My throat closed, and I choked as I tried to speak again. “Joss . . . I’ll never forget you. I promise. Not as long as I live.”
“That’s the best promise you could make me, lover.” She winked and then looked behind her again. “You know, the most precious things they let us bring with us across the divide are our memories, and you and I made a shit ton of them during our time together, didn’t we? I’m going to hold tight to those until we see each other again.”
“And we will. I’m sure of it.” I reached toward her out of instinct, but she was mostly faded by now. “Joss—”
She was only a hint of mist now. Her wide smile was the last thing I saw, and her final words echoed in my ears as a mere whisper.
“I’ll always love you, Rafe. Always.”
Tasmyn
Hello, fellow savers of the world!
You know, we need a cooler name than that. The Avengers are already taken, but we should be able to come up with something. Lucas, you’re the creative one. Get to work on that.
I know we all agreed these group emails were stupid, but how else do we keep up with each other? We can’t exactly post on social media, can we?
I miss you all. I know that’s crazy, because I went a lifetime without knowing some of you and years without seeing the rest. But I do. Michael tells me it’s because we were all in the trenches together, and that we build stronger bonds there. Maybe he’s right.
Okay, that’s the cheesy sentimental part of this missive. Now onto the news. I’m putting my update first, and then everyone else can add theirs by their name and pass it on.
Tasmyn and Michael: The nursery is crazy busy right now. Lela moved back to King for good, and she’s been helping with the retail end of things, which is helpful. We’re glad she’s here, because . . . in January, I’m going to be out of commission for a while when the next generation of Sawyers makes her debut. I’m fine, baby looks healthy, and we’re all beyond thrilled. I’ve been trying to play with my magic a little more, too. See, Nell, I do listen sometimes.
Will you all come visit in, say, March, so you can meet the new one? Or maybe it would be more fitting if we all gathered in April . . . specifically, April 7th. I’d say we should go back to San Francisco, but instead, I’m going to play the new mommy card and ask you to come here. Let’s consider it. Love you all.
Rafe and Nell: Tas, you’re right. This is stupid and cheesy. But okay, here goes our update (from Rafe, because Nell says she doesn’t do group emails). We’re both fine. We visited Tasmyn and Michael when we spent a week in King to see my grandparents and check out Alyse’s cemetery stone. It was an emotional visit in many ways, but it was healing, too. Grams and Gramps threw us a big family party to celebrate our marriage, and the Bradors were all in attendance—and to our total shock, so was Nell’s father. I won’t say everything is forgiven and forgotten, but it meant something.
Beyond that, we’ve been busy with work, tracking down the regular badness out there, now that the Hive isn’t keeping us on the run. We’ve also been looking for Liesel and Diego, but no sign of those two yet. We’re sure they’ll turn up sooner rather than later. PS—Congratulations, Tas and Michael. You’ll make great parents. And we’re both on board with a gathering in April in King.
Lucas and Jackie: Tasmyn, don’t listen to Rafe. This is a great idea. I miss you all, too! But it’s been a little bit insane here, as well. The diner is running along well, and Charlie and I have really begun to dive into the catering aspect of the business. Lucas says that with all the extra time he has now that he’s not researching the end of the world, his book is nearly finished. It’s a vampire tale. Go figure. ;)
Tas, plan on us visiting after Baby Sawyer is born! We can’t wait to meet her. April sounds good. The last morning Henry was with us, he and I discussed the idea of having a huge party to celebrate once we’d stopped the Hive. I know none of us were up for that before we went our separate ways, but maybe the one-year mark would be the perfect time to make it happen. I could make some of his favorite recipes, and in that way, Henry would be with us still.
Cathryn and Seamus: Tasmyn, I appreciate your initiative, and since some of you (and you know who you are) are not wonderful about checking in, of course I’m glad to read the updates, particularly yours. Best wishes on the new addition—keep us posted on how you’re doing. I’m well, and so is Seamus. As most of you know, we spent three months after . . . well, after, in Ireland. It was peaceful and healing for me. Coming back to Harper Creek wasn’t easy, and I miss Henry every day. But work keeps me busy. Yes, the Hive is gone, but I’m remembering that we had jobs before we realized the world’s future was threatened by them. Veronica has been incredibly helpful, and I’m glad to have her here with us. We miss you all. Please come visit us when you can. We will definitely plan to reunite in April in King. Jackie, Henry would love your idea.
Veronica: As everyone has said, I miss you all. I’m adding a picture of Paige’s grave below, which I know is a bit maudlin, but I thought you should all see it. It brought me a measure of peace to visit her there, and I actually spoke to one of her family members when I was in Wisconsin, a cousin who remembered both Paige and Donald. Both of their timelines were essentially unchanged from the original; Donald was unhinged by the memory of his sister’s death, and he lived in various mental facilities until he had the stroke. He died in the nursing home outside of San Francisco, just as he did before. A sad ending for a tragic figure who was used by evil men and women, but I take comfort in knowing that we thwarted their grandest plans.
