One of the things I really love about writing is when you find your characters in a place that they created all by themselves.
In Winter Courtship of Fur Bearing Critters, we learn from Craw that Jeremy was an ex convict and an ex conman, whom Craw had met panhandling on the streets of Boulder. When it was time to write Jeremy’s story, I had to elaborate.
I’d already established Jeremy and Aiden as communicating mostly by bickering, so I needed to explain how that relationship had happened as well. What followed was How to Raise an Honest Rabbit, and you all loved it, and I was pleased.
You were not so happy in Knitter in his Natural Habitat
when Jeremy got beat the fuck up. I didn’t know how to go to everybody and explain why that happened–but it wasn’t something I’d just done because I wanted to see Jeremy and everybody else hurt.
In fact, it was something I had inadvertently set in motion from that first thumbnail description of Jeremy put forth in Winter Courtship. If Jeremy was an ex con and ex conman, and he was going to have a happy ending with young Aiden, there was going to have to be a reason for him to go straight. If there was a reason to go straight, there was going to be some sort of reckoning.
And if there was going to be reckoning, there was going to be fallout, and that was going to be a whole other book.
And that’s Blackbird.
The first chapter of Blackbird might seem a little drifty. I did that on purpose– Jeremy is a little drifty. He’s in a hospital, he’s coming and going from reality, and for a couple of sequences, he doesn’t realize that the words that he hears in his head when he talks aren’t what he sounds like at all. So we see Jeremy at rock bottom. Positive he deserved what happened to him at the end of Knitter, terrified that his boy won’t love him anymore, positive that he never deserved to be loved in the first place.
When we see him at the end we see him in his glory, and although it’s not a roller coaster ride to get there, I hope it is at least a pleasant journey. I know that the ending made me cry– and I was not expecting it to. It’s happy, right? But, well, I think when you all get to see Jeremy change the soundtrack of his own life, you’ll see why.
Oh yeah– and we finally find out what happens to the floor safe.
(Oh– btw– ALL of the first Granby stories are now available in print in The Granby Knitting Menagerie— for those of you who treasure your paper đ
Description:
Sequel to Knitter in His Natural Habitat
A Granby Knitting Novel
A Granby Knitting Novel
After three years of waiting for ârabbitâ Jeremy to commit to a life in Granbyâand a life togetherâAiden Rhodes was appalled when Jeremy sustained a nearly fatal beating to keep a friend out of harm’s way. How could Aidenâs bunny put himself in danger like that?
Aiden needs to get over himself, because Jeremy has a long road to recovery, and he’s going to need Aiden’s promise of love every step of the way. Jeremy has new scars on his face and body to deal with, and his heart canât afford any more wounds.
When their friendâs baby needs some special care, the two men find common ground to firm up their shaky union. With Aidenâs support and his bossâs inspiration, Jeremy comes up with a plan to make sure Ariadne’s little blackbird comes into this world with everything she needs. While Jeremy grows into his new role as protector, Aiden needs to ease back on his protectiveness over his once-timid lover. Aiden may be a wolf in student’s clothing and Jeremy may be a rabbit of a man, but that doesnât mean they canât walk the wilds of Granby together.
Here’s where you can buy it:
Blackbird at Dreamspinner
Blackbird at ARe
Blackbird at Amazon
Here’s some reviews of folks who liked it:
The Novel Approach — Now, you may want to notice that Rhys Ford (the inimitable and awesome!) and Lisa from TNA Reviews both conspired to help promote my book. I almost burst into tears this morning when Rhys put this on my FB timeline, but I had no idea they were going to do a giveaway. I’m thrilled and humbled, and I urge you to stop by this particular site and leave a comment on the giveaway post, because guys– that was really awesome of them!
And here’s an excerpt:
Shattered Bones
and Broken Strength
JEREMY STILLSON spent more time in the hospital after he stopped living a life of crime than he had before heâd quit. Given that his second hospital stay ever lasted over two months, he could safely say he was over the experience by the time he left for home.
If Craw hadnât thrown a fit and begged and pleaded so that Jeremy could share a room with Ariadne, he never would have made it.
HIS FIRST week was hazy, just a confused mess of pain and voices and AidenâAidenâholding his hand a lot, his voice choked and messy. Jeremy had a lot of surgeries in those first days, which was a blessing, because he didnât really have to make any decisions. Aiden and Craw made all of those decisions for him.
Sometime toward the end of the first week, he woke up abruptly, breaking out of a bleary dream of being locked in a box of pain.
