than she’s letting on about his father’s dis-appearance.

www.karenwiesner.com


Scene 2 John Troy Mul-vaney is Missing

The county sheriff calls John, telling him a boy from the youth camp went missing.

Troy and his friends went hiking up to Spirit Peak. His friends returned and they don’t know where Troy is.

They’re meet-ing at the youth camp in a half hour to search for Troy.

Scene 3 Esme Another Bound Spirit

John tells Esme the legend of his ancestor Harrity Kotter.

Esme has learned from horrifying per-sonal experi-ence that the body can live without the spirit, so why can’t the spirit live without the body?

Esme won-ders if Troy found the hidden cave, a portal to the realm of the dead, and released Harrity’s spirit.

Chapter 2, Scene 1

John Esme Doesn’t Like or Want to Be Alone Anymore

After searching all morning, they break for lunch. John introduces Esme to his mother.

Esme tells John she doesn’t have par-ents, doesn’t remember ever having them.

Esme asks John to come back to the host house following the afternoon search. She doesn’t want to be alone anymore. Though John still isn’t sure why she came here and if she knows any-thing about his dad’s disappear-ance, he can’t help feeling protective of her.


Scene 2 Esme Desire to Trust

Esme knows she can’t trust John and his mother, but she wants to desperately.

In the past, when people started ask-ing questions, wanting to know who she was and where she came from, she’d known she had to run. She couldn’t risk anyone finding out what she did to be free or being sent back to that captivity.

At the first sign that she might be turned over to the sheriff and forced to reveal her secrets, she’ll have to run.

Chapter 3, Scene 1

John Already Under My Skin

John barely knows Esme but she slipped past his defenses when she threw herself into his arms that morning.

Making her promises will lead to pain. The last time a woman fool-ishly trusted him to do right by her, she’d killed herself rather than having to face life with-out him.

John doesn’t want to leave Esme out here alone, but he can’t make prom-ises or give her hope that he’s capable of being anything other than a friend and an employer.


Scene 2 Esme Alive for the First Time, Not Simply Surviving

Until she met John, Esme never experi-enced true warmth,

life, and she has no idea how she’ll survive without it now. But she can’t shake the fear that if she tells anyone about the Old Woman who held her captive, and how she escaped, she’ll be sent back to her dark prison.

Esme’s captiv-ity had been her life for as long as she can remember. She has no recollection of another life, another place, other people.

Esme can’t run yet—not without risk-ing her life in the blizzard that could last days. She’s fought too hard to escape death to give up easily. She’ll just have to be ready to flee when the weather lets up, and she’ll have to steel herself against want-ing the wrong things. Deep down, she hopes John will come after her.

Chapter 4, Scene 1

John A Tempo-rary Stay

When John catches Esme packing, he offers her a deal: Instead of a paycheck, she’ll volunteer and her pay will be staying in the fully stocked host house. She agrees to his deal but insists that she’s not in trouble, just needs a place to be safe and free. He isn’t sure whether to believe her.

John can see Esme is in trouble, she’s running from someone or something. He can tell she’s afraid.

John knows this deal will only forestall the inevita-bility of her leaving.


Scene 2 Esme Harrity Arrives

Trapped together in the growing storm, John and Esme get to know each other. In the back of her mind, she’s relieved not to be alone. John will hear the hor-rible screaming and know just like she did last night that it’sHarrity’s ghost. Troy freed his vengeful spirit from the cave.

In life, Har-rity was the most peace-ful man alive, respected human life. But Esme insists things happen to bodies and spirits that have been bound in cap-tivity. The mind gets twisted in darkness. Har-rity has a rea-son for wanting revenge on Dennis and his offspring—revenge for what they did to his dog, who was closer than a brother and loved like one.

When the howling starts again and the door of the host house blows in, Esme believes Har-rity and his ghost dog have come down from the mountain, from the realms of the dead, to take their revenge.

The rest of this chart can be found on my website at www.karenwiesner.com.


This excerpt from the book is provided so you can see how these dimen-sions were developed within the fully fleshed-out story.

