Queen Takes Bishop, book two in the Renegade Writers Series

By Sandra Golden

Julianna gathers her group of Author friends, and together they invent Manipulative Fiction and become the secret club they call The Renegade Writers Club. Using all their resources they now are helping their friend Abbie Forrester. She discovers that her birth family is hiding some secrets. Abbie decides that the best way to keep track of her players is to confine them on a cruise ship. The fun starts before they step aboard the ship when The Ghost is discovered and the NSA gets tangled into the renegade writers plans. They move forward keeping the NSA in the dark. They just hope that what they have doesn't put national security at risk. As for their other target, her world is turned upside down, but she has The Ghost looking after her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sandra Golden
• Release date: Oct 8, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463358795

Sandra Golden

I'm a Western Southern Girl, born in California and spent more than half my life in with my husband in Tennessee. I have been married for 36 years. We had one son who was killed when he was 18. I am a animal lover but not telling how many fur babies I have. I love to travel, write, garden, cook, and many crafts. I especially love swimming, taking walks, and the beach. I am a graduate of Memphis State University

Book preview

QUEEN TAKES BISHOP

QUEEN TAKES BISHOP

BOOK TWO

RENEGADE WRITERS CLUB

BY

SANDRA GOLDEN

"You need closure so that you can forget and forgive the hurt of the past and live the joy of the future."

Sandra Golden

"Don’t see it as how much you lost. See it as how much you found, and all that

you have yet to discover"

Sandra Golden

Chapter-Title Page

Prologue

1. Mother, Daughter Reunion

2. Sedona Elizabeth Bishop

3. Brody Bishop

4. Olivia Bishop

5. A Character in her Own Story

6. Bonding with the Bishops

7. The Ghost Strikes

8. Much Needed Support

9. Players Take the Stage

10. Slide of Hand

11. Things go Sideways

12. Busy Day at Sea

13. Closure

14. Ethan and Sedona

15. Sedona Take Down9

16. Trying to Outsmart a Genius

17. Brody Makes his Move

18. Last Day on an Oasis

19. Double the Fun

20. Keeping Track

21. Hearts Reunited

22. Important House Call

23. Constantly on the Move

24. On the Run

25. Hero or Villain, that’s the Question

26. An Engaging Story

27. New Stories to Come

Prologue

I loved this concept, proclaimed Ruth Brazil.

Really? asked Julianne.

Absolutely! Using real people and manipulating them, to something to get you something you want, then twisting things around, and finally writing it as a work of fiction is priceless, and innovating, another member of the group of eight women, Sarah Bradshaw, told their friend.

Everyone was nodding in agreement.

Ruth added, I really think you hit on a new form of story development. One that we should keep quiet about. But definitely an idea we should explore.

Abbigail Forrester was sitting quietly in her seat at the dining room table of Julianne and Samuel Underwood's in sunny Florida. A week before this quarterly meeting of their Women Writer's Club, she had finished reading Julianne's new book Playing It Out! Julianne had announced that she had manipulated real people and set them forth to go down a path of her doing. She let them loose to see where it took them and what they do with the situation. It was scandalous! Especially when Julianne watched the story play out before her, writing everything down, and turning her acts of betrayal into her path for revenge and into her next best seller. This was pure genus! This got Abbie to thinking about the new people in her life.

Julianne turned to Abbie, "Abbie, you've been very quiet. What do you think?

I think you are a genus! Abbie told her with enthusiasm, a bright smile lighting up her face.

Your story gave me some ideas. I've jotted down notes during the plane ride from South Carolina. But now that you told us you manipulated the story, and who your characters really were, that puts a whole new spin to my ideas.

Pepper Reynolds added, I have to confess, for the last few minutes I've been thinking about how I can do the same thing. This idea can even the playing field in some situations.

Yes! Me too! We all have family, or people who need to be taught a lesson about treating people right. I see this as a way to do just that, especially since we all have resources that can be very useful, said another of the group, as she sipped tea and nibbled on a delicious biscotto.

All eight heads were nodding in agreement, and their writer minds were busy thinking, and creating different scenarios as they sat comfortably enjoying the homemade goodies, Julianna had spent all of last week baking.

