Sunday! Beginnings! Today how about the start of my fifth novel, PRESSURE DROP (the first one where my Bahamian days came into play). Look up blue holes if you get a chance. In this scene it’s an inland one. On the next book tour ask me about my crazy diving experiences way back when. I’d love to go on and on about it and have often bored people to tears on the subject):

The blue hole isn’t blue. It is gray, even under a clear sky; just a quiet pond in the woods. Any of the village boys could skip a stone across it, but they never do. They don’t go near the blue hole because a monster lives at the bottom. The fisherman even claims he has seen it; the fisherman who drinks a bottle of rum a day.