Star Dust (27 page)

Kit waved his hand. “No, I’m sorry. I’m not Commander Campbell today. I’m just here for the launch.”

“He never stops being Commander Campbell.” That was Anne-Marie, who squeezed his waist and beamed at the reporter. “He’ll answer a question or two, and we can even pose for a picture if you like.”

Later, Kit wasn’t sure if he’d answered the question. He didn’t remember it, at any rate. What he remembered was Anne-Marie getting her kids and Margie’s lined up for the cameraman. The sweet sweep of her neck as she bent to laugh at something Robbie Reynolds said. The way she fit perfectly under his arm.

She was perfect.

Once the pictures were over, one of the reporters started to ask something else, but he placed a firm hand on Anne-Marie and Lisa and began towing them away, Freddie trailing behind. “We’ve had enough, gentlemen. Now I’m going to the beach with my family.”

Thank You!

Thank you for reading
Star Dust
—we hope you enjoyed it!

If you’re inclined, please consider leaving a
review
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For a sneak peek at what’s coming next in the Fly Me to the Moon series, turn the page!

Excerpt from Earth Bound (Fly Me to the Moon #2)

Everyone was at the party celebrating the safe return of Commander Campbell from his mission to space. Everyone except the man most responsible for that safe return. And they probably didn’t even notice that he’d bolted early.

Parsons pulled into the lot of a seedy motel. One so seedy that not even the astronauts used it for their assignations. Which was the point. No one would see him here.

The powder-blue Dodge he was looking for was parked in front of room 103.

He released the breath he always held until he saw that car. That was his fear: that one day he’d show up and that blue car wouldn’t be there. That he’d enter the room and it would be empty.

That was the agreement. Either one of them could end their arrangement at any time. But Parsons didn’t want it to end. Not yet. No, he wanted these meetings with a force that scared him sometimes.

He parked his own car and went up to the door of room 103, gingerly trying the handle. Unlocked.

He slowly pushed open the door, walked in, and searched the shadows.

“How was your day, dear?” a voice asked from the darkness of the bed.

She was here
. Even though he’d seen her car, a small part of the fear held on until he knew for certain she was here. Waiting for him.

“All right.” He closed the door and began to strip off his tie.

“Make any astronauts cry?” she mocked. “You’re smiling, which means you must have.”

He could see her now, his eyes having adjusted. She was propped up on the bed, her blouse half unbuttoned, her skirt hiked to mid-thigh, her legs bare. She had a beer in her hand and she took a long swig as she studied him.

It had been quite a day: the stress of thinking that Campbell might not make it. For hours he’d calculated the odds that the entire mission might burn to a crisp in the sky. But it had all ended well.

“Actually no,” he answered. “But that’s on the agenda for tomorrow.”

He unbuttoned his cuffs, rolled his sleeves up to his elbows while she watched. She took another swig, her throat working, her gaze shuttered.

He got onto the bed, climbed over her, enclosing her body with his own. She merely stared back, her eyes defiant. Daring.

She never gave anything easy, this woman. He had to wrest everything from her. Which made it all the sweeter.

She lifted the bottle to her mouth, took another swallow. As if he bored her. When she took the bottle away, a drop of liquid clung to her upper lip. He bent forward and licked it off.

“Hey,” she protested quietly. “That was my beer.”

He took it from her hand. “It’s mine now.” He set the bottle on the side table, lowered his mouth back to hers. “All mine.”

In this room, in the dark, with this woman, everything else fell away. There were no Soviets here. No faulty switches. No recalcitrant flyboys.

“That’s what you think,” she whispered against his lips.

Oh, but the struggle for control was just as real—and so were the rewards.

Afterword

There are similarities between the plot of
Star Dust
and the actual history of human space exploration. The first human to orbit the earth was Soviet cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin in April 1961. American John Glenn followed in February 1962. However, the American Space Department is fictional. ASD is not NASA; the Perseid mission is not Mercury. All the characters in
Star Dust
are literary inventions and any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental.

Two incidents in the book closely track history. First, during a test in 1961, Gus Grissom nearly drowned after the bolts on a hatch blew early and the capsule filled with water. Second, in the process of John Glenn’s 1962 orbit, there were questions about whether the heat shield was in place; later it was determined to have been a faulty switch, not a mechanical failure.
 

In addition to inventing an entire cast of characters, we have changed a number of historical details. For example, all the astronauts chosen for the Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo programs were married—probably to avoid the kinds of distractions Kit faces here. In the early and mid 1960s, the astronauts and their wives attempted to project happiness and stability even when the truth about their marriages was more complicated.

Public scrutiny of the astronauts and their families
was
intense. A divorcee like Anne-Marie might have faced severe backlash for her involvement with an astronaut. If anything, we’ve underplayed the media’s interest and involvement in this novel. We’ve also eschewed references to the financial incentives the astronauts’ families received for participating in the media coverage about their lives.

The neighborhood where Kit and Anne-Marie live—Lake Glade—is inspired by Timber Cove and Clear Lake, Houston subdivisions located near the Manned Spacecraft Center (later Johnson Space Center) where many astronauts and NASA employees lived.

We are grateful to a number of authors of histories of space exploration and NASA, including Tom Wolfe, Lily Koppel, Francis French, Colin Burgess, and Martha Ackmann, and for the NASA Oral History Project, which is entertaining and informative. We have also enjoyed atmospheric fiction written in the 1950s and 1960s, including that by Sloan Wilson, John Cheever, and Mary McCarthy and films from the period, including
Lover Come Back
,
Pillow Talk
, and
The Apartment
. We’re going to keep making stuff up, but these books and movies have given us parameters.

Acknowledgements

This is a book about hope and risk and potential. As such, its writing and editing required group effort.

Star Dust
would not exist without the support of our friends and family. You always understood when we need to hide away to scribble “our stories,” your antics helped us write children (and dogs!) with verisimilitude, and you gladly ate 60s food and drank 60s cocktails “for research.” We love you.

We must also thank our beta readers: Elisabeth Lane and Erin Satie who read an early (weak) draft; Kimberly Truesdale, Molly O’Keefe, and Soni Wolf who helped us through the middle; and Cecilia Grant, Melody, and Cindy who helped us polish at the end. You corrected errors and cheered us on even when we had miles to go.

Star Dust
would have been immeasurably weaker without the editing of Simone St. James. Any remaining errors are ours.

A fuller list of the things we read and watched in order to write
Star Dust
appears in the authors’ note, but we are grateful to the brave men and women who participated in early human space exploration. Whatever this book is, you inspired it.

About the Authors

Emma Barry is a novelist, full-time mama, and recovering academic. When she’s not reading or writing, she loves hugs from her preschooler twins, her husband’s cooking, her cat’s whiskers, her dog’s tail, and Earl Grey tea.

You can find her on the web at
www.authoremmabarry.com
and find more of her books
here
.

Genevieve Turner writes romance fresh from the Golden State. In a previous life, she was a scientist studying the genetics of behavior, but now she’s a stay at home mom studying the intersection of nature and nurture in her own kids. (So far, nature is winning!) She lives in beautiful Southern California, where she manages her family and homestead in an indolent manner.

You can find her on the web at
www.genturner.com
and find more of her books
here
.

Copyright © 2015 by Emma Barry and Genevieve Turner

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the authors’ imaginations or used fictitiously. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Digital Version 1.0

Cover photographs © Novel Expressions |
novelexpression.com
and Umkehrer |
canstockphoto.com

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