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What is unique about the romance between Charlie and Emma?
Will she find him?
Credit: Toppel Photography
Is he still looking for her?
What does it mean to love someone you havent seen in like a century?
The more I wrote, the more I wondered!
Whats your favorite romantic book or movie, and can you tell me why it just kills you?
I am a sucker for romance, especially ones that rip your heart out.
Whats not to love in that giant ball of pain?
Yeah, that kills me.
In the best of ways!
Charlie and Emma have eternal youth and theyre not even vampires.
So whats the trade-off for them?
Eternal youth isnt all its cracked up to be, is it?
I have spent a lot of time thinking about what it would be likereallyto live forever.
Especially if your only super power is, well, living forever.
Exactly when would the daily tedium get to you?
At what point would seeing the same still-seventeen-year-old face in the mirror become annoying and not amazing?
Because shes totally in love with Charlie and shes seventeen and now she gets sexy times with Charlie forever!
And they lose each other, which is awful.
And there are various villains and possible villains at play.
Members of Church of Light are basically the bad guys in your novel.
They systematically murder people for a hundred years, if I understand things right.
Whats the Church of Light religion and how does it justify so much spilled blood?
So yeah, that.
I wish I could say hey, that has never happened in the real world.
But unfortunately, thats not the case.
Whats crucial is that Emma and Charlie are eternal without having to work for it.
This makes them other and other is always both threatening and fascinating.
So I asked myself what would happen from there.
Emma is a private investigator, with a license and everything.
Are you a fan of detective novels?
Whos your favorite mystery writer and why?
She is funny, loyal, independent, and sharp-witted, and I adore her with every fiber.
Its the holiday season and youre a YA novelist.
People are buying books for their teenagers and if theyre not, they should be.
Like, one is for the slacker emo dude who still likes Looney Tunes.
Another is for the social justice warrior fashionista neat freak.
What kids want your books?
Well of course everyone should read them all.
After they read all of your books, of course!
Finding Pariswould be an excellent gift for physics-loving road trippers with a finely-honed sense of irony.
I love the title,It Wasnt Always Like This.
Can you explain it?
I love the title, too!
For Emma and Charlie, its the perfect description of the troubles of their eternal condition.
So here they are with endless years at their disposal but not each other.
Plus a bunch of people keep trying to kill them, so theres also that.
The title works for the secondary characters as well, and Im so excited for everyone to meet them!
Give me three adjectives describing this novel and make them juicy ones, kindly.
Eternal, passionate, thrilling.
I hope thats juicy enough!
CHAPTER ONE
An island off the coast of St. Augustine, Florida
1916
It was gone.
Maybe were in the wrong place, Charlie said, but Emma knew he didnt mean it.
She pushed her way through the tall grass, not caring what she disturbed.
Something sharp poked through her skirt and bit into the tender flesh at the back of her knee.
The empty jars in her pockets slapped her thighs.
Maybe Charlie was right.
Maybe they were just turned around or confused.
This was the first time theyd come here alone.
Emma herself had been only once, under the watchful eye of her father.
Maybe they were lost.
But the place was too familiar.
She recognized the strange little clearing at the center of the island, only there was no
stream.
At least, thats how she thought it worked.
But she wasnt certain, was she?
That frightened her, too; Emma liked being certain.
It doesnt matter, Charlie said.
He grabbed her shoulder from behind and spun her around, pulling her close, arms encircling her waist.
You were still right.
We need to run.
we can manage without the plants.
Tall and angular, with broad shoulders and taut arms, jaw neatly defined.
Brows thick and cheekbones etched high.
A wild thatch of hair that never stayed put.
Hed wanted to run even before now.
That desire had brought them here.
Shed done this for him.
On her right side, not ten feet away, the grass waved and shifted.
She felt more than saw a small alligator slither by.
Caught a glimpse of a coal-black eye between the tall green blades.
Emma tried not to panic.
The gators were the least of her worries.
TWO DAYS EARLIER, Emma had rushed to the aviary and wrapped her hands tight around Charlies.
Simon, she gasped.
How even to start?
Something both horrifying and miraculous had happened to her baby brother.
They could no longer hide what theyd
become.
They had to leave St. Augustine.
What is it, Em?
Charlie held her close, his eyes searching hers.
On their perches, the hawks quieted, as if overwhelmed
with the same concern.
Is something wrong with Simon?
I was supposed to beto be watching him, she stammered.
But you know how he gets.
She didnt have to elaborate.
Simon was a two-year-old toddler, had been for over three years now.
He would be a two-year-old toddler forever.
Perpetually curious and naughty and needy, all of which Charlie knew full well.
He got into the benzene while I wasnt looking.
I guess it was the sweet smell, like soda pop.
Just tell me what happened.
My brother drank half the bottle.
Should have burned his insides.
He should have blisters or be vomiting.
That stuff is poison, Charlie.
Maybe he looked a little green for about a minute .