âBoy! Boy! Aiden!â he called, because his one constant in the past three years had been his boy. At first his boy had been sarcastic and frustrated because Jeremy couldnât seem to learn the ways of living an honest life, but that had changed, hadnât it? Aiden had gone from frustrated to friendly, and then, in these past months, from friendly to more than friendly.
Why wasnât Aiden next to him?
âBoy?â he asked the cold and alien darkness. Some of his teeth were missing, his mouth hurt like the blazes, and it was hard to talk. âIf youâre gone for water, I could use some.â Because his mouth was dry and his entire body⌠it felt achy and creaky and everything, everything hurt, but that dry mouth, that was the thing that was making him craziest.
âJeremyââ
âBoy?â It was a womanâs voice, and Jeremy couldnât figure out why a woman would be in his bedroom, his sweet little bedroom in his and Aidenâs tiny apartment. Jeremy loved that little apartment; it was safe, like a den or a warren, and you could fight the urge to run when you were safe.
âHoney, itâs me, Ariadne. Weâre in the hospital, remember?â
Oh. Ariadne. Crawâs assistant and best friend. Spider-thin woman who liked to dye her hair bright red and who could knit lovely things like lace while yelling at âher boysâ not to track sheep shit all over the store.
What was she doing here?
Oh yeah.
âHey, Ariadne,â he said, feeling loopy. âHowâs the baby coming?â
âHanging in there,â she said weakly. She had pregnancy diabetes as well as high blood pressure. She was one of the most active people he knew, and sheâd been on bed rest since Thanksgiving, which wasâŚ.
When was Thanksgiving?
âAriadne?â
âYeah, hon?â
âWhat day is it?â
âDecember 20. Youâve been here around five days.â
Jeremy whimpered. âI donât like hospitals,â he said nakedly, and he heard a noise. He tried to move his head, but his face was swathed in bandages and his body just hurt so bad. In a moment there was a rustling, and the sound of something being dragged, and then something else.
In another moment there was a softness near his cheek and the smell of the special soap Ariadne liked to buy from a crafter in Grand.
And then there was a pressure on his blessedly undamaged hand.
âIâm right here,â she said, and he moved his eyes just enough to see her wan and pale face in the light creeping in from the hallway.
âI donât mean to be a bother,â he said, keeping his voice low in the hospital echo. The words were almost a cruel repeat of his first months spent at Crawâs farm and yarn mill, when heâd had one foot out the door and all of his earthly possessions packed and ready to bolt. The words âI donât mean to be a bother,â had been code then, for âDonât get attached to me, Iâm not staying.â
âWell, itâs nice to have company,â Ariadne said quietly. âKeeps me from worrying so much about my little one here.â
Jeremy felt weak tears sliding down the sides of his face. âYou shouldnât have to worry,â he said sincerely. âYou of all people should have a healthy, happy baby. Youâre gonna stick around for it. Thatâs important.â
âIâll be here for you too, okay, Jeremy?â
Jeremy nodded and tried not to be afraid. Bad things came out of the darkâfists and gunshots and the butt ends of pistols. Sharp needles and scalpels and that horrible, nauseating, free-floating feeling of anesthetic.
âI appreciate it,â he said, feeling dumb and helpless. âJust until my boy gets here.â
Oh no. Heâd just called Aiden âhis boyâ when Ariadne and Craw werenât entirely comfortable with the two of them yet. âDonât tell Craw,â he mumbled. âBut I really love that boy.â
âCrawâs fine with it,â Ariadne soothed, rubbing the back of his hand. âCraw and Aiden saved your life.â
âYeah,â Jeremy said, remembering that terrifying moment when heâd heard the gunshot and thought it was the one that killed him. And then Aiden sobbing over him, yelling at him for going to defend their friend alone. âHe cried for me. My boy shouldnât ever cry for me.â
âWe all cried, Jer,â Ariadne murmured into the darkness. âYouâre going to have to take better care of yourself now that youâre meaning to stay.â
âYeah, okay.â Jeremy was tired now, and the fact that he could smell his friend, feel her touch on his hand, that meant the world. âYou⌠youâre not leaving anywhere tonight, are you?â
âNo, baby. Right here.â
âWell, as long as youâre comfortable,â Jeremy said, and then he fell asleep.
SOMETHING HAPPENED. Something bad. Another surgery, maybe? Pain, confusion, more anesthesiaâGod, that shit made his stomach feel just raunchy. But it was over, and he was back in the bed, and he knew Ariadne was with him in the same room. He thought numbly that someone must have brought her bed over to his, because when he tried to turn and then stopped because it felt like a steel spike was lodged through his stomach, she was close enough to touch his shoulder as she soothed him.