Excerpt from:

Bound Spirits, Book 1 Bloodmoon Cove Spirits Series © 2013 by Karen Wiesner

Chapter 1

John Kotter couldn’t imagine what it was that made people say you couldn’t go home again. The knowledge that he’d said those very words himself ten years ago—and he’d said them, in many ways, as a vow—struck him as ironic now. He hadn’t wanted to come back then. Oh, his intention hadn’t been to abandon his parents and never see them again. More like I fully intended to abandon Bloodmoon Cove and the park I spent my life in ... loving. I wanted to leave to escape the censure of the town’s last memory of my selfish failure.

He’d been the happiest kid in the world, growing up in a park complete with a campground, living at the base of the most majestic mountain he’d ever laid eyes on. He and his cousin Twyla, who was six years younger than him, had been given free reign of the place. They’d gone everywhere, seen everything of their little piece of the world. Once upon a time, John had imagined himself taking over the camp-ground when his dad retired. But then his dad’s brother and his wife left with Twyla, John’s best friend in the world. In the process, they’d done the unthinkable, what few had dared before in these parts. Folks didn’t leave Bloodmoon Cove. They grew up, found employment usu-ally in the family business, started a family, and life just went around and around like a circle.

John had imagined that same life for himself. When he was only seventeen, tragedy that he’d never, ever considered could happen did happen. His only recourse had seemed black-and-white to him. Leave Bloodmoon Cove and his dream of running the park like his father, grandfather, great-grandfather and great-great-grandfather. Make a life for himself anywhere else because he couldn’t live here anymore where everyone looked at him with blame, accusation, anger.


So he’d left. Gone to a four-year-college and gotten his Bachelor’s degree, specializing in natural resources, completed the Seasonal Law Enforcement Training Program to become a law enforcement ranger, then he’d worked seasonally at the first national park that hired him in Arizona. He’d worked there for five years. He’d still be there now if fresh tragedy hadn’t struck.

After a decade away, John Kotter was back in Bloodmoon Cove, back to the life he’d spent his entire childhood dreaming of until the dream turned sour and wrong. Only I never wanted to come back this way. I didn’t want to end up running this place until Dad officially re-tired. But Dad’s death put me in charge. There’s no one else, and I can’t just let this park die, too.

John drove toward his family legacy, Bloodmoon Cove Park, at first light on May third. Already, the day was shaping up to be overcast, freezing cold, and light snow blew with the promise of much more to come—a marked contrast to the absolutely gorgeous spring weather he and his mother had experienced yesterday afternoon. John, his mother and his grandfather had grilled out and spent most of the af-ternoon and evening in the backyard, soaking up the brilliant, warm sunshine. He wasn’t surprised at the change today though. Weather conditions had always been volatile this close to the base of the moun-tain. Bloodmoon Cove’s winter wouldn’t end until, maybe, late June, and sometimes longer than that. When John was just a kid, his father, grandfather, and family friend and Mino-Miskwi tribal leader George Maulson had taught him to read the sky. They were in for a doozy of a blizzard and the bad weather would arrive soon. Even still, John had known he couldn’t put this trip off much longer.

He made the turn, heading for the campground entrance. The wind grew fiercer, battering against his truck, trying to push the heavy-duty vehicle off the road. John frowned in surprise at the road ahead of him. He hadn’t expected the two-mile-long driveway to be mostly plowed of snow. In truth, no one had been here since the camp-ing season had ended abruptly last September, when his father disap-peared, presumed dead. Would the county sheriff—the only law en-forcement in Bloodmoon Cove—have sent someone to plow? Why? John couldn’t say he and Graham “Gray” Mecham were close buddies.


He and Gray got along, sure. But even mild friendship didn’t warrant the amount of work it would take to plow out all these roads.

In the three weeks since John had quit his law enforcement rang-er position in Arizona last October, trained his replacement, and wrapped up his life knowing he’d never leave Bloodmoon Cove again once he settled back here, he’d realized how few friends he actually had left in Bloodmoon Cove. Twyla had been gone for a long time. And the reason he’d left here, Cara-Marie’s suicide ... well, he’d alienated a lot of the people he thought were his friends with that situation. They blamed him for daring to consider a life for himself away from their hometown. Sometimes he even thought his mother harbored the same accusations toward him.

John shook his head, gazing around him in astonishment as he drove closer the park. He’d expected to see the place a wreck. For almost nine months, no one had been here to take care or “winter-ize” before the park abruptly closed for the season. His mother had done only what she had no choice to do in closing the place up: Hired someone to come in and pressurize the system at the well house, close the stop valves on the toilets, and turn off the water in the park rest-rooms. She couldn’t have coped with more than that after losing her beloved husband.

John had come home to take over the park, fully expecting to have to hire someone to help him get the place back up to code. While his mom didn’t want the family park to close indefinitely any more than her elderly father-in-law, Patrick, did, she knew she couldn’t run the place herself. For one thing, she was a nurse at the teeny-tiny hospital in town and her services there were desperately needed. Besides, she was also a full-time, live-in nurse for Patrick. For another, she had a son in the park ranger business. So many generations of Kotters had run the park. John’s father, David, had wanted him to be the next in line. When he’d come home for his father’s funeral recently thinking he’d only be there for a few days, John had never considered saying no when his mother asked him to come home permanently and take over their family heritage.

On the passenger’s side of the 4x4 park truck that’d belonged to John’s father and had been passed down to him, his German shepherd Robert barked when John slowed down before the gatehouse. All his


life growing up here, his family had had dogs, but John hadn’t gotten one when he moved away. He hadn’t expected his father’s dog to take to him so quickly. His mother had told him Robert had spent all this time grieving, barely eating since David was taken from him. Some-how, the German Shepherd saw John as an acceptable substitute for his longtime companion.

John put the truck into park, then jumped out, the dog on his heels, and moved to the barrier blocking the road. Beside it was the entrance station with huge panes of glass, a visitor’s first stop into the park. The only other way in or out of the park was a service road that only employees were allowed to use.

Planting his feet on the ground to keep the icy wind from blow-ing him right over, John reached down to his belt. With his Under Ar-mour acrylic hat crammed down around his ears, he managed to find the right key on the retractable key chain his father had worn on his belt for most of his life, then unlocked the padlock securing the thick chain around the barrier gate.

Robert was already exploring eagerly, so John unlocked the gate-house. Inside the strangely immaculate campground office, he pressed the button to automatically open the gate barrier outside. He got back into his truck, drove through the open gate, then got back out leaving the vehicle door open. He closed the barrier and locked up the build-ing on the way back out.

Despite the sun peeking occasionally through the clouds and snow, the day remained dark and foreboding. The wind was screaming like all the demons in hell were amassing at the portal. He was hoping to finish his assessment quickly so he could be back in town before the storm hit.

“Robert, come on,” he called to his dog, “let’s go check out the host house.”

The dog obediently jumped back inside and took up vigil at his side. John paused only long enough to wipe down his seat, then drove slowly through the campground first, marveling at the condition of the park considering how long it’d been neglected. His mom had spe-cifically told him she hadn’t done anything that wasn’t absolutely nec-essary. When he’d decided he needed to make a run out here to access the condition of the park, he’d brought along a tablet, expecting to


compile a long list of things that needed to be done before the camp-ground re-opened in early June. Sure, most everything was under a few inches of snow and therefore he couldn’t know for certain what needed work, but someone had been taking care of this place. For one thing, all the roads were plowed. Additionally, the winterization his mother had willfully neglected last September looked done. He even found a compost pile at the edge of the small copse of trees around the side of the host house.

What in the world’s going on here?The campground house itself was another surprise. The two-story

German log and stone structure was unusual with the logs exposed to the outside. John had always found the place charming and a little creepy because of that break from traditional German-built log-and-stone houses. Something about it looked unfinished and even mis-matched. The symmetry was off somehow. The inside had everything anyone could need, of course, and it was comfortable. But someone had been here. The sidewalk leading up to the house had been shoveled recently. His second clue was that thick smoke wound its way out of the chimney, mostly blown apart by the wind but still noticeable. Long be-fore winter, John and his dad had always been preparing the woodshed next to the house, filling it with wood that would last them through the winter. Since their family lived at the campground back then, they’d used the wood-burning stove instead of electric heat that’d been put in by his grandfather. His mom had moved into a small rental house in town with Patrick after David went missing.

As John walked around the backyard of the house, he noticed someone had put the cover over the central air unit—something he knew for a fact his mother would never have thought to do. The grill and furniture on the back porch had also been secured with winter coverings. Plus, the exterior faucets had been wrapped.

Shaking his head, John walked back around to the front of the house warily, making his footsteps up to the porch light and sound-less. He was relieved to be out of the wind flecked with ice shards that made his eyes water. The shrieking sound became muffled under the porch roof, thankfully.

He put a restraining hand on Robert’s head, and the canine under-stood he was asking him not to bark or rush inside once the door was


unlocked. When John closed a hand around the doorknob to unlock it with the key, the knob turned easily. Maybe his mother had done little to close up the park, but she would have locked the front door for sure. The shepherd walked beside him cautiously when he opened the front door and stepped quietly inside.

His mother had confirmed that morning that she’d made sure the electric heat was turned to a minimum safe temperature that would prevent the pipes from freezing in September. Yet the house felt cozy and warm. And it looks lived in. Dishes in the drainer ... from supper last night? Book—one of the old classics Mom and Dad love—next to the sofa in front of the wood burning stove in the living room, where we used to gather at night and play board games.

John nudged open the door of the one bedroom that was down-stairs. While the bed was neatly made, there was the impression of a head on one of the pillows. Someone had been sleeping here.

He moved out and entered the small bathroom with the freestand-ing shower, toilet and sink. A towel hung next to the shower—it was dry, as if waiting to be used. He opened the medicine cabinet and saw a toothbrush, travel-sized toothpaste and lotion, a comb, and femi-nine products. Okay, so the squatter is a woman. All “mini” items that could have come from the camp store. Probably did. Inside the shower, he saw the same familiar items—travel-sized shampoo, conditioner and a bar of soap.

Still on cat feet, John started up the staircase toward the three bed-rooms upstairs. Strange. After I left, Mom said she and Dad slept in the bedroom downstairs. They closed the door at the bottom of the stairs and blocked up the crack beneath so the cold air couldn’t get through, and they stopped heating the upstairs for the winter. He heard the soft whisper of Robert’s paws on the stairs behind him and the dog sniffed the whole time. At the top, John couldn’t avoid the creaking. No mat-ter where he stepped, he’d learned there was no escaping that inevi-table creak.

He stalled on the landing. Like he expected, the upstairs was sig-nificantly colder than the rest of the house had been. One door on the second floor was open a crack, and Robert disappeared soundlessly into it after sniffing the hallway runner. John didn’t have time to call him back. So much for sneaking up on this squatter.


Sighing in frustration, he crept his way to the door and peeked his head around it. Robert stood in the room, licking the hand of a small woman huddled in the corner of the room, hands over ears, shivering and singing an old hymn, obviously fatigued from doing so, under her breath. John knew his dad’s dog—no way would Robert befriend a stranger, certainly not in this affectionate way. It was obvious the canine had recognized the scent of the woman long before he came upon her up here.

The woman jumped to her feet, seeing John. Her eyes were wide open in shock. With no warning whatsoever, she rushed at him and threw herself full-body into his arms. She sounded like she was sob-bing when she exclaimed, “You’re alive!”

John had no idea what was going on. Why had she been huddled in the corner of the room with her hands over her ears? She’d seemed deathly afraid at first—before she’d launched herself into his arms. Had she heard him drive up, seen or heard him walking around the house? Maybe, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d been ex-pecting someone or something else entirely.

Who was this person? Who did she think he was? Even with a dozen questions circling his head, he became aware

of the slight, shivering form of the woman in his arms. She was a good head shorter than him and slim as a sprite. Yet he couldn’t escape the fact that she was a woman and she had all the curves of one. He’d in-stinctively grabbed her when she flew at him, and he felt the hourglass shape of her waist, the slight curve of feminine hips, and a swell of breasts beneath the too-large clothes he’d glimpsed.

Swallowing an emotion he didn’t want to experience, he reached up to cradle the head covered in long, thick, blondish-black hair. Then he drew back to look at the waif-ish face.

Just as lightning quick as she’d come at him before, her expres-sion changed now and she fumbled for a moment before she backed off with a flare gun held tightly before her—trained straight at his chest.

Never before had he seen a face more terrified, more closed off, more contradictorily sweet as this young woman’s. Her full bottom lip was trembling as she said wildly, “You’re not him. I thought you were him.”


“Him who?” John had no doubt that if he didn’t speak softly and reassuringly, she’d start screaming bloody murder in a second. Very carefully, he put his hands up to pacify her.

“The man ... the one who was here before. He went up on the moun-tain, and he didn’t come back. I couldn’t find him.”

“My father? You knew my father?”She didn’t respond, only looked at him with confused, scared eyes.

“He looked like you ... but not.”John nodded.

“He was tall and wide like you. I thought you were him. That’s the only reason. But you’re not him.”

John took after his mother with deeply bronze skin, dark hair and forest green eyes, but he was six foot and muscular like his father. At first sight, he supposed someone could mistake him for his old man.

“I’m related to him. Who are you? How do you know my dad?”She shook her head, waving the flare gun. “Don’t come any closer.”Though he hadn’t moved in her direction even one step, John tried

to keep himself from laughing. “Look, lady, everything’s okay. I wanna know why you’re staying here, of course, but I promise I’m not gonna hurt you. The dog won’t hurt you either. Obviously he’s a pushover.”

She shook her head, murmuring in a distracted tone, “He’s too well trained. Whatever David told him to do, he did.”

“You obviously know my dad and his dog,” John said, beginning to wonder again what exactly was going on here. How long had she been here? Before September, the dog had lived his whole life in this park. He knew every square inch. He knew all the regulars who came here. Obviously he knew this woman ... and John’s dad had known her, too. How? John couldn’t get himself to believe anything lascivi-ous and not simply because this woman was clearly young. Like most Kotter men, his old man had spent most of his life alone. When he’d met Natalia, he’d realized why no other woman appealed to him. She was quite simply the only one for him. But that didn’t answer the ques-tion of how this squatter knew his old man.

Instead of responding, she looked at him again with her mouth open. Then she swallowed harshly, her throat sounding bone dry in the frigid air. “Did you hear it?”

John shook his head, doubly confused. “Hear what?”


“The screaming.”Is she up here in the bitter cold, hiding because she heard something

that scared her—not my presence? Something else? Who else could be screaming? This place is deserted.

Frowning, John asked, “You mean the wind?” It’d been bad last night and early this morning.

“It was coming from the mountain,” the woman said softly, “where your father disappeared.”

John took a couple steps closer to her. Instantly, she jabbed the flare gun at him. “Look, honey, can we put that down? You don’t even have a flare in it. You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.”

He grinned without the slightest bit of intimidation, reaching his hand harmlessly toward her. “The wind at the base of the moun-tain can sound like screaming. But it was just the wind, if that’s what spooked you. There’s a storm coming, so it probably sounds worse.”

She closed her eyes, letting him take the flare gun out of her hands. Then she wrapped her arms around her head as if she was trying to block out the sound. “It wouldn’t stop. It wasn’t like before, like other times. It was ... horrible. I thought ... Evil ...”

John tucked the empty flare gun that he knew she’d taken from the gatehouse into his belt. “Everything’s okay. My name’s John Kotter. My family owns this park, the campground, this house.”

This close up, he couldn’t fail to notice just how small and fright-ened she looked. Even if he wanted to be mad at her for taking over the house like it was her own, he couldn’t get himself to be. While he knew nothing about her, she didn’t look the type to be bent on any-thing criminal. She’d clearly been through a lot. Maybe she’d been in trouble and down on her luck and his father had befriended her. It was something the old man would do. He wondered if his mother knew this person. She hadn’t mentioned her.

John leaned forward and offered her his hand. She stared at it like he’d offered her a rattlesnake. “What’s your name, honey?”

She swallowed hard again, her breath sounding shaky when she sank to the bed behind her and drew her knees up to her front. “You’re really David’s son? I’ve never seen you before.”

“I just moved back to Bloodmoon Cove recently.”


Tentatively, because he continued to hold out his hand toward her, she offered her doll-like one to him. “I’m ... I’m Esmeralda ... um, Dumas.”

John remembered the book he’d seen downstairs on the living room table. The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Okay, she’s not ready to get too friendly. Closing his large hand around hers, he shook, grin-ning a little wider this time to show her she hadn’t really fooled him, but he’d go along for now. “That’s a mouthful, honey. Do you mind if I call you Esme?”

He wasn’t prepared for the electricity in her sweet, small smile or the jolt that ran through him when they touched in a simple hand-shake. Her hands were like ice. But her skin was silky smooth and alive in a way that made him want to continue holding her. For a long min-ute in which he couldn’t catch his breath, he recalled the way she’d flown at him when he stepped into the room. She’d seemed relieved to see him. His heart ached for some reason he couldn’t define. The feel of her, small and trembling ... a woman, dear God, what a woman ... in his arms swept over him as if he was holding her again.

“Esme. I like that. Yes, please call me Esme.”Somehow John remembered to breathe and the process of inhal-

ing and exhaling made him feel slightly dizzy. She’d clearly fallen on hard times. Her dark blond hair had been raggedly cut, pulled back in a messy ponytail away from her strangely beautiful face. With no bangs, the way her hair framed her tiny face made her seem more frag-ile and even whimsical. If she’d told him she was really a fairy from some magical woods nearby, he would have been hard-pressed to dis-pute her. Everything about her fit that description. Her light brown eyes, so child-like without a hint of makeup, nevertheless belonged to a grown woman who clearly retained a semblance of innocence he’d never seen before. Her abrupt vulnerability tugged at him. She seemed shy and unsure of herself, even a little afraid now. He couldn’t help no-ticing how golden her skin was in glimpses beneath the far-too-large clothing she wore. Her strong, white teeth were framed by full lips that trembled slightly. Her neck seemed almost too long and narrow for her small woman’s body. Who was this waif?

Still holding her hand, he drew her gently to her feet. Even in that small contact, he could feel how featherweight she was. Baggy pants


topped with his father’s heavy-duty ranger jacket—the same kind John was wearing—showed just how little she’d had to live on alone here. She was all but drowning. How long had she been here? Long before his dad’s disappearance—that was about all he could guess. “Esme it is. So, Esme, what are you doing here?”

Her eyes opened impossibly wider. “I’m sorry. I didn’t have any place else to go. And when everyone left ...”

First true thing you’ve said, honey?“I had the feeling.” He reluctantly withdrew from the handshake

and put his tingling hand in his pocket. While he wasn’t sure about feeling such sympathy just because she looked like such a tiny wisp, he was glad there’d been plenty of firewood in the shed to keep the house warm, that the supplies at the trading post store hadn’t run out on her.

She gave him a pleading, tentative look. “I’m ... um, John, I prom-ise that I paid for everything I took. Go ahead and check the camp-ground store. There was a price list in the desk behind the counter, and I included tax every time. I also kept an inventory of what I took, in case you needed it. The money is in the cash register.”

So she’d broken into the store or found the key. Whether or not she’d paid would be easy to find out. His mother had taken all the money out of the store in September. She’d also removed the perish-ables, so whatever Esme was living on couldn’t be fresh. About all he could fathom was that she hadn’t starved to death.

“You’re also the one who’s been keeping the roads clear?” he asked.“I know there’s no reason for you to believe this, John, but I love

this park. I know it by heart. I explored the grounds and some of the mountain last summer—as much as was possible on foot. I’ve been trying to fix things around here, maintain them and take care of them. Keeping the roads clear was part of it. I cleaned up the campground in October, before winter hit. It was a mess. I keep wildlife away from the buildings and I’ve made sure the pipes haven’t burst. I don’t have a lot to do around here by myself, like you can imagine, and keeping things up seemed like the least I could do. I started a compost pile and that really helps me cut down on trash, though I waste little.”

She’d evidently wanted to say all this for a long time, so he just let her go.


“I’ll pay you. For whatever ... whatever I’ve used. The house, elec-tricity, water usage. I needed it. I really wanted to make sure the place was well taken care of. It’s such a beautiful park. So wide open, full of nature and wonder. Please ...” She swallowed harshly. “Don’t send me away.”

“How long have you been here, Esme?” John asked, uncomfortable with how easily he believed every word she said. Based on the main-tenance he’d observed thus far, she loved this park almost as much as his family always had. She took care of it as if it were her own, but also respected the fact that it wasn’t hers.

“I came, um, last year. Summer. But ...”“My dad was here then.”She nodded. “With this dog.”So Dad knew about our friendly neighborhood squatter. How much

did he know about her?“I camped out in the woods, and ... well, he was nice. Your dad was

nice to me. I never met him officially. I only know his name because I heard people say it. But he ... well, he let me stay. Without paying.”

Maybe Dad knew she was camping in the woods. Figured she couldn’t pay and wasn’t hurting anybody. Maybe he even left food out for her.

“I’m sorry, but after it got cold and the place was deserted, I couldn’t leave. I realized how much I’d come to love this place. I can’t explain it, but something about it feels familiar to me, like it’s home. I thought if I took care of it, maybe nobody would mind.”

Her big eyes were looking at him with so much hope, he could understand what had motivated his dad to overlook her infractions, to help her when he could. Finding someone who loved this place as much as he had when he was a kid wouldn’t be easy. Sure, he could probably get some kid from town to come out and help him clean up, but it wouldn’t be the same. Esme was what this park needed.

I must be crazy. But I was raised to give people chances. To help others whenever I can. “Look, I have to get this place in shape for the camping season in June. You’ve done a good job of keeping it main-tained so far. I can tell you care about the park. What would you think about a job here?”


She blinked rapidly. She couldn’t be any more surprised than he was at the offer. “A job?”

“Yeah. Getting it ready for campers, then when the season starts we’ll need a campground host. I’m not sure yet at this point how big of a job it’ll be. I can’t pay you much.”

Her face scrunched as she frowned. “But ... is that why you came here? Because you need this house now? You need to move in?”

John shook his head. “No. My mom needs me around right now. She’s got her hands full with taking care of my grandpa and his osteo-arthritis, and ... I don’t know. Since Dad died, I worry about her. She’s not coping well. She’s just going through the motions. She prefers to be in town and wants me to stay there with her and Granddad for awhile.”

“Wait ... Your dad died?” Devastation claimed her expression.“You didn’t know? You said he disappeared.”“He went up the mountain and he didn’t come back. The police

came ...”Feeling his throat tighten, John offered softly, “This mountain has

claimed many lives.”“I looked for him,” she burst out, sounding like she couldn’t or

wouldn’t believe. “I looked everywhere. But then I thought ... I thought maybe that’s what he usually did in the winter. Winterized it. Deserted the place. I didn’t want to believe he was ... dead. I wanted to believe he came off the mountain ... and went home.” Tears filled her eyes, and she sat heavily on the bed again.

John watched her in mute surprise. She’d said she hadn’t official-ly met his father, and yet her emotional reaction was deep. John had suspected coming back here, a place he associated with his old man, would affect him, too. He couldn’t say if he’d really dealt with his loss. Being away, wrapping up his life in Arizona the past nine months, had kept him from feeling the grief he was afraid to give in to. In some ways, he’d been grateful that his life had had other complications. In the end, even those had left behind the bitter remorse of yet another selfish mistake, more bad memories and recriminations he’d some-how have to life with. John suspected without seeing his father’s body, finding it so they could have some closure that he was truly gone, he’d have as much trouble accepting his death as his mom was having.


“Look, you can stay here. Like I said, I can’t pay you much, but this house can sure be part of the package.”

She nodded, sniffing as she visibly tried to get hold of herself. “I’d love a job here. I’m willing to learn anything I need to. I’ve read ev-ery book I could get my hands on about parks, wildlife preservation, plants, insects, first aid ... You name it. There isn’t a paper in this en-tire park I haven’t read through from start to finish.”