Julianne told her friends with a slight giggle, And if we create best-selling works, and make money, I see it as a win-win situation, for us anyway.

Everyone laughed and started talking at once, only stopping when Samuel Underwood made an appearance as he walked through his dining room. Sam was Julianne Underwood's husband and the CEO, and owner of Underwood publications, the company that published all their books. The second the chatter stopped, Sam stopped in his tracks and looked around at the eight beautiful ladies of his wives Women Writers Club. A little pet project of his wife's that met every three months to discuss their latest projects, but mostly to enjoy time with their peers and have a little fun.

Hi Sam! eight voices chorused.

Hi ladies! Welcome! he told them flashing a smile, his eyes sparking and mischievous. I'm surprised that you’re not in swim suites and running out the patio doors. Which is a site I will appreciate.

The ladies giggled, and a few blushed.

Sam asked, "What did you ladies think about Julianne's latest story?

LOVED IT! they all said in unison.

The concept is refreshing and fun! Ruth told him.

Abbie added, A creative way to get material.

Sam looked at Julianne, So, you told them how you developed your story?

She sure did! Pepper laughed. We can't wait to hear what Julianne's family thinks of her new best seller.

Sam rolled his eyes. I don't think any of them will read a word of it. But I bet when it gets to the big screen, they might see a resemblance to events in their lives and get a bit upset.

The ladies laughed and began talking again, and Sam escaped into his office. "Please excuse me ladies, but I have work to do.

Julianne got up and kissed Sam. What he means, is that he is about to grab his tablet and his fishing poles and meet his friend at the boat.

You have to agree that there is no better office than being on a big boat on the beautiful Atlantic Ocean, he told their guest. Besides, I can multitask! While I'm waiting for the fish to cooperate, I can read some promising manuscripts.

Yes, my darling, you are very good at multitasking. Julianne smiled and gave her beloved husband a wink. We will all delight in the fresh fish you catch when it's on our plates this evening.

He swiftly kissed his wife and continued his escape through the dining room with a friendly wave to the ladies.

When Sam was safely out of hearing Julianne told her guest, Don't worry girls, I have alternate plans for dinner. Just in case.

I heard that! Sam said moments later when he returned to the dining room, struggling to put his tablet into his overstuffed leather carryall.

Abbie had gotten up to serve herself another cup of tea from the sideboard came to his aid as he tried to juggle the fishing polls, tablet, and his tackle box. His favorite fishing hat having slipped off his head when he bent forward landing at Abbie's feet. She picked it up, and she placed it gently on his head, then took his tablet and placed it in his bag."

Thanks Abby.

You're very welcome. Good Luck!

Don't you ladies have confidence in my skills as a fisherman? he said with a pout.

Julianne went to her husband and gave him a gentle hug. My love, we all have confidence in your abilities. It's the fish that we don't trust, they can be fickle.

Sam nodded, You're right they can be difficult at the best of times. Enjoy your afternoon ladies.

With that Sam dragged his tackle box, and rods out the side door, grabbing the handle of the rolling ice chest, that Julianne had packed for him as he went.

Nice save! Ruth told her friend.

After refilling their cups, the women settled back down into their seats. The room was silent, except for the sound of spoons clicking on the sides of the coffee cups as the ladies stirred in sweetener, or sugar into their tea, or coffee. For a few moments they sipped their drinks, and nibbled on biscotti cookies, or the fresh strawberries, cherries, and grapes that Julianne had placed on the table earlier. Julianne looked around the large table at her friends, and peers and noticed that most of them were somewhere deep in their own minds. If she had to guess, it was about how she had gotten the material for her latest book. They were intrigued about, and a subject that seemed to have become the main focus of their discussion.

Julianne couldn't take the silence any longer. Especially since she knew what they were thinking. She understood writers, and creative people, and knew she had started ideas blowing up in their minds on how they could use this new way of developing a story.

Julianne broke the silence, All right, you creative geniuses, I can see the wheels of your minds turning. What's going on?

The ladies mumbled something to each other making Julianne feel left out of whatever they were deciding upon. When they came to a decision, they let Pepper and Ruth speak for the group.

Pepper began, We think you hit on something huge! She nodded to Ruth to continue.