âAiden, hon, heâs awake. He was asking for you.â
âJer?â
âBoy.â The sound was a drawn-out syllable of relief. âBoy, youâre here.â
Jeremy felt a hot presence next to his shoulder, rough with razor stubble and tearful breath.
âJeremy,â Aiden breathed.
Jeremy smiled a little. âGot used to you,â he mumbled. âYou and me, we lived together. I loved that. Itâs hard when youâre gone.â
âWe still live together,â Aiden said, and the words relaxed Jeremyâs shoulders, helped the pain flow over him and drip away, just like the bag of fluid attached to his arm.
âWe do? I donât live here?â
âNo, Jer. I moved into your apartment, remember? Except weâre gonna move.â
âWhy do you have to move?â No! Oh no. Aiden couldnât move outânot when Jeremy was thinking about starting a bank account and taking everything out of the safe. Including the mittens.
âNot me, Jeremy, us. You and me are going to move out. Ben is letting us buy his house now that heâs in with Craw.â
âCrawâs mad,â Jeremy said disconsolately.
The week after Thanksgiving, Aiden had told their boss at the fiber mill that they were together. Jeremy had been in the barn, feeding the animals and making sure everybodyâs heater worked, and Aiden had come up behind him, wrapping those great brawny arms around Jeremyâs waist and kissing softly at the nape of his neck.
âBad?â Jeremy asked. Heâd heard the voices from outside the barn and the slam of the door as Craw stomped inside the house. Aiden had promised himâpromisedâhis voice soft and insistent, that Jeremy would not be put on the spot because their three-year friendship had finally matured.
âHeâs a stubborn bastard,â Aiden said into his ear. âNothing new. He still thinks Iâm his little brother.â
Jeremyâs shoulders drooped. âYou were my little brother,â he said softly, stroking the rabbit in front of him. âMaybe I should justââ
Aidenâs arms tightened. âIf you say it, Jer, youâll break my heart.â
Jeremy closed his eyes then. âAnything,â he muttered. âAnything but that, boy. You understand? Not breaking your heartâthatâs like my number-one priority.â
Aidenâs warmth at his back comforted him like a bale of straw, throwing his own body heat back at him with interest. Behind his closed eyes, Crawâs anger, the displeasure of the first man who had ever known him and shown kindness, dissipated, and there was only Aiden.
Aiden hadnât been kind, not at first, but when the boy had grown, heâd become even better than kind. Heâd become a gruff bastion of safety. Nothing would ever hurt Jeremy while Aiden stood guard. Jeremy trusted that.
But that didnât change what happened next.
âSH,â AIDEN whispered now.
Jeremy must have lost time.
âCrawâs not mad?â Jeremy muttered. He heard Craw being mad. He was outside the hospital room somewhere.
âOh, heâs mad, all right.â Ariadneâs dry voice soothed like a balm. âBut not at you. Honey, Craw couldnât stay mad at you. Certainly not after what you did.â
âWhatâd I do again?â That was what he thought, anyway. All his words were what he thought. But what they sounded like was worse, like he was talking through marbles.
âYou⌠dammit, Jer, youââ
âDonât be mad!â Jeremy couldnât stand it if Aiden, his safety, his wolf, suddenly turned all his fierceness on Jeremy.
And then, to his horror, something worse happened.
He heard the noise first, the rasping of voice in Aidenâs throat, the choked sound of breath that wasnât cut free soon enough. He moved his head slowly to his left and Aidenâs face had blotched deep purple, and his chin was folded like fabric.
âBoy,â he said helplessly, and Aiden shook his head and buried his face next to Jeremyâs on the pillow.
His shoulders shook like mountains as the earth crumbled beneath them. Jeremy reached up with the arm he knew had not been broken, and scrunched his hand in that dark-gold hair.
âIâm sorry,â Aiden sobbed. âIâm sorry, Jeremy, but Iâm so damned mad.â
Jeremy moaned in his throat. âBut I didnât talk,â he protested, feeling weak. âI didnât let them get Stanley!â The little yarn seller Gianni had fallen in love with. Jeremy owed Gianniâdammit, Johnnyâand Stanley was his lover. Jeremy had done GiâJohnny a solid, that was all.
âI didnât talk,â he mumbled again, hoping to reassure, hoping to make Aiden feel better. âYou canât be mad if I didnât talk.â
âOh Jeremy,â Aiden groaned, looking up from the pillow, so close Jeremy could count the sleepless crimson branches in his eyes. âWhy didnât you run? Three years, you had one foot out the door. The mob comes, all set to kill you, and you couldnât rabbit away?â
Jeremy ran his tongue around his mouth, trying to find where his teeth were and where they werenât, so he could talk better. âYou deserve better than a man whoâd run,â he said, hoping that wasnât too garbled.
