Left Hanging (includes Red Cowboys excerpt!)
March 12, 2020 9:42 am Leave your thoughts
*WARNING: The following post contains spoilers for King of Spades.
I found this picture. The comment thread under it was mostly even; people expressing annoyance, others writing about coming to their own conclusions, branching out into Fanfic and similar. A few active-on-social-media authors commented about their experience with choosing to end a novel on this note and I think it’s time I let people know why I personally decided what I did for King of Spades.
Cliffhangers…
Yes, I know they’re annoying a lot of the time…
DEPENDING…on how the author does it. š
I like to get a good story and feel like I’m satisfied, no matter what happens at the end of the book. There are some books I’ve spent over 300 pages reading, engrossed and entertained…and arriving at a cliffhanger that I can understand. Back when I first tried to submit an early version of the KOS manuscript, I was told that I shouldn’t be pitching a cliffhanger and subsequent series, “a book should be stand-alone, then when it’s picked up by a publisher you can say there are more books.”
I never understood that concept. I was very young but I already questioned why a publishing house wouldn’t take on a series/potential series. It means more income for the publisher if there’s an audience hanging out to buy the next installment, and probably a sizable cut if some big Hollywood exec comes along and wants to turn it into a movie. If none of those things happen, the publisher still has a body of work by another author.
How does that saying go…? Amateurs built the arc, professionals built the Titanic. I create my own stuff, for my own amusement a lot of the time and that includes memes, art, bad jokes and more so I didn’t see the need to reign it in with writing either.Ā I tried to figure out how to end KOS in a way that would solve everything in the book and allow a brand new story (sequel) to appease the publishing gods at the time…but Red Cowboys wouldn’t have been as involving as it is had I not chosen to end KOS the way I did.
The end of KOS is an acceptable cliffhanger, IMO, despite the rage some of my friends feel. Why? Because the book included an excerpt from Red Cowboys, and not only is there an excerpt from the next book in the series, indicating there is another book, BUT the excerpt chapter that was included was the following…
Trent was drunk as shit. He had left the Blue Tag building knowing he was down for the count. The rest of the night was going to be spent leaning over the toilet in his washroom and sleeping on the tiles. Heād managed to excuse himself, said he was coming back but he knew he wasnāt. Heād gone through almost two bottles at dinner before Number One had given a Yeti a look and signalled him to collect the other bottles nearby and distribute them elsewhere.
He was staying up on the fifth floor of the Red Tag Building. Heād thought getting the whole floor was a pretty good deal for weeks before realising it was probably because Number One didn’t want him infecting other agents with his sudden weakness, his failure to come back from what happened to him overseas and at the Stella Hotel. The thought nagged at him, trying to squeeze through the drunken brain fog.
He didnāt want to be on Level 4 anymore anyway, right around the corner from Number Oneās office and Cleoās old room. He had lived in a massive tent with about forty other guys in the Middle East and before that, mostly slept in assigned cars, dorms and his place on The Outside, but his condo was out of the question. He was smart enough to know he didnāt want to be alone there so Level Five it was.
Everything was blurring in and out of his vision as he coasted down the hallways towards his room, trailing his hand along the wall to remind himself to keep upright while his steps dragged and tempted him to drop. Something about the flicker rate in the mutant-fluorescent lights above was playing tricks on his mind enough to make his guts churn. He knew his room was a few doors up from the far end, well away from the elevator where he had got out but heading that way was proving hard work.
He wanted a rest stop when he hit the halfway point, a few seconds to make the feeling in his stomach go away but a wall came up out of nowhere and blocked his path so he shoved it back with his left hand. The coolness on his palm didnāt budge and he didnāt want any trouble so he stepped back instead and just gave it a dirty look.
He continued the stumbling journey down the hall and repeated the action over and over. Whenever he pushed one wall back it was like it propelled him across towards the other until he was tripping down the hall from side to side like a human pinball. It was great. Drunken haze was so perfect, he was void of everything and he didnāt care. All he wanted was to go to bed, after heād thrown up a few times maybe.
He laughed and the sound bounced around him, boyish and kind of pussy while his head spun and threatened to dunk him on his ass. He took a long blink and Cleo was there when his eyes shut, her finger on his lips, dark hazel eyes resting on his. He knew what that look meant. Shit, he wanted to kiss her, start something that wasnāt going to finish until dawn.
His eyes sprung open when he crashed into something hard enough to jar his scraped-up elbow.
It was solid and rectangular and taller than him, covered in a thick grey plastic tarp. He was pretty sure it hadnāt been there earlier when he flashed past to change his clothes and race to dinner but he didnāt know. It was almost at the end of the hall, maybe far back enough for him to have overlooked it, it was possible. He swayed as he pulled the corners and yanked the tarp. It stuck a few times, throwing him off balance and making him bow his back. He overcompensated and fell forward when it suddenly came away, slamming his hands out on the glass in front of him.
