Search and Rescue Series
spoiler: One of the bit characters in Book 3, Gone Too Deep, is a moose. A scary, scary moose.
“Scary?” you may scoff.
“Moose aren’t scary. They’re cute, peaceful herbivores, like a bunny. Are you
afraid of bunnies, too?”
[First of all, to
address the bunny comment, I have just two words (from Monty Python and the Holy Grail): “Run away!”]
Let me tell you why
moose are the animals of my nightmares. Last spring, I was running along a
Forest Service road in Montana, not long after writing the moose scene. The sun
was just rising, not quite penetrating the thickly treed areas on both sides of
the road (and I use the word “road” loosely; it was more of a rutted, two-track
of a trail, one that someone could drive on only if highly motivated and in a
vehicle that he/she did not care for much).
As I rounded a curve, I
stopped. There was a large, dark shape standing in the road about seventy-five
feet in front of me. At first, squinting through the grey dawn light, I thought
a horse had gotten loose. The ungainly body shape wasn’t right for a horse,
though.
Then it dawned on me—it
was a moose.
I must admit that my
heartrate increased a little. Backing away slowly, I mentally ran through all
the moose research I’d done before writing the scene. If they licked their
lips, that was a bad sign. Same with the hair going up on their backs.
Unfortunately, I’d have to get way too close to see either of those things. In
the meantime, the moose stood between me and my breakfast.
There was one helpful
tidbit that I finally remembered. Moose, with their bulky, awkward bodies, have
trouble making sharp turns. Still moving slowly, I inched toward the rise on
the north side of the road. As I climbed, keeping a wary eye on the moose, I
put several trees between us and then continued to walk parallel to the road.
As I drew closer, I
could see that the moose appeared to be younger—not a baby, but half-grown-ish.
After watching me curiously (or maybe angrily? Hungrily? Hangrily?) for a few
moments, he walked into the trees—in the other direction—and disappeared.
After a few minutes and
no sign that the moose was returning, I returned to the road, mostly because my
loathing for ticks overpowered my moose wariness. As I started jogging again, I
kept my gaze locked on the spot where the animal had entered the woods.
A grunt to my right made
me turn my head. There was a very large moose cow—mama-moose, I presume—less
than six feet away from me.
I didn’t even consider
what to do or what my characters had or should have done—I just ran. Suddenly,
I was on top of the ridge to the north with no memory of how I got there. I’m
pretty sure I left a cartoon-worthy puff of dust where I’d been standing when I
spotted the second moose.
Therefore, having been
much, much too close to a representative
of the species, I can tell you with certainty that moose are indeed scary.
Really, really scary.
Ready for more Rocky Mountain adventures? The first book in my
Search and Rescue series, Hold Your Breath, will be out on April 5th.
In the remote Rocky Mountains, lives
depend on the Search & Rescue brotherhood. But in a place this far off the
map, trust is hard to come by and secrets can be murder…
As
the captain of Field County’s ice rescue dive team, Callum Cook is driven to
perfection. But when he meets new diver Louise “Lou” Sparks, all that hard-won
order is obliterated in an instant. Lou is a
hurricane. A walking disaster. And with her, he’s never felt more alive…even if
keeping her safe may just kill him.
Lou’s
new to the Rockies, intent on escaping her controlling ex, and she’s determined
to make it on her own terms…no matter how
tempting Callum may be. But when a routine training exercise unearths a body,
Lou and Callum find themselves thrust into a deadly game of cat and mouse with
a killer who will stop at nothing to silence Lou—and prove that not even her
new Search and Rescue family can keep her safe forever.
Oh, my gosh! That's wonderful, Katie. I'm laughing so hard. This is going to be a fabulous book. Welcome and congrats on the release.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Shane! I laughed, too--as soon as I was in a moose-free zone.
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