"A new genre for writers to explore. Let's say we temporarily call it ‘Manipulative fiction’? Ruth suggested as she looked around at her group of friends.

Julianne jumped up from her seat with enthusiasm and excitement. I love that! she said with an excited squeal. Manipulative fiction it shall be! she said the words slowly letting them slip off the tip of her tongue.

Julianne sat back down and took a few sips of her green tea. Abbie, a woman in her early forties who stood a little over five feet ten inches tall, had the figure of a supermodel, with big bright green eyes and the brownish red, smoky hair to match whispered back and forth to the ladies who sat next to her before speaking up.

It's exciting to think about being the puppet master, and manipulating our cast of characters, and watching the story unfold before our eyes.

Julianne turned to her friend. Abbie, once you set things in motions, sometimes it leads you in a totally different direction than you expected. You can't control the characters' reactions or predict where their free will shell take you. When we write fiction, we can lead our characters any place we want, even though sometimes the story leads us, but we are still in control. With what I did . . . well, things were out of my control, and it could have ended in a disaster, and in some ways it did.

Abbie and the other ladies thought about Julianne's words.

Pepper asked, Julianne do you regret any of what you did?

It was time for Julianne to think about that question, and when she came up with her conclusion, she carefully formed the words in her mind before she spoke.

No! I don't regret any of it. How could I. I ended up with my beautiful little girl, became closer with my family, and learned a lot. But I also felt an over-whelming sense of guilt. And I really don't know that if my part, or the parts that any of my partners played could have gotten us thrown in jail. We could consider some of the things we did fraud.

Abbie listened carefully to her friend and nodded with understanding. You had a lot of support and resources. Just think what we can do! Between us we have friends, family, and resources that can aide us all and get us the. . .

Abbie's voice trailed off, as she tried to think of just the right word to use. But she didn't need to.

Pepper gave her the words she was looking for. Abbie the words you're looking for are revenge, justice, payback, leverage, and closure.

Maybe! But it is also giving the people who hurt us in the past a taste of their own medicine and give them an attitude adjustment, said Karen, who sat directly across from Julianne.

Pepper laughed, Like I said, R... E... V... E... N... G... E, revenge! She said spelling out the offending word.

Karen, a very petite women, who made everyone laugh, and was a creative writer, cook, and needlework artist, as well as a devoted wife, and mother of three. She was the youngest in the group at thirty-five. She stood up. I propose that we form a club!

Abbie smiled, We are a club . . ., she began.

True, Karen agreed. But . . .

Wait! Julianne called out. A huge smile spreading across her beautiful face. I think I know what Karen is thinking. I have a tremendous idea, and it's hugely outrageous! And it is adding on to what Karen is thinking.

Okay, you two piqued our interest, said Pepper.

Julianne looked at Karen. Karen is thinking that between the eight of us we have a limitless amount of resources, and know creative thinkers who can, let's say, provide us with character development. We should take advantage of that. Now this is what I was thinking. Playing It Out! is written under a pen name. At first, I thought I would use my name, but my nephew felt it was better that I didn’t. What do you all think about turning that story into a series? It will be about a group of writers, such as us . . .

Julianne couldn't help but giggle. . . . Who helps each other get revenge on those who hurt them and then write about it. Each writer contributes to the series, except the public believes it's just one writer because we all use the same pen name. It will protect each writer's identity. I'm sure our esteem publisher will protect our identities, and each writer will get all the revenue from the book they create. Julianne finished up hoping that her friends understood what she was trying to say.

Everyone was silent for a full minute as they let this idea rattle around in their creative heads.

Abbie broke the silence, What you are purposing is that the fiction writers become the fiction itself.

Suddenly everyone yelled, I love it! in unison, which caused everyone to break out in fits of laughter.

The rest of their Saturday they discussed their plans about this exciting new venture as they shopped in the upscale shops of West Palm Beach Florida, enjoyed lunch from a popular food truck, and got lessons in paddle boarding from Julianne at the beach behind her home. Their afternoon ended with them relaxing in the warm sand, as the sun bronzed their skin with Long Island Ice-Teas in their hands. By the time Sam returned from a rewarding fishing trip with his friend, they had formulated their plan detail by detail, and had wrote a proposal to present to Sam later that evening.

