Prologue

PROLOGUE

brOOKLYN—DECEMBER

H olden Scott turned the final corner, walking briskly up his quiet Brooklyn street, headed toward the brownstone he'd rented for the past five years. Usually, he had his cell phone in hand, dictating into it as he walked each morning. He had read a few years ago that movement sparked creativity and had taken to talking into his phone on his walks. Holden dictated story ideas. Character sketches. Even entire scenes. He faithfully transcribed everything once he arrived home, no longer struggling to recall a plot point or witty line of dialogue. The habit had made him a much more efficient, productive writer.

No. Author. Anyone could be a writer, but an author was someone who saw his work published. Thankfully, he'd had success out of the gate, one of the fortunate few who did.

He had come out of the renown Iowa Writers' Workshop with a completed novel, immediately pitching it to several New York agents recommended to him by Dr. Ingram, one of his favorite professors in the program. Evan McGill had quickly signed Holden and gotten him a high, six-figure deal for that novel. Capitol Crimes had been an instant bestseller, and Evan had then sold the book's rights to a major Hollywood studio, where up-and-coming director Wolf Ramirez turned it into a blockbuster hit.

Holden had wanted to do something completely different his second time. Where his first novel had been a thriller with a ticking time bomb plot, the second was a murder mystery set in a quiet Texas town close to Austin. Hill Country Homicide had released to excellent reviews and had sold briskly over the last year. Evan was now fielding offers from studios to also turn it into a movie.

He jogged up the stairs to the brownstone, inserting his key in the lock. "I'm home," he called, secretly hoping no one would answer.

Locking the door behind him, he went to the kitchen, chugging a bottle of water he'd left on the counter so it wouldn't be so cold going down.

Madison wasn't home, for which he was grateful. Things were no longer working between them, at least, romantically. They had met at the Iowa Writers' Workshop, a two-year residency program, and become fast friends from day one, sharing their writing with one another and offering critiques. When the workshop ended and they'd graduated with their Master of Fine Arts degrees, their relationship was just heating up. Since Madison was from Scarsdale, she told Holden they should move to New York together. She had been the one to find the brownstone for them to rent, and they had moved in with high hopes for both their careers and their relationship.

Unfortunately, Madison had yet to sell anything. Although he used to read every word she wrote, he'd seen nothing from her in over a year now. On the other hand, she gave him excellent notes, some of which he implemented into his manuscripts. He had told her she would make a fine editor and encouraged her to pursue the editorial end of the literary business. Her temper had flared, and she had told him she was a creative, not a hack who edited others' work.

That had been the moment he sensed the shift between them.

From then on, she'd kept her work to herself, disappearing for hours each day with her laptop. She told him she went to different places to write. Coffeehouses. Benches in Central Park. The public library. Holden had no idea if she really spent her time writing, especially because he'd seen train tickets in the trash to places beyond the city and the clothes on her side of the closet continued to increase.

They had started out splitting everything equally, him drawing from the advance he'd received on his novel, while she had freely accepted money from her wealthy family. Eventually, he had taken over paying the rent and all the bills, not wanting to accept any money from her parents since he disagreed violently with their politics and lifestyle. The three days they'd recently spent with her family in Scarsdale over Christmas had cemented the fact that he never wanted to be a part of the Parmalee family.

He knew Madison wanted to get married from the numerous hints she had been dropping recently, but Holden hadn't been ready to put a ring on it, especially since he felt them drifting apart. At this point, he felt nothing romantic toward her. She had become no more than a roommate that he was subsidizing.

Today needed to be the day to end things with her. It wasn't fair to keep the status quo any longer when he knew they didn't have a future together. They would both get a fresh start. Their breakup might even help spur Madison's writing.

Leaving her the brownstone would be his best move. Their lease ended at the beginning of March. She could either renew the lease on her own or find another place to live. Or a job. She had resisted his encouragement to find at least part-time work.