Congratulations, Tas and Michael! This is wonderful and healing news, too. May I suggest that Veronica is a lovely name and not in much use anymore . . . also, I make an excellent godmother. Ahem.
Daeglan and Sionnach: Sionnach, like Nell, refused to add our update, so here it is, typed up fast from the bar just before opening. We’re back home in Ireland, and the pub is humming along, even without the daily input from Seamus, who has mostly decamped to the States, the louse. Joking, of course, brother. Cillian and I are soldiering on, and Sionnach is basing her business here now, making our home her new base. Door is open for anyone who comes to visit, even those who bring a squalling infant with them. Sionnach did ask me to add this: Tas, don’t listen to Veronica—foxes make the best godparents and Sionnach is an absolutely unique name. Huh. I’m just the messenger.
Cillian: Everything is fine. Daeglan told you about the pub, and I’m okay, too.
Colby and Joy: Hello! I’m so glad to hear from you all. I miss you, but I know you’re going to come visit, because if you don’t, I will totally hunt you down. Well, I will once I’ve delivered this kid. I’m big as a house and Colby says I’m grumpy all the time, but I say it takes one to know one. He’s fine. Well, he’s more than fine, but you don’t want to hear all that. If you do, call me and I’ll talk your ear off. I love living on the farm, and I love being married to Colby . . . I’m finishing up my classes at the local junior college, but it turns out, I have an affinity for cows, and I might be changing my course of study to animal husbandry. I know, can you believe it? The city girl becomes a farmer. Weird.
It might be the pregnancy hormones talking, but I need to say this: I love you all. I never had a real family, so I’m officially adopting each and every one of you as my sisters, brothers and aunties. Come see me, please. When the baby finally comes, we’re going to have a huge party, and I want you all there. You’re my people, You’re my tribe. I’m not hijacking Tasmyn’s idea, which I think is perfect, but I can’t wait that long to see you again.
OH—Seth was here last week. He says he’s got another mission now, but he also promised he’d be here when the baby comes. He says I’m his favorite, and I trust him. He sends you all oodles of love. Well, the oodles part comes from me, but he does love you all, too.
Hey, Veronica and Sionnach—if I name the baby after you, can I get in on this godparent deal? Just kidding. We already know what we’re naming her—Norri
e Paige, after the aunt she’ll never know and a girl who didn’t get the chance to live a full life. And each and every one of you is her godparent. Deal with that.
Xxx ooo
I grinned at the last line. Joy’s exuberance fairly shone out of her words, and I was so glad she’d found her place in the world, on a farm with the man who had once upon a time been her protector. I had a feeling that these days, they were keeping each other safe, as it should be.
I closed the email app on my phone and slid it into my handbag. I was sitting in the car outside the grocery store, but I’d had to read the last group email the minute it hit my inbox. I wasn’t joking . . . I missed them all. We’d been through a life changing experience together, and these men and women would always be important to me.
And the time I’d had with Nell—it had healed a part of me that I hadn’t known was still hurting. While I still didn’t going around using my powers randomly, I wasn’t afraid of them anymore. What I could do, what was extraordinary about me . . . it was part of who I was. I had embraced it, and I was slowly learning to integrate my gifts into my life. I hadn’t quite gotten to the having fun stage yet, but . . . baby steps.
I wandered through the parking lot, stopping to grab a buggy, rolling my eyes when I saw that they were all jammed together. I couldn’t pull the one I wanted free. I nearly crushed my fingers, trying to get it out as I muttered under my breath. And then . . . I had an idea.
With a glance at the offending shopping cart, I used my mind to jerk it away from the others. It rolled toward me, and I glanced around, hoping no one had noticed.
No one had, and no one cared.
I got brave then, and one by one, I began to free the buggies, tugging them out and replacing them in an orderly fashion, working until they looked neat. They all moved in concert, like a synchronized swimming team, only this one was in a parking lot. A sense of lightness filled me . . . Nell was absolutely right. That had been fun.
“Whoa!” One of the baggers approached me. “Uh . . . did you see that?”
I blinked, my heart beating faster. “See what?”
“The buggies. They . . . it was like they were moving by themselves.” He frowned, his forehead wrinkling in consternation. “Like . . . magic. But it couldn’t be, right? Everyone knows there’s no such thing as magic.”
I steered my own cart around the young man and patted his shoulder as I passed. “Really? Hmm. I don’t think I can agree with you. It seems to me wondrous things are happening everywhere, every day.” I flashed him a blinding smile.
“After all, what fun is life without a little magic in it?”
The End
I’ve told this story before—the history of how Age of Aquarius came to be.
Once upon a time, I wrote paranormal books. I thought that was what I would always write, and then I wrote The Posse, and from there on, my release schedule was heavily skewed toward con rom.
I’m not sorry about that decision, because I love my con rom stories and characters, but at times, I’ve missed my paranormal people. This is why every Halloween, I release a new Recipe for Death book. It keeps my hand in.