They had all agreed that they would keep this project a secret, except from Sam, and their publisher. Who happened to be Sam’s nephew. They would swear them to secrecy. They all would help each other, use all the resources and people at their disposal, suggest scenarios and help with the planning, maybe even play a part or two, and support each other through the good and bad of it all. It was up to each of them to write an outline and list the acceptable outcomes they wanted. They even made up a few rules that they would all follow.

In no way would they cause physical harm to any of their players, or victims.

Children were off limits as players.

There would be no paper trail of any kind.

What happens in their club, stays there!

Under no circumstances would they themselves do anything illegal.

Those who helped them would be helped in return.

They would now call themselves the Renegade Writer's, and the series they would produce would be called, Renegade Writers Club, which readers would believe was the work of one writer, Sandra Golden, the name Julianne had used for Playing It Out!

At seven thirty that evening, they were prepared to present their proposal to Sam. They were now waiting unit after dinner to make the presentation. Sam and his friend Mark were outside on the large deck that overlooked the beach, grilling their catch of the day. The women had gathered in the kitchen and were busy preparing the rest of the meal, and discussing their families, catching up on all the events that had happened since the last time they all got together. When Sam stepped inside the sliding glass doors the women were talking about the shops, they had visited that day, and the fun they had at the beach.

Sam rightly suspected that the ladies were up to something but didn't ask. Not yet, anyway. Instead, he played along and greeted them, Hi ladies, from the large assortment of bags in the recycle bin, I'm assuming that the shops in town will be busy restocking their shelves tonight.

Abbie, who was busy scooping hush puppies into a cast-iron skillet told Sam without looking up from her task, Palm Beach has the best selection of boutique shops, and with prices that can't be matched anywhere else, so we just can't help exploring them.

. . . and Julianne and the girls have to take advantage of it every chance they can. Sam teased. He grabbed two ice cold beers from the refrigerator, and a large empty platter to place the fish on and headed back outside.

But before he rejoined his friend, he turned around, and with a mischievous smile at the ladies he added, Abbie, you really need to give Julianne your hush puppy recipe, we just love them. Oh! And after dinner I can’t wait to hear about the project you all brewed up today. With your imaginations, I bet it’s spectacular.

Julianne slammed down the wooden spoon she was using and turned towards her husband. How did you know?

I heard a little before I left. My dear wife you really need to check to see if the intercom is opened in the room if you want to keep secrets from me. And I only heard the part about something called Manipulative Fiction before I shut it off. Nothing else! I Swear! I can't wait to hear what my best writers have cooked up. This should be very interesting, indeed.

Pepper teasingly threw a dish towel at him, which he let fall to the ground because his hands were filled with the two beers, and platter. Julianne saw that Mark was trying to get Sam's attention.

Dear, you need to get those fish off the grill and on to that plate before they burn, and I will have to recycle them into cat food for Garfield, Sugar, CC, and Spice.

Sam laughed, We can't have that happening, can we?

Sam pulled opened the sliding glass door and went back outside, forgetting to close it behind him. Garfield, a huge orange tabby cat who resembled the cartoon character, followed his owner out to the deck hoping he would get a taste of the fish that was sizzling on the grill.

Pepper and Ruth watched the pair, and Pepper thought out loud, Maybe next time we meet here we should bring a few husbands or boyfriends for Sam to play with. I don't think he enjoys being so outnumbered by women.

Julianne's rolled eyes to the ceiling. Don't worry about him. Sam adores all the attention, and he especially loves being catered to by us all. Especially since you all bring him homemade treats.

I believe I will be the envy of every man in the room tomorrow night when I am escorting eight beautiful women to the reception. Sam told the women as he entered the kitchen with the fish neatly arranged on the platter, and Garfield rubbing his ankles and purring loudly.

Julianne took the large plate from his hands and gave him a quick kiss on his tender soft lips. That you will be, my love. And I saw you sneak a little bite of that fish to Garfield. We are going to have to put him outside or he will beg for more.