Holden showered and toweled off, wrapping the towel around his waist as he shaved. He had just finished brushing his teeth when his cell rang. Glancing down, he was pleasantly surprised to see Wolf Ramirez calling to FaceTime. The director was only in his mid-thirties and had a stellar reputation in Hollywood, both as a kind man and a professional who delivered strong films. They'd become friends during the filming of Capitol Crimes and spoke occasionally.

Picking up his phone, he tapped it. "Hey, Wolf. What's going on with you?"

"Quite a bit since we last spoke, my friend. I'm striking out on my own. I've formed my own production company, Holden."

He went to the den, taking a seat. "That's fantastic, Wolf. Will Ana be a part of running things?"

His friend smiled. "You know my wife is the real brains in our family. With her accounting background, she'll definitely keep the books—and keep my budget requests in line. Ana is also very organized, so she'll share co-producer credits with me on all productions. She'll handle everything from scouting locations to helping with casting to finding the right food trucks. And my brother Rey is a lawyer. He's already set up the company for us and will serve as its general counsel."

"I couldn't be happier for you, Wolf. You won't have to worry about the big boys coming to you in the future. Instead, you can go after the projects which truly interest you."

"Funny you should mention that," Wolf said, a gleam in his eyes. "I haven't seen in the trades where Hill Country Homicide has been optioned yet. I'd like to step in and bid on it and make it the first film from WEBA Productions. I've lived in the Hill Country my entire life. I know these people, Holden. I can make this film sing.

"I know you've been well compensated in the past, but after the success of Capitol Crimes and the strong sales with book two, Evan has set the bar pretty high as far as bidding goes.

"That's why I'm calling you first and not your agent. No, I can't afford to buy the rights to your novel at the price a large studio could fork over. What I can guarantee, however, is giving you percentage points from the profits."

Holden whistled. "That's an intriguing offer. Especially because the movie version of Capitol Crimes did so well."

"I can't promise my film of Hill Country Homicide would generate the kind of profit our first effort together did. It's a completely different story. A totally different audience. But to sweeten the pot? I have an idea that I hope you'll go for." Wolf paused. "I want you to write the script for it, Holden."

The director's words took him aback.

"I've never had any experience with screenplays," he blurted out. "The only thing I know about them is that one page of script equals one minute of film. Homicide is about three hundred and fifty pages long. I don't know if I'm up to the challenge of trimming it down to a hundred pages or less."

"One thing you are is a master of description, my friend. You set a scene incredibly well. Your readers can see it crystal-clear in their minds. You also describe your characters at length. Visually, a film allows an audience member to see that scene and character, taking it all in within seconds. That alone would help you cut down on pages. You came on set before. You know how things work."

He shook his head. "Seeing how they work and actually doing that work? I'm not sure, Wolf. It's way out of my wheelhouse."

They fell silent, and he knew his friend was giving him a chance to mull over the offer. Holden made an instant decision, one which he hoped he wouldn't regret.

"I've just finished my third novel. Given the last of it to Madison to read. That means I'm between projects. What if we worked on the screenplay together?" he offered.

The director nodded enthusiastically. "You know the characters and story better than anyone. You could take the first pass at it. I could read over and make my tweaks. Yes, that would work." He hesitated. "I don't want this kind of thing happening long distance, though. Yes, it's easy to email back and forth, but I like what we did with our first project."

Wolf referred to the three days they'd spent together, talking about Holden's story and characters, allowing the director to soak up everything firsthand from the author before shooting anything.

"Would you consider coming to Texas? Your murder mystery happens in a small town here. We could talk things over, and then you could write the first draft. You're welcome to stay at the ranch. Ana and the kids would like that."

"I could come for a few days and talk things to death with you, Wolf, but then I'd need to have my own place. I'm better when I have no one around. No distractions."

"Will you bring Madison with you?" the director asked.

"Ironically, you've called on the day I've decided to end things with her. We've been in a rut for a long time. If I clear out of the brownstone and come to Texas, I think it would help it be a clean break."

"I'm sorry things did not work out." Wolf didn't look sorry at all. "At least you figured that out before you married her. Divorce can be messy, my friend. Especially if children are involved."