Aidenâs face crumpled again, folded, and he shook his head. âI deserve you,â he mumbled. âIâve wanted you for so longâand now, Iâm so worried.â
âDonât be worried,â Jeremy told him, thinking his voice sounded more like his voice now that heâd gotten his teeth figured out. âIâm not the guy whoâd run.â
There was more to it than that, he thought as his eyes closed. His face hurtâhe thought he might have bandages on it, because in front of his eyes were layers of things that infringed upon his vision. His pretty, pretty face, the thing his daddy had always said was his moneymaker, and now it was damaged, probably beyond repair.
âYouâd better not run,â Aiden choked next to him. âYouâd better not run. Weâre subletting that house, Jeremy. Weâre putting your name on a paper. Weâre opening a bank account, and youâre meeting my parents.â
Jeremy woke up enough for that. âNot when Iâm not pretty,â he complained.
Aidenâs voice grew flinty, like it used to do when Jeremy tried to shirk his chores. âFuck pretty,â he snarled. âFuck pretty, fuck it to hell. Youâre mine, and I love you, and we donât care about pretty. You understand?â
âYeah, fine,â Jeremy sulked. âYou be pretty for both of us. Iâm already too old for you. Now Iâm not pretty anymore. Thatâs fine.â
At that point something in his body gave a big fat throb, and his head clanged timpani with it, and he moaned from pain, because just that suddenly, it was drowning out all the other voices.
âHere, Jeremy,â Ariadne said, fumbling with the little red button near his hand. âDonât mind him. Heâs worried, and he feels bad âbout not being there.â
âDonât let him do that,â Jeremy mumbled. âMy bad. So many things in life I had to make right. Donât you see that, boy?â
But the morphine was potent and quick, and Jeremyâs mind and body were soon sliding around consciousness in the liquidy viscousness of pain and drugs and the firm belief that heâd had this coming all along.
JEREMY DIDNâT even know his real last name. He thought it might have been the one his father had died with, but even that was sort of a crapshoot. Oscar had been telling lies a lot longer than Jeremy hadâeven his âoriginalâ name might have been a lie.
As far as he knew, Jeremy had come into the world conning people. He was reasonably sure his parents had grifted their way out of the hospital bill when he was born. His mother was a hazy memory of bangly earrings and the smell of scotch, and his father had been more impressed with Jeremyâs benefits as a partner in crime than as a son.
Jeremy had hurt a lot of people before heâd just up and decided to be honest. Heâd cheated women and children, hardworking men, college students alone in the world. And as hard as heâd worked at Crawâs fiber mill, as much effort as heâd put into being an honest man, heâd always felt like it wasnât enough.
Nothing would ever be enough to make up for the man heâd been before Craw had found him, an ex-convict panhandling on the streets of Colorado.
Nothing would ever be enough to earn the love of the beautiful boy heâd been smitten with from the very beginning, when it probably wasnât right that Jeremy had even noticed his beauty at all.
So when Aiden had invaded his space, invaded his home, made Jeremy notice the three years of friendship and attraction between them, Jeremy had accepted it, because he had no choice. Aiden was his boyâas long as Jeremy could stand not to run, he was helpless to do anything but to fall into his orbit.
It had been a tenuous gravitational shift, at first. Jeremy had always circled around Aiden; from the first moment heâd seen the boy working in Crawâs mill, Jeremy had wanted to be nearer to him. But Jeremy was older, and dumber, and he was sure his soul had shriveled, a withered flower with roots in an oil spill, twisted almost since birth.
He was a bad man. Bad men did not deserve to orbit near the bright and shining sun that was his boy. It wasnât until Aiden proved he had interesting shadows, dark spots in the sun, was a wolf and not a lapdog, that Jeremy even dared to dream.
Theyâd had a month, almost two, during which Aiden spent most nights in Jeremyâs little apartment. The past few weeks, heâd been there full-time, all of his clothes in boxes, new towels from his mother in the bathroom, his favorite cereal in the cupboards. Just a breath, just a taste of having Aiden there in his home, as his home, and thenâŚ.
Well, Jeremy had debts to pay. When one of them called him up in a panic, Jeremy had to pony up.
JEREMY WOKE up the next day actually feeling like a person. How did that happen? One minute you were free floating, a specter in a hospital bed, hearing people talk about you, drifting to escape the pain, and the next time you opened your eyes, it was you, in your body, anchored to the sheets by stuff that your body did.