With the food now cooked, Sam and Julianne Underwood escorted their quest into their dining room for dinner. The table was set with light blue dinner plates sitting on gold place mates. Julianne used her very best silver, and had already filled the water glasses, and soon her wine goblets would be filled with wine or sparkling water. They placed the meal on the table where flickering candles gave the atmosphere a homey but relaxed feel. Ruth, a cat lover, had already put poor Garfield outside, and he now sat outside on the deck pouting.

Julianne and Sam made it a rule to never discuss business, projects, or problems at the dinner table, or at any meals. So, the topic of conversation was the reception they were going to the next evening, the funny things that happened with their pets, kids, and husbands and boyfriends, and the places they had visited on vacations. Ruth, and Sam's fishing partner, Mark, had hit it off, and he delighted everyone with tales of wayward fishing trips, that became unexpected adventures with Sam.

At nine Mark made his exit from the table, and walked to his home, which was just a few yards down the beach from Sam and Julianne's back door. Julianne and their guest pushed back their chairs and was just about to get up to clear the table when Sam issued a one-word command, SIT!, and everyone remained where they were in silence.

Okay ladies, I want to know exactly what Manipulative Fiction is all about. Even though I have a pretty good idea, Sam told the women.

Their creative minds sometimes went into over-drive, at which time's he had to rein them in, and get them to focus. He turned to his beautiful wife, who he assumed was the ringleader in this venture. Julianne, I feel that all of you have something big on your minds, something exciting you want to discuss with me. Now is the time. Sam finished, he sat back in his comfortable chair at the head of the dining room table, and let his eyes move around the table at the smiling faces of his Authors.

Julianne got up and pulled a large vanilla envelope out from a drawer in the buffet and returned to her seat. Dear, we wrote a proposal that we would like for you to read, she told her husband showing him the envelope, but not handing it to him.

He nodded and held out his hand for the envelope. Of course, you did!

Sam looked really series and was immediately placed into his professional business persona as his eyes automatically went around the table looking at the eight anxious faces that were now watching him. The room was deathly silent, the only sounds being that of Julianne's grandfather clock, ticking rhythmically in the hall, and Garfield expressing his displeasure of being put outside by using the screen door as a scratching post.

Julianne placed the envelope on the table before him. Dear, we want you to read our proposal carefully, and think about it in your office. After we clean up, meet us at the fire pit for dessert, and we will discuss it.

What's for dessert? Sam asked.

Chocolate Mousse, with strawberries, and whip cream and your favorite bourbon. Julianne answered as the ladies got up and began collecting plates, and glasses.

Sam pushed back his chair and picked up the envelope and was about to leave. But there was something he had to ask first, Do I still get dessert if I don't like your proposal?

With her hands now filled with large empty serving bowls, Julianne walked up to Sam and gave him a kiss on his lips, tasting the sweet dinner wine he had just finished. Of course, you do. We can never deprive you of your dessert, she giggled.

With the vanilla envelope in hand Sam Underwood strolled to his office down the hall and shut the door. It was only when the ladies heard the door close behind him, and he was out of site, but not necessarily out of hearing their chatter, when the ladies began talking excitedly, all at once. This made it hard for Sam to distinguish what they were saying while he stood behind the door trying to ease drop. He could have turned on the intercom and listen, but he figured he would learn soon enough what they were all excited about. Sam tossed the envelope on his desk and served himself a shot of his favorite bourbon. It didn't take him long to read the four-page proposal that the ladies had given him. It was a very intriguing idea, as well as a very creative one, and a bit dangerous. He liked it!

He felt that no matter what he thought about the idea the very determined, independent, and creative ladies would proceed with this plan, with or without his approval. He had learned early on as his role as a publisher that creative types would develop an idea, or a story, and they just had to see it to the end, no matter where it led them. His job was always one of support, and he took that job very seriously. He was also very protective of his family, and he considered all the Authors who wrote the books that he published as part of that family and he would do anything to keep them safe and secure and happy and nurture their ideas and dreams. And that was exactly what he would do.