Tears stung her eyes, but she trained her gaze on Charlie to calm herself.
His stillness was a gift, never more so than at
this moment.
Hes fine, Charlie said soothingly.
Thats all that matters.
But they both knew things werent fine.
Simons throat hadnt burned, but the world felt like it was burning, consuming her with it.
So shed done what a girl had to do under such circumstances.
When life itself stopped making sense, shed come up
with a plan.
FIRST THEYD STEAL a skiff from the harbor.
Row to the island.
That part of the plan had worked.
But the second part, the part that mattered, had gone up in smoke.
Theyd brought jars to dip in the stream, but the clear
water had vanished without a trace.
As for the last part of the planrunningthat, they could still do.
EMMA HAD THOUGHT the escape would be joyous.
But who knew what or how grown-ups thought, anyway?
They were
all crazy, the good ones, the bad ones, the dangerous ones.
She and Charlie would finally be free of the worry, free of all
the hateful whispers.
They would be together.
That was all that mattered.
Except the stream and its plants and the world itself had chosen not to cooperate.
Three years they
had been together.
But it wasnt three years at all; it was nothing.
Time was meaningless once you discovered youd drunk
from a Fountain of Youth.
Its okay, he insisted.
Well figure something out All at once he stiffened.
His hands fell from her body.
He sniffed the air.
The Church of Light, she finished with him.
They were running again even before Charlies fingers threaded through hers.
CHAPTER TWO
Dallas, Texas
Present
Emma pried open one eye.
Her head was splitting, her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.
She eased up on an elbow.
The
room tilted, her stomach giving a sickly lurch.
She wasnt alone in bed.
There was a guy next to her.
Vaguely she remembered having bought street tacos outside the bar from a girl with an Igloo cooler.
At the time, it seemed like a solid idea.
Emma had many solid ideas when she was drunk.
The tacos, involving a meat substance of unknown origin, did not seem so solid at the moment.
Her reason for being at that particular downtown Dallas bar wasnt scoring high points, either.
Another dead end, it turned out.
But Emma kept at things, because you just never knew.
Cold trails turned warmer.
Hopes bloomed, well, hopefully.
People came and went.
Girls disappeared on their way home and later turned up dead.
It was a decades-long rash, a nearcentury-long rash.
But recently, there had been a subtle uptick.
That first girl, Allie Golden, in Rio Rancho, north of Albuquerque, four years ago.
Then six months back, one outside of Fort Worth.
Karissa Isaacs, twenty years old.
Both living near Emma, their deaths following her as she moved east.
Both kidnapped and poisoned and dumped.
And now the third in four years, right here in Dallas.
Elodie Callahan, just sixteen.
There might have been more.
Emma guessed there were more.
She would like to think she was certain about that; she still prized certainty.
But shed learned many lifetimes ago that certainty was a luxury.
You could shrug off the pattern, chalk the atrocities up to coincidence.
A long time ago, Emma had tried that very thing.
Or you could leap into the fray and see where it led you.
Hone your investigative skills.
See if the pattern was indeed what you feared.
The tacos were about to make a messy reversal unless she got herself under control.
Her commitment to staying off the grid?
Blown to hell and back.
Emma ONeill had let herself surface once again and now she was paying the price.
So were the dead girls.
And the guy, snoringMason, maybe?
Mike?legs tangled in her comforter, mouth hanging openwell, he had to go.
She elbowed him, hard, in the ribs.
She smoothed her hands over her rumpled red mini dress.
Between the tacos and the bourbon, it didnt smell much better.
At least the dress was still on her.
Mason/Mike was shirtless, but he was still wearing his pants.
If theyd done anything, they could have only done so much.
Mmphff, he mumbled.
Out, Emma said, rising, pulling herself together.
She wasnt always this inhospitable.
But Mason/Mike was an error in judgment, not company.
Emma didnt mind company.
She did attempt to avoid errors in judgment, but over time, over history, they were inevitable.
The trick was to act fast and stay pleasant about it.
He opened his eyesblue, bloodshotand grinned at her.
How the hell do you still look so good?
Matt.His name was Matt.
She didnt need a
glimpse in the mirror to know they were both right.
Emma ONeill might be a tad rumpled and head-throbby right this
second, but that would fade soon enough.
A hangover would never make a dent in the overall picture.
Toxins of any kind
didnt have any real effect beyond an initial jolt or a groggy wake-up.
Even toxins less pleasant than questionable street
tacos.
Hadnt in longer than she preferred to remember.
Matt sat up, rubbing his backside.
Now whyd you go and do that?
He scratched the side of his face.
His gaze was
bleary.
He was cutethick blond hair and a stubbly chinbut pasty under his tan.
Hed looked better last night.
Emma thought of her friends, Coral and Hugo.
Well, mostly Coral.
The girl who looked like the other girls.
The girl who looked like Emma.
THEIR MEETING HAD been a random thing.
Emma might not even have spoken to Coral had it not been for Bