Eoghan Clark MacRae isn't the hero of my book. He's a lot more like a sidekick, really. He is a Scottish man, about 35 years old, he's estranged from his wife, they're divorcing. He is raising his two daughters, and he's a singer and music leader. Though he came from a bit of money and family fame, he hasn't done much to keep up family traditions. In fact, he's more or less a lost feather, floating and hoping to find its way to a good bird's nest where he can feel needed. When you think of Eoghan, think of a man with a lot of talent, spirit, and a great deal of worth, but he never realized it until he lost everything.
Though losing his wife wasn't something he was happy about, it will eventually become a true blessing in disguise for more than a few reasons. Here is a portion of the chapter for my readers to meet up with and be introduced to the music man who will give up his weekly worship gig to help tie up the loose ends of many petty as well as more sinister crimes. He's not exactly a "Watson", but he'll make a great companion, champion, and friend to our not-too-cuddly Nick Posh. When you read how Eoghan's first communication with Posh is rather direct, you'll understand his new way of thinking. He had a lesson to learn, and he caught on rather quickly - - painfully but quickly.
****************************************************
Part of Chapter Six. (Murder Book)
Calling
out to the man, with his Bowie knife clenched between his teeth, the former
soldier repelled to a safer lower ledge just below the point where the man had
fallen, Nick questioned MacRae. “Are you Eoghan MacRae?” Posh asked
directly.
“Aye,
that’s me. Never trust a woman, never.”
The
broken man spoke just over a whisper.
Exhausted and obviously worn completely out from lack of water and food
and having been exposed to the elements for a day and a night, the singer held
his tongue from lashing out against the man’s dog for a fifth or sixth time,
trying to be polite enough to be saved before he lamented about having had his
face fully drenched in the small dog’s piss from the very second he was found
by the thing.
“Your dog’s
got a pure nerve on him, doesn’t he?” asked MacRae once the two men
were safely up on top of the ridge.
“Jumping down off the side of the crag like he
did. I thought he would land flat on my head the way he leaped at me, maybe send
me the rest of the way down to the pit. Instead, he hopped and skipped about
the rocks until he found me. At least I think he likes me; he marked my face
for sure.”
Posh
couldn’t smile too broadly without losing his blade, but the large wet stain surrounding
the collar and upper portion of the man’s coat left nothing to the imagination.
Maybe it was Keeper’s way of making sure MacRae was breathing, or maybe
the dog just really had to go after all the excitement of having recovered the lost
man. Maybe the position in which MacRae
was found had lent himself as a level field in which to put up a hiked back
leg. Either way, the dog was an asset; and no matter what the sun had chosen to
do that morning, was going to be a good day.
*****************************************
Keeper is the Jack Russell terrier that Posh finds running the streets of Edinburgh. He makes a few inquiries about who the owners might be, and finding that the dog prefers to hang with him, he keeps the dog. He names the dog "Keeper" after the dog proves to be valuable in the hunt for MacRae.
I hope you like the book when it's finished. Don't worry too much about poor Eoghan; he'll be OK. He just needs a bit of a nudge, some exercise, a better diet plan, and maybe a few pointers on misplaced trust.
Photo Credit: Petsfeed.co
No comments:
Post a Comment