NaNoWriMo 2012 book: Evergreen Cherry – starring Chance Buchanan

I will be writing a book for this Nano, and I shall make a point of posting it. I’ve also devoted a category for it that can be accessed by the sidebar, the books page, or here. That opens it for criticism, I know, but it’s a NaNoWriMo book. They are conceived in plot and initial pages on 11/01, thus will have a numerous number of faults, as my prior NaNo book did. But it’ll be 50,000 words of creative writing, and when/if I decide to make it commercially available it’ll likely be free.

That said, I’m open to comments. Not just for like/dislike/encouragement/laughter, but also for suggestions. If you read it and think, “boy I think this should happen next,” I’m open to hearing it. Because I’ll be honest: I have no clue how the story is going to play out until the final scenes. I know how this NaNo book is going to end, but getting there, I have no clue! So I’m open to creative influences. Not just because I dunno, but also because this is a genre I’ve not written before, nor know how to write. It’ll be a somewhat detective/mystery/solve the crime and catch the villain type. Or at least that’s what I hope!

Anyways, that’s all for the introduction. From now on I’ll post the bits as they are made. Hopefully once a day, but at the end of the month the goal is to reach 50,000 words, even if that means cramming 10,000 of them into 11/29. To make it easier to keep track of scenes (something similar to what I’ll be doing with my “The Lupine Chevalier” book), I’ve abandoned chapters altogether, and numbered each passage. I’ve also taken to spacing out paragraphs rather than indenting them.

Evergreen Cherry – starring Chance Buchanan


He was being chased, but he laid in wait anyways. He heard the footsteps, the two fast feet coming first. The two slower feet were a ways behind, just as expected. He smirked, then reached into his pocket. He pulled out the gun, made sure the ammunition was ready and the safety was off. And then he waited for the pursuers to catch up, one by one.

He was just behind an offshoot of the hallway. He knew a pursuer would ignore it and keep running until they reached the far end and turned. He wasn’t going to wait. He knew the fast one would speed right by him, and he’d take that opportunity to strike, to relieve himself of one pursuer, and then he could take his time with the other. Just a few more seconds.

He readied his gun, aiming it into the hall. Even if the pursuer did stop and see him, it would be too late. He’d be surprised and that’d be the end of it. Smart plan, right?

So it was a shattering surprise when the steps didn’t slow, but the direction had changed. It was a surprise that he was turning the corner and beginning to duck at the same time, making himself lower than the gun’s aim. Here he was, expecting to catch this guy by surprise, but the guy had avoided his gun and jumped right into him. His gun was out of his possession by the time he hit the floor.

“Well now, Jake, you mind if I read you your rights?” asked the young man with the sly grin and the old hat.

“How?” Jake asked, still surprised.

“One word at a time. You have the right to remain silent, you know, the kind of speech that murderers love to hear,” the young man said while snapping on some cuffs.

“How’d you know I was there?” Jake asked, determined to know. It was inconceivable in his criminal mind that the man could have pulled off what he did. He knew it.

“I Google’d you. Amazing what technology can find nowadays. Ask it where the bad man is hiding, it just works. Or maybe I just got lucky,” the man said.

Jake didn’t believe it, but the cuffs were on him, and the man he was so sure he was going to get the better of was the one arresting him. He had to accept it. He heard the two slower steps finally approach.

“You got him, Chance?”

“Yeah, he ain’t getting away again. Life of three meals and plenty of cheerful company awaits him. Handle his piece for me, will you? Thanks Turner,” Chance said.

“Yeah yeah,” Turner said. “I got it. I’ll handle the papers. And boy, I know that look. You took a gamble again. You know it’ll catch up with you. Just how did you catch him this time?”

“Aw, you know me Turner, I’m just favored that way. Unlike this piece of work. Up you go. Get moving, gotta get you to the station before the captain takes his nap,” Chance said.

The two detectives carried their prisoner off, while the criminal kept muttering to himself, going over the events in his mind, trying to make sense of things.

As for the detectives, it was just another day, though a bit more exciting than most. Jack Turner hadn’t expected on getting a workout this day, considering his age, but this particular killer felt the urge to get Jack back in top form, back in his marathon shape from decades past. He’d been on the force longer than most, but stayed in his current position, even though he could’ve risen with seniority. He never did indicate if he liked it or not, he just did it.

But he’s not the one I’m here to talk about. No, any more delay and he’d be liable to run me in for going on about Turner. There was Turner’s new partner, newly minted as a detective, all fresh and shiny in that way that new guys were. He had his own accomplishments in the past before, Turner knew that, but his beat was a new one. Thus, rookie applied in his head.

That was Chance Buchanan. He must have had some kind of influence from those old cop shows, as he wore one of those slick hats you saw those guys wore. A hat and a slick grin, all on top of a face that accurately portrayed his youth. That was Chance Buchanan.

He nodded at the mumblings of the caught killer, always wearing that grin that made those in cuffs feel like popping him one right in the nose. This one, though, was still up in his thoughts. Now, it’s not right to call an individual who decides to break the most sacred provisions of the law intelligent, but this fellow wasn’t the dullest pin in the box, and if you had seen the layout yourself, as well as the lighting and how far ahead of the cops he had been, you’d be inclined to say he had made a smart move in waiting.