Shortly after I began writing contemporary romance, my two youngest kids (then 12 and 17) asked me to consider writing an apocalyptic story that they would feel comfortable reading (that means–don’t put any sex in it, Mom!). I laughed and said I didn’t have a story like that . . . but then I remembered the dream.
I don’t know when I had the dream, but it was at least four years ago. In it, I saw a group of people on the porch of a big house in San Francisco. They were gathered together on the eve of a huge battle against an evil force. I didn’t know anything more about it than there was an air of St. Crispin’s Day there–
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother;
There was a feeling that they knew it was possible that they would never be together like this again, a sort of desperate gaiety . . . but a solidarity, too. None of them regretted being there. And I also knew that one of the women was pregnant.
I never remember my dreams, but this one stuck with me. And I realized that it was part of a greater story, one I’d already begun writing.
Thus was born the Save Tomorrow books.
I’ve been writing this book for a long time. Pieces of the last chapters were written very early, and then other bits came along here and there. Joy and Colby came along sooner rather than later, too. But the entire story slowly unfolded, eventually. When I realized the timing of my release schedule would mean this book couldn’t be released before 2017—which coincidentally, is the 50th anniversary of the Summer of Love—I decided that a momentous book needed a momentous date: my fiftieth birthday, which just happened to fall . . . on April 7, 2017.
While I am not at all a numerologist, I was curious about some repeating numbers that surrounded this particular date in history. The number 7 is the number of completeness and perfection. The number 17 stands for overcoming the enemy and complete victory. And 4 often represents creation and new creation. All of this played very closely into themes of the Save Tomorrow story.
I would also like to acknowledge another influence on this story, which I discovered five years ago. It was an article in Vanity Fair’s July issue of 2012, and it was called “Suddenly That Summer.” I’d grown up hearing about the Summer of Love; my family moved to the San Joaquin Valley, about forty-five minutes away from San Francisco, in the spring of 1971, only four years after that momentous summer. But this article told me more about the feel and the atmosphere of those incredible months than a lifetime of listening had. I highly recommend it.
Huge and wondrous thanks and big love to my dear Krissy Smith, who created the comprehensive Book Bible from which I wrote this book. Some of it is included at the beginning of this book, but trust me, it was even more extensive. I narrowed it down to the main characters involved here for our purposes.
My tremendous thanks go to Meg Murrey for creating this outstanding cover and to Stacey Blake of Champagne Formats (and my sister in fifty-ness!) for making the interior really groovy.
My amazing Temptresses encouraged me during some really trying times. Special love to Christy Durbin who gave me this spring’s mantra: What’s hard by a yard is a cinch by the inch. Amen!
Thank you to the beta readers who really outdid themselves to help me here: Dawn Line, Kara Schilling, Niki Mattes, Yvonne Farmer and Leanne Roberts. I adore you all!
Love to Mandie and Olivia, who kept saying I could do it and then didn’t let me quit. And appreciation to my family who put up with me during the gritty and ugly days of almost-to-the-end writing.
For Cate and David . . . I know this took forever, but I hope you enjoy it. I love you both, and it is my privilege to be your mother. I hope when you are fifty, you might look back and remember these days with fondness.
Or Songs By Which We Saved the World
I See Fire Ed Sheeran
San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Some Flowers in Your Hair) Scott McKenzie
Demons Imagine Dragons
I Will Follow You RIVVRS
Into The Mystic Colin James
The Day the World Went Away Nine Inch Nails
Uprising Muse
Rhiannon Fleetwood Mac
Age of Aquarius The Fifth Dimension
Spirits The Strumbellas
Down on Me Janis Joplin
Apocalypse Please Muse
Déjà Vu Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young
Not Ready to Die Avenged Sevenfold
San Francisco Ingrid Michaelson
Gypsy Fleetwood Mac
Kozmic Blues Janis Joplin
Other Books
The King Series
Fearless
Breathless
Restless
Endless
The King Series Boxset
The Seredipity Series
Undeniable
Unquenchable
The Shadow Bells
Recipe for Death Series
Death Fricassee
Unforgettable
Death A La Mode
Death Over Easy
Moonlight on the Meadow
The Fox’s Wager
Crystal Cove Books
The Posse
The Plan
The Path
The One Trilogy
The Last One
The First One
The Only One
The One Trilogy Box Set
The Always Love Series
Always For You
Underneath My Christmas Tree
Always My Own
My One and Always
Always Our Love
The Perfect Dish Series
Best Served Cold
Just Desserts
I Choose You
Keeping Score
When We Were Us
Hanging By A Moment
Days of You and Me
Photo by Heather Batchelder
Tawdra Kandle writes romance, in just about all its forms. She loves unlikely pairings, strong women, sexy guys, hot love scenes and just enough conflict to make it interesting. Her books run from YA paranormal romance through NA paranormal and contemporary romance to adult contemporary and paramystery romance. She lives in central Florida with a husband, kids, sweet pup and too many cats. And yeah, she rocks purple hair.
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Age of Aquarius Page 33