His old man had been a pack rat. If Esme had been desperate for reading material, the way she implied, the gatehouse office would cer-tainly have provided her with all she needed. “About all I can think of then is that my mom’s a registered nurse. She teaches first aid and CPR at the hospital in town. She can help you get your EMT certifica-tion. That’ll take a few months, but the training is something you’ll find real useful out here. The rest of your knowledge is good, too, and might help us expand into some programs during the summer. Mostly, you’d be keeping the campground clean, checking in campers, work-ing in the store when you can.”

“I can do all that. I don’t know how I’d pay for the EMT course. I assume it costs money. I have a little ...”

John shook his head. “Don’t worry about that. Bloodmoon Cove needs EMTs. The course won’t cost you anything but time.”

“What else?”“A few weeks of intensive on-the-job training here at the camp-

ground will be required, and you’ll need to read all the SOP manuals in the office—"

“Standard Operative Procedures.” She nodded. “Yes, I’ve already read them. I read everything in the park office. More than once.” Af-ter a second, she seemed to realize, “I didn’t steal anything. The keys for everything were hanging here in that case near the front door downstairs.”

The spare park keys, carefully labeled under hooks. If his mother had locked the house, she’d done it with Esme inside.

John found he wasn’t surprised to hear that this woman was so keen on learning everything she could. If she’d read all the boring files and manuals in the office multiple times, she’d been serious about digesting the information, filing it in her brain whenever she’d need the information. He’d met few people as interested and eager as Esme


seemed to be about what others might consider dry and boring. He couldn’t help wondering if life had taught her to become hard and cyn-ical. She’d obviously been afraid of him after she realized he wasn’t his father. But she didn’t seem scared anymore—just desperate to prove her worth here. He wondered how old she was. She could have passed for eighteen, but he suspected she was older. Something about her in-sisted she wasn’t a child in any way.

“John, how do you think your dad died?”He shook his head, not prepared for the question. “He went miss-

ing while he was supposed to be hiking on the mountain. The back-country permit he filled out stated he’d been heading toward Spirit Peak and would return by noon that day. My mom called the sheriff when she got home—here at the campground host house—and found the permit in the office still not filed away with a return time of six that evening. After multiple searches of the mountain, his body was never found. The sheriff filed a report saying he tumbled from one of the many treacherous cliffs, possibly after a heart attack precipi-tated the fall.”

“But you don’t believe that?” Esme guessed. One of her hands was fingering a chain around her neck. The rest of the necklace was hid-den under her shirt.

John shrugged. “My dad believed in filling out permits, using the buddy system. But he went alone that day. Didn’t even take Robert with him. That wasn’t like him. I don’t know what convinced him to go up there by himself. I can’t imagine. When we were kids, he drilled it into me and my cousin Twyla that we never went up on the moun-tain without a buddy, without filling out the necessary paperwork for those down here if we didn’t come back.”

“Twyla,” Esme murmured under her breath, then glanced up at him. “Is Robert the name of this dog?”

John nodded. “He never went anywhere without ’his brother’ as he called him. On that subject, you said you explored the mountain this past summer? That you searched there for my father?”

She nodded.“By yourself?”He could see she was guilty before she admitted, “Yes.”


“That’s incredibly dangerous. You can’t go up there by yourself. The mountain is treacherous.”

“I was fine. But I didn’t find him.”“Well, you can’t do that again. You have to tell someone down

here at the base exactly where you’re going and you need to fill out a backcountry permit with a general idea of where you’re heading and your return date or time. Above all, you need a hiking buddy. There’s no two ways about that, Esme. It’s for your own good. If you’re gonna work here, it’s always safety first. Promise me.” John wasn’t sure why, but the idea of this frail woman hiking alone on a mountain as dan-gerous as Bloodmoon scared him spitless. He didn’t like it one iota.

There was no guile in her expression when she agreed. “Okay. I promise. I want to work here.”

Is that the only reason you’re agreeing? Do you know why my dad went up there by himself, without his dog? Even asking himself the questions, he couldn’t suspect her of any wrongdoing in his dad’s death. But maybe she knew more than she was saying.

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