It was, I’ll reveal that much. Problem was, he didn’t know Chance Buchanan. He had a certain advantage in this particular matter that nobody was aware of. But that’ll have to wait, otherwise he’ll get upset at what’s supposed to be the big reveal. I’ll get to that when I get to that, and then we can all sit back and say, “Of course!”

Enough of that. Chance and Turner, for the old timer was always calling Chance by his first name, and Chance by Jack’s last, finished bringing their result of investigation, worry, and chase to the station, and then said their goodbyes when the day’s shift was over. That day was over, and no emergencies had appeared between the time they booked one guy and then finished the paperwork on him.


Water cooler, police headquarters. Chance was standing around jerking the chains of three other rookies who were stuck doing basic patrols. Telling them all about how he was involved in a struggle of the live and death kind, and how this rabid killer had him dead to straights.

Turner took the opportunity as he passed to calm some of the flames, saying, “Chance telling you about that killer, eh? Sure was big. You can see all five feet of him down in the block. We haven’t moved him yet. Oh, did Chance say he was six two? I haven’t had my coffee.”

Chance ran after him a moment later, his group dispersed and Chance visibly annoyed.

“Come on Turner, why did you have to rain like that? Just a good ribbing, give the lads something to bite into. Something they all hope to do something and make it out well and fine, then tell their own story. I was showing them how it’s done, how the good life is supposed to be told.”

“Yeah yeah. You do that on your own time. We got work,” Turner said.

“Was there a call?”

“Not yet, but I expect one soon. With all the sirens blaring this morning and the chatter, sounds like something happened. The other boys are out, if it’s something after all we’ve got a clean plate waiting to be filled,” Turner said. He was already sitting at his desk and flipping through a notebook. He touched his closed laptop, but decided against opening it and removed his hand.

The old timer’s instincts were usually right so Chance took a moment to polish down a cup of java and then flipped through some case notes on his phone. Sure enough, not ten minutes later the call came, and the duo reported.

Chief Stirling hung the receiver a moment after they arrived. He motioned for them to sit, and then placed his elbows on his desk, intertwined his fingers, sighed, and then dropped his hands to the sides of his chair.

“We got a couple bodies. Down by A and Thirteenth. Look into it. Tread light, this one has media. IDs are in, and looks like we got a couple celebrities,” Stirling said.

“Great. I’ll go grab Lindsay, have her do my makeup,” Chance said while popping up from his chair.

“Down,” Turner rumbled. Chance gave him a look, and then complied with a sigh. A sigh that was repeated by Turner. “So you’re giving us a circus.”

“It’s not my fault you caught one and cleared your plate. Look, my hands are tied as well. I got everyone out looking for purse snatchers or jilted lovers who’ve decided to take the law into their own hands, and then something like this comes along. What do you think I’m gonna do, wait for Peterson and Nunez to finish finding The Apologist and then stick them with handling the crowd? I’m sure you’d love to see it, but I gotta send whoever is free. That’s you two. Maybe I should switch cases around, see how you feel about that, see which circus you’d rather deal with. So Turner, Chance may not be all that off. If you have a makeup kit, smile for the cameras.”

Turner didn’t reply, and the chief didn’t sound like he was joking. Chance managed to stifle a guffaw, but he was looking forward to the limelight. Ant the chief’s implication about sticking Peterson and Nunez with this case while he got to chase the nonexistent trail of a serial killer impeded his ceremonious thoughts. That trail was dead, and Chance knew it. Solving it would be fame and glory, but things out of reach are out of reach.

The duo took their leave and arranged to meet in five at the car. Chance said he’d be off finding Lindsay to give him a once over, to which Turner just mumbled and ignored. He headed to the car right away and waited minutes it would take for Chance to arrive. He arrived looking no different, but Turner didn’t care.


A circus was waiting for them. That much was expected, but it soon because obvious the chief had left out a key detail about these celebrities. Not only were they Ivan Talon and Patricia Boulevard, two of the biggest stars of the past few years, but they were each married to other people. And one look at the scene in question made that particular fact an obvious point of interest.

Chance’s exuberance at media attention was quickly squashed he he started running his thoughts about the scene and people in question. He could see it now, he knew the stations must already be playing out reenactments and investigating where a certain couple of spouses were. He already knew where one was, and confirmed it with a quick net search. As he flipped through a few pages his fears were confirmed.

“It’s national already, Turner,” Chance said. He pulled at his tie slightly and waved his hat once before returning it to his head.

“Great. They’ll have the case solved and someone convicted before we have our first suspect. This isn’t going to go over well,” Turner said.

He was right. The media was all over it. Vengeful lover with a question mark after it was the breaking news on each network. Some had already charted out graphs and had broken out stopwatches to show how one of the spouses could have committed the crime and then made it to their planned appearance at some show with a whole twenty seconds to spare. Their lawyers must have already started on the chief and the courts. Chance had to chuckle at the thought, now that he knew the chief was venting some of his own frustration in playing them.

“Media attention, yeah right. Stirling knew it’d be a bit more than media attention. You got an idea, Turner?”

“Ignore them, concentrate on the case. Vultures. As if it wasn’t going to be bad enough already.”

### – That’s all for now – ###

About James Ashman

I write books of the fantasy, heroic, and adventure types. So far. I'm an author who loves fantastic stories.
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