Knowing the chance to leave and stay at Meadow Creek Ranch made Holden say, "I'll call Evan now and tell him that I want to sell the rights to you for the price you name. Make it fair, Wolf. I'll also tell him that I'll be writing the screenplay."

"You'll receive a salary for that, as well as what I can give you, point-wise." Wolf smiled. "I look forward to working with you, my friend. Maybe our partnership will yield several films to come."

"Wait to hear from Evan," Holden said. "But from my end? It's a go. I'll let you know when I'm heading to the ranch."

He went and dressed, hanging his towel neatly, ignoring the one Madison had left on the floor. It was only one of a hundred little things she did which bothered him. He knew a part of their problem had been that she came from money, and he hadn't. The Parmalees had maids to pick up towels off the floor and launder them, while his family had barely scraped by. If he hadn't won a scholarship to college, he would most likely be laying bricks or driving a truck now instead of being an author.

Going to his desk, he sat, calling Evan.

"I was just about to call you, Holden," his agent said when he answered. "It's been a good day to represent you. I have four different offers to bring you regarding Homicide . Two are preferable, but I always like to let you hear all the players vying for you work and make an informed decision."

"Save your breath, Evan. I've already promised the book to Wolf Ramirez."

"What studio is Wolf attached to? No one pitched him as the director in our negotiations."

"He's striking out on his own and is starting up his own production company. Wolf wants Hill Country Homicide to be the first film he directs for it."

"I like Wolf, Holden. You know that. I know the two of you have become friends, but you've got to think with your head and not your heart. He won't have the kind of financial backing that a major studio does."

"I don't care. He's promised me a healthy percentage of the profits if I'll sell the rights to him at a lower price."

Evan was quiet a moment, and Holden could almost hear the agent run the numbers in his head. He knew this was a big ask. Not only would he take a big cut, but Evan would also lose money if they sold the screen rights to Wolf.

" Homicide is selling extremely well. I don't think it'll do the box office numbers of Capitol Crimes , though. You have to take that into consideration. Points or no points."

"Wolf has also offered me the opportunity to write the screenplay, Evan. I want to do this. Wolf gets me. I know this cutting a deal with him eats away at your percentage, but it's what I want."

"We've already made good money together. I see that continuing in the future. If you were my only client, I might be pissed, but I have other lines out there. Would I have wished to sell it to a big studio and claim a huge payday? Of course. In the long run, though, I want a happy client so that I have a happy life. If writing this screenplay challenges and inspires you, then I'm all for it. I'm definitely into the idea of sharing points. Because we'll be dealing with a fledgling company, I have way more leverage in the negotiations."

"Wolf's brother Reynaldo Ramirez is his attorney. Rey will be hammering out the contracts with you. I suggest you call Wolf and get the ball rolling."

"I'll do that now. I suppose he'll want you down in Texas since he's based there. After you write the screenplay, he's certain to film in Texas, as well, since the book is set there." Evan paused. "How will that go over with Madison? Have you run this by her yet?"

"Madison doesn't figure into my life anymore. We're done. I'm going to tell her today."

"Good luck with that," Evan said. "That is one woman who doesn't like to hear the word no."

Madison had wanted Evan to also represent her, but he had refused to do so, saying he didn't want any conflict of interest, with Holden being whom he'd originally signed. She had begged, wheedled, cajoled, and finally screamed at the agent, demanding he sign her, which had embarrassed and angered Holden. Evan had remained firm, however. Madison had found representation, but she had since gone through three different agents and had no one repping her interests at the moment.

He spent the rest of the day scouring the Internet, reading everything he could about writing a screenplay. There was no time to enroll in classes. He'd have to learn on the fly.

Taking out his leather-bound copy of the screenplay for Capitol Crimes which Wolf had gifted to him, Holden read the first twenty pages of it and compared it to his novel, seeing how his work had been condensed. He would have to really give things some thought. Perhaps use a few composite characters. Already, though, ideas were swirling in his head, and the thought of authoring the screenplay for his novel excited him.

