Evans Creek Book 1: Mister Mayor

THIRTY-EIGHT

Photo Credits: in case it isn't painfully obvious this is my own very loose rendering of the station 

Often when I write action sequences...which now that I think about it is often, since I tend to write adventures for my historical fiction works...back on track.  When I write these action sequences I usually sketch out the area.  I make maps (in the historical sites, they are carefully researched, although only boxes and lines) and use letters and arrows to represent the characters and their movements.  I refer to it during the writing to avoid putting someone where they couldn't possibly be.  It helps especially when I have multiple characters in the sequences.  I have some sort of sketch or drawing for every single action scene I write.  This is the first book that I am sharing this sort of "behind the scenes" information though.   I don't think I'll do another "extras" book for awhile.  My sketches and notes are pretty rough and probably more confusing than helpful to anyone else.

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There weren't many hills surrounding the little part of the world that was Evans Creek, but the radio station was situated atop the tallest one. It was on the outside of the town, and almost outside the little lines on the map that indicated Nicholson County. A recessed stairway with a wooden rail led up to the stout little building situated squarely atop said hill.

Squarely was an apt descriptor, not just because the station was dead-center of the site, but also because the little two-story brick building was almost a perfect square, only slightly taller than it was wide. Arayna looked up at the steps. It would be at trick to climb them without breaking her neck. Looking down, she snarled at Liz's last-minute substitution.

The shoes were sexy and stylish... and definitely suited more for an office than for these rough wooden steps, or traversing the gravel service road that crossed in front of the building and back around to the tower which stood directly behind, and in truth, partially over the building. Her gaze travelled up the steps, up the front of the building and as she tipped her head back, up the tower.

The perspective, coupled with her ill-suited footwear messed with her equilibrium and she swayed. Her brow crinkled in confusion. Heights never bothered her before.

"Are you okay?" Graham asked as he settled a steadying hand on the small of her back.

"Yeah." Arayna kept her eyes fixed squarely on Graham's face.

He made her feel safe, and the loving concern she saw on his face warmed her heart and settled her nerves. As she stepped toward him, she realized the parking lot wasn't as level as it first appeared. It was slightly sloped down and away from the building. No wonder she felt like the world was leaning. It was.

Daevey's limo pulled into the parking lot and Graham chuckled as all of the media attention turned toward the limo. As Daevey's driver opened the back door, the esteemed members of the press mobbed forward, pressing, pushing and shouting over each other in an effort to get the soundbite they needed.

"All he needs now is for someone to play Hail to the Chief over the loudspeakers." Arayna shook her head but was glad for the distraction. The parking lot was paved, but weather coupled with the company budget left it riddled with cracks and potholes.

Holding on to Graham as they walked, she was content to let her thoughts and gaze wander for a bit, trusting he would see her safely through any obstacles. At least until they reached the edge of the roped off area and the steps where she would have to be attentive once more.

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Up on the hill, hidden from the view of those below the station, observing through a telephoto lens while talking on the phone—this is one side of the conversation