It was an expensive display case for trophies or fine china; thick glass up front and wooden frames, sturdy enough to take his weight if heād wanted to climb it for some reason. It hadnāt even shuddered when heād fallen into it. His hands were pressed up on the surface while everything spun around him, his full weight on it waiting for his balance to return.
He forced his eyes to focus on his dirty square fingernails, move down his fingers past minor cuts and scrapes across his knuckles and then back up again. He pulled away from the case and left white prints slowly waning with the air. Trent saw the contents of the display case behind them and choked, halfway between a gasp and a yelp.
His back hit the opposite wall hard, driving all the air from his lungs, leaving him coughing and unable to get a breath. He couldnāt take his eyes off the case but he was caught, bent over trying to clear his throat and get some oxygen. His eyes were watering with the strain. He hadnāt realised heād shoved himself backwards so violently until impact.
He could see a grimy female Red Tag uniform with grass stains and dirt on the knees and blood spatter on the arms and chest. Two bullet holes graced the torso area and then one near the shoulder. The words āAgent Cleo Darkrose ā Deceasedā were printed on a small gold plaque below the glass on the wooden cabinet area of the display case, engraved in thick stamped-out italic font. It looked authentic, it matched his memories.
It was the uniform Cleo had been wearing when she fell from the Stella Hotel and died.
āNo, nuh uh, itās gotta be a replicaā¦but why would they make a fucking replica?ā His mind was screaming now,āHow did that get here? What the hell is going on?!ā
Horror.
Trent turned and ran. He didnāt know where he was going or how long he was going to run for. Something didn’t make sense and his mushed brain couldnāt figure it out.
Ā He had to get away.
It felt like the display case would come after him. 
Run. Just run.
He snapped his head around over his shoulder to see if it was chasing him as he tore down the hall, a thick fearful groan oozing from the side of his mouth. When he looked ahead the hallway was getting shorter from the elevator side, shrinking so he was running out of space to go.
He knew this feeling. Heād felt like this before, some cave in the Middle East with the enemy chasing.
The display case was closing in behind him. He was going to die.
His head snapped back again to check its position; it was still coming after him, gaining on him just like he knew it would. Stomach bile rose in his throat as he pushed forward, running harder, larger strides to escape, panicked breaths.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Get away.
He faced the front, too late to notice the wall come up, too drunk to stop himself hitting it at full force then rebounding off and almost taking an eye out when he banged his head on the corner of a drink fountain on the way down. He tasted vomit as he smashed his jaw on the ground.
*
So…what could this mean?
Fuckn duh….
Here’s what we get so far:
The next installment of the Darkrose Novels is coming.
Agent Trent Starr made it off the roof in King of Spades, despite a devastating injury.
Agent Trent Starr is still an MDS agent.
He has some mental health issues to deal with.
Agent Cleo Darkrose’s uniform is encased in a display cupboard…and that it is the one she was wearing when she fell….
So then we get to questions like…
“How did they get her uniform if she’s dead?”
“If MDS somehow arrived at the scene before paramedics and took the body, then why didn’t they tell Starr this whole time?”
“They had to have access to her body even with the Truth for Life movement everywhere, even with the sirens and authorities on the way…”
“How did MDS get her uniform if they didn’t arrive at the scene?”
“Where’s her body/grave if she’s really dead?”
And the list goes on.
There is more coming and the reader is more than aware of that when they put King of Spades down. It’s the type of cliffhanger I can bring myself to accept. There’s no fancy BS where you don’t know if it’s a cliffhanger, for eg. The reader isn’t disrespected in that way and given the full truth (that it is a cliff hanger) as well as assurance via the Red Cowboys excerptĀ that there’s is more to come.
I’ve also reached the stage where Red Cowboys has to be released soon, I know. As you might know due to past posts, health issues and other set me back a large chunk of time, but you will have Red Cowboys in your hands/ereaders (whatever)…soon. Every day I get better and closer!
TLDR:
*Cliffhangers are a polarising topic with readers.
*Publishers used to advise people to write a stand-a-lone and sneak a sequel up later.
*Red Cowboys is rad.
*If you didn’t understand the hints at the end of King of Spades that there might be a search for what became of Agent Darkrose/her body, now you do.
*I can’t wait for the gals already crushing on Agent Starr to get to see other sides of him.
All content is no copyright infringement intended. All posts are opinion only and are subject to change due to experience, kicking ass and learning how to adult more effectively. If you donāt like it, donāt let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya. Elements of original content may be reproduced with expressed permission from Ever Eden.
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