His talented wife had created what they now were calling Manipulative Fiction, and now she and her friends wanted to take it a bit further, up to the next level, and develop a whole series around it. Their business proposal was well thought out, detailed, organized, and in his opinion, pure genius. And he would support them. After Sam reread the proposal, he wrote some notes, as was his habit when addressing a new business venture, before sitting back in his chair and pondering the concept as he finished his drink, sipping it slowly. Letting different scenarios fill his mind with idea's. And now he knew how his Authors felt when they got a new idea for a story. The glint of excitement sparkled in his baby blue eyes. This is going to be fun! he said with a chuckle. Moments later he got up and went to have a fire-side chat with eight of the bravest, and most deserving and talented women he knew.

Chapter One

Mother, Daughter Reunion

Six weeks later.

Abbigail Forrester sat in her office overlooking her beautiful garden of her eighteenth-century farmhouse just outside Charleston South Carolina. Her desk, and bookshelves were littered with small picture frames filled with the happy faces of her large extended family. Abbie had bought the house, and the 12,000-acre property, with its own lake when her first book became a success. Taking advantage of the recession, and the fact that the previous owner had passed away and his relatives wanted to get rid of the place as fast as possible. Her second successful book allowed her to completely renovate the beautiful 18th century Victorian home, with her family's hands on help, she was able to get the work done, and, be out on a very demanding book tour of the country. Now, the whole family would gather at her home as much as possible. They were all very proud of the work they did on her home. He brothers would brag about the boat dock, and gazebo, they had built, and her sisters would counter that with bragging about the flea market finds they discovered, then refinished and repurposed for the house. Even her nieces and nephews would point out the places they themselves sanded, or tiled, or the garden they built, which they claimed as their own. Each spring everyone would come and help her plant vegetables that they would share. The old house had become the family meeting place.

With each successful publication Abbie would add a small two-bedroom cabin at the far end of her property. Keeping them about two miles away from her home to maintain her privacy. She now had twelve sweet little cabins near the lake which were constantly filled with the tourist, fisherman, or small families who needed a getaway from their hectic lives. A beautiful river coming down from the mountain fed her lake with fish and fresh water, and another river took those on boats, or wave runners the short distance to the seaside town, where they could spend the day building sandcastles, or shopping along the pier. Abbie loved meeting new people and the money from the little cabin resort brought in was a wonderful source of income. After building her fifth cabin it had become clear to her that managing the cabins, the property, and taking care of the wave runners, and boats was impeding what she loved to do the most, write.

The book-keeping itself had become nightmarish, and difficult for her because she was very dyslexic. Her brother, who did her taxes every year, had urged her to hire a manager, and a full-time grounds keeper so she would be free to write, and so he didn’t have to spend hours figuring out her failed attempt at bookkeeping. Abbie took her brother's advice. It was hard for Abbie to let go, and for a while she was always hovering over her new employees, making sure they kept the cabins cleaned, and everything in working order, and the property secure. Even now, every weekend she would go down to the lake and meet those who took up temporary residence in one of her cabins and made sure they had everything they needed. She missed being the one they spoke to when the campers called to make reservations, but she didn't miss all the paperwork, and tax forms that needed to be filled out each year. Abbie was now a full-time writer and that meant a lot of promoting for the four books a year that she wrote. It also allowed her to have more leisure time with family and friends and getting to relax with the hobbies she enjoyed like gardening, cooking.

Abbie glanced at the photos and smiled and her much loved family. There were a few people missing from her collection. People she wasn't ready to add yet. And those were pictures of her biological family who lived in California. Abbigail had been given up for adoption on the day she was born in New York, forty-two years ago. She was adopted right from the hospital by a wonderful couple that she now called mom and dad. Her parents thought they would never have any children, but two months after getting Abbie, her mother found out she was pregnant. The family grew quickly. Not only did her parents have two natural children, they adopted more children. The family now numbered ten. All of them were loved for who they were, and encouraged to be different and stand out, and stand proud, and together.

A few years back Abbie's sister, Tara, had searched for her birth family. Unfortunately, Tara had learned that the reason they gave her up for adoption was because her birth parents had been killed in a plane crash, and because they could find no other family members, the state had put her available for adoption. Tara's search for her family ended, and a passion developed. Tara was now a successful family law attorney whose greatest joy was to build families through adoptions and put families back together. Tara was married, and her brood of six comprised three biological children, and three chosen ones. In