About four, he heard the front door open and knew Madison was home. He went to greet her, seeing her place her messenger bag on the kitchen counter.

"How was your day?" he asked, his gut churning with the news he was about to give her. "Any good pages written today?"

"I really think I'm on to something, Holden," she said brightly. "I've gone through a long dry spell lately, but I got a really interesting idea today and ran with it. I wrote twenty pages. Twenty!"

A great day for Madison was usually five pages, so he nodded enthusiastically. "That's wonderful."

"Did you start anything new yet?" she asked, opening the fridge and removing a sparkling water. She popped the top and took a big swig before setting the can on the counter.

He swallowed. "I've told Evan to sell the film rights of Hill Country Homicide to Wolf Ramirez."

She looked at him quizzically. "To Wolf?" Then a knowing looking crossed her features. "He's started his own production company, hasn't he?"

"He has. We're eager to work together again."

Frowning, she said, "He won't be able to pay you nearly what you deserve. I've been reading the trades, and I know what Evan can get for the rights. No, Holden. Call both of them back. Cancel the deal."

He couldn't believe what she was saying. Looking steadily at her, he told her, "It's my novel, Madison. My decision. I want to work with Wolf. In fact, I'm going to write the screenplay for the film."

Astonishment filled her face. "Are you serious? You have zero experience with writing a script. If you want to torpedo your own reputation and his, that's the fastest way to do so."

Her words let him know he was doing the right thing by splitting with her. Where once, Madison had been supportive, now she was demanding and spiteful. "You don't believe I can do it?"

She looked at him in exasperation. "What I'm saying is you're a fool if you walk away from the kind of money Evan can get you for this book. Stick with what you do best, Holden. Writing novels is your forte."

Her words assured him that he was making the right decision. "It's my book. My choice. And I'll be going to Texas." Holden paused. "It's not working between us, Madison. It hasn't for a while now. With me being in Texas to write the screenplay and staying there during filming, this is the right time for us to end things."

Red blotches of anger stained her cheeks. "You don't get to decide that. We're getting married, Holden. You're going to keep writing books. You'll make enough for us to leave this dump and move to a nice high rise in Manhattan. We'll?—"

"There's no we anymore, Madison. Listen to what I'm saying. We're not happy."

"We are," she insisted.

" I'm not happy," he said with brutal honesty, trying to get through to her. "We had some good years, but it's over now."

Out of nowhere, she slapped him, so hard that he saw stars.

"You mean I'm not some bestselling novelist. You're embarrassed by me."

"No," he said firmly. "I think you're talented. I hope you'll get a break. And I wouldn't care if you were a trash collector or a plastic surgeon. I'm not breaking up with you because you aren't published, Madison." He hesitated but knew he had to cut all ties. "I simply don't love you anymore."

Holden wasn't sure if he ever had. They'd had writing in common. She had seemed so sophisticated and exciting when they'd first met, but he'd grown bored with the airs she put on. Actually, he'd grown tired of living in New York. The call of home sounded loudly within him. He'd thought leaving Texas was the best thing he'd ever done. Now, he could see it was the place which would always be home.

She huffed, anger sparking in her eyes. "You are nothing but trailer park trash, Holden Scott. You might have made good money from a couple of books, but you'll never fit in with people who have good breeding."

"I agree," he told her. "Your parents have made it perfectly clear that you could do better than me. Go find your kind of people to be with, Madison."

"Get out!" she screamed at him.

"Gladly. Give me ten minutes."

Holden went to pack, filling two suitcases and his backpack. Madison hovered at the doorway to the bedroom, glaring at him as he did so. The brownstone had come furnished, so all he really needed were his clothes and his laptop, along with a few books.

Facing her, he said, "The rent is paid through the end of February. You can renew the lease or move. It's up to you."

He pushed past her as she shouted profanities at him the entire way. When he reached the door, he removed the key from his pocket and tossed it on the table. Without another word, Holden walked through the door, ready to start a new chapter in his life.