âAiden?â he murmured. Aitbhen. That was what it sounded like. âJebuth thfuckinâ krithâwhen bo I geâ my fhfuckinâ teef?â
Craw had a deep, growly bear voice, and his unmistakable laughter echoed over Jeremyâs head. âToday, actually,â he said. âYou get fitted for them, anyway. You didnât have any dental records, Jeremy. We had to wait until the swelling in your jaw went down to make a model.â
Jeremy remembered that. In fact, he realized that some of the difficulty heâd had talking actually had to do with his jaw still being wired shut.
âWhab bay ith ib?â Oh man, the more conscious he was, the worse he sounded. He felt like he could finally hear what he was actually saying instead of what he thought he was saying.
âYouâve been here for a week,â Craw said. âWeâre going to take some plasters for your teeth and unwire your jaw. Theyâll be changing the bandages on your face today and seeing if you need cosmetic surgery.â
âAiden?â He had to work hard, but it sounded right.
âI made him go home today, Jer. He was dead on his feet.â
Jeremy closed his eyes in relief. âGood. He wonâ thee me.â
Craw made a hurt sound. âDonât worry about Aiden seeing you, okay? Heâs always seen you.â
âWhen I wath preddy.â
Craw growled. âAll the crap I gave that boy about you two being together and youâre telling me youâre going to take it back because of a little blood?â
Jeremy had been beaten, talking the whole time, so that guy beating him wouldnât find Stanley. Suddenly meeting Crawâs eyes was not quite as hard as heâd thought it would be, that not-so-long-ago day when heâd listened to Craw and Aiden argue.
âWe bode know ith more.â
And Craw, who didnât know how to bullshit, shifted his green-brown eyes away. âHave faith,â he said gruffly. âBen found me, Stanley found Johnny, Aiden found you. Have faith.â
If Jeremy could have talked more, he would have spun sunshine and rabbit crap about how sure, a man had to have faith, and maybe, under a sunny sky, heâd have enough faith for them all. He would have said that faith is a wonderful thing, but it was better to have faith when you had a plan of escape, and that once you had a way out, you could have all the faith you wanted.
But it was all a big, fat, painful, throbbing lie. Aiden would never forgive him for not calling for help, and Jeremy had no hope that he ever could. Jeremy could lie like a champion with his words, but his eyesâwell, as a con man heâd had to squint a lot, because his eyes had been touch and go. Heâd had to believehis bullshit to lie with his eyes.
And now he couldnât use his words, and his eyes were all he had. He looked at Craw mutely, no con between them, just the painful, painful truth.
Craw nodded, and for a moment his lower lip trembled. âIâll have faith,â he whispered. âThat boy has always known his own mind and been strong about getting his way. He wanted you, I guess, and I admit, when I saw that it was real and not just you two bickering like you were married, I had second thoughts. ButâŚ.â Oh no. Crawâs voice was wobbling. âJeremy, weâve been worried. They say youâll probably be okay, but the lot of us, weâve been worried. Youâre our family, boy.â He swallowed. âIâll have faith for the two of you.â
Jeremy closed his eyes then, tight, because they were burning. ââKay,â he mumbled through a mouth full of missing teeth. âIâll bind tum ob my own.â
âGood man,â Craw told him. Then the doctor came in, and unpleasant things happened with his mouth and dental tools, and in his head he was in Crawâs field with a piece of clover in his mouth, sitting on a rock in the sunshine, warm under the golden sky, teased by the breeze, watching Aiden herd the sheep.
Hmmmm. It never occurred to me that Jeremy *wouldn't* think he deserved it, given his unusual moral compass, lack of self esteem and general rabbitude. It also never occurred to me to be mad at you, or the story's unavoidable (to me) internal logic, for hurting the people I love. It would have thrown me right out of the story for Jeremybunny to not have faced his demons. I hate the bad people and sometimes harsh fates of the story's world but, really, how could it have been otherwise.
On the other hand, I want to knit stuff for everyone, and gently coax Jeremybunny into a hug. I'm already halfway through the book…been reading on my commute and lunch. Klenexes are at the ready.
I just wanted to say, thank you for writing…and especially for writing about knitting. It was while reading your 'Keeping Promise Rock' series that I got the urge to knit. The fact that so many of the characters used knitting as physical therapy (I have RA) and as a way to de-stress really spoke to me (I fidget a lot when I try to sit still). So, every time I feel compelled to add to my stash, or knit something new I blame you…in the best possible way! đ ::bear hugs::
This comment has been removed by the author.