House of Salt and Sorrows - Erin A. Craig Page 0,129
it to truly be him, not a fantasy haunting my eyes as he did my heart. It wasn’t him. It couldn’t be.
But he looked so very real.
A seagull cried out overhead, and for one intoxicating moment, the stars seemed to glow brighter, dazzling the sky with an unnatural luster. A small sliver of hope sparked inside me, burning brightly. Had Versia received my wish? Was that shooting star for me?
“Cassius?” I dared to whisper, half certain this was a dream.
Don’t wake up….
When he moved, wading into deeper water, my breath caught in the hollow of my throat. He wasn’t going to reach me. He’d open his mouth, but I’d never hear his words. I would wake up in the watch room of Old Maude, all alone, all over again. My heart panged in anticipation of the painful disappointment to come.
Don’t wake up….
With a smile that began deep in his sparkling eyes, Cassius pulled me into a close embrace. I ran my hands over his arms in wonder. They were impossibly covered in smooth skin, without a trace of burns.
It was a dream. It had to be.
Then he ran his thumb across my cheek. His eyes were bright with a heated joy, and his lips parted, about to speak.
Don’t wake up!
When I didn’t, I reached up, my fingertips tracing the back of his neck, feeling his curls against them. Cassius released a murmur of pleasure before sweeping me into a kiss. His mouth was soft against mine before his arms tightened around me, pulling me into a more intimate kiss, a sweeter ache.
“You still taste like the Salt,” he whispered.
“Is this actually happening?” I breathed. “Are you really here?”
Cassius nodded. “I’m really here.”
“For how long?”
His grin deepened. “For as long as you’ll have me.”
My fingers trembled as I cupped his face, looking up to meet his eyes. I wanted to memorize everything about this miracle in front of me. “Truly?” He nodded. “How?”
“Of all the wishes tonight, yours was almost the loudest, nearly the most hopeful.” He smiled. “The second easiest to grant.”
A chorus of splashes sounded from the shoreline. We turned and saw a dozen small sea turtles paddling into the sea, swimming out into open water. One brushed my leg, giving my ankle a friendly tap with his flippers before heading off into the blue unknown.
“Almost?” I asked, looking up at the night sky. Starlight rained down around us, and I couldn’t imagine a more achingly perfect moment than the one I was in now, nestled between the stars and the salt with the man I loved, who was equal parts both.
“There was only one louder,” he murmured before his lips descended once more. “Mine.”
Shortly after my daughter was born, I set out to write House of Salt and Sorrows. Juggling a notebook and pen with a snuggly, sprawled-out baby might not seem like the best way to create a story, but my heart spills over with love whenever I remember those peaceful afternoons in her nursery. Grace, thank you for your patience and for being with me every step of this journey, from jotting down the first words to helping me drop my contract into the mailbox and pronouncing it “Good, good!” Watching your love of books, typewriters, and pink Post-its grow is truly one of my favorite things in life. I’m so proud to be your mama.
Sarah Landis, thank you for seeing something special in me and my words and knowing what on earth to do with them. You are amazing, and I’m so lucky to have you as my agent.
A huge wave of gratitude to Wendy Loggia, Audrey Ingerson, Alison Impey, Noreen Herits, Candy Gianetti, and everyone at Delacorte Press for your time and care with this book. Wendy, I’m still squealing with glee and am so darn grateful my book is in your capable hands. Fairy shoes for everyone!
I’d like to thank Jason Huebinger and #PitDark for such a wild whirlwind. I never thought one little tweet could change the world, but it certainly did mine.
To all of my dear family and friends, beta readers, and agency sibs—Jonathan Ealy, Sarah Squire, Sona Amroyan, Charlene Honeycutt, Maxine Gurr, Susan Booker, Scott Kennedy, Kaylan Brakora, Jenni Bagwell, Jeannie Hilderbrand, Kate Costello, Peter Diseth, Jeni Chappelle, Jennie K. Brown, Jessica Rubinkowski, Shelby Mahurin, Ron Walters, Meredith Tate, and Julie Abe: I couldn’t ask for a cooler group of people to go on this journey with! Your support and laughter mean everything to me. Thank you!
So much love and gratitude to Jessica Hahn, who taught me everything I know about the history of dress and design. I owe you so many sparkling ball gowns.
Hannah Whitten, you magnificent creature. I think you’ve read this book almost as many times as I have! I can’t imagine doing any of this without you—and furthermore, I wouldn’t want to. You are incredible, and I’m lucky to have you for a critique partner and friend!
To my sister, Tara Whipkey: you’ve been reading my stories for as long as I’ve been writing them. Thank you for afternoons racing around the log cabin, imagining we were mermaids or the Boxcar Children, for talking about my characters like they are real people, and for being the best sister a girl could ever ask for. You are a true joy, and I love you like crazy!
Paul, you are my always. Thank you for believing in me, for making me a tasty breakfast every morning, and for never believing me when I say we can go to a bookstore “just to look around.” I’m so blessed to have you for my husband and best friend.
This book would not exist without my parents, Cyndi and Bob Whipkey, who filled my childhood with Margie the Monkey, Anne of Green Gables, and all the girls from the Baby-Sitters Club. Thank you for every trip to the library, for endless batteries and flashlights to read under the covers with, and for never telling me my dreams were too big or wild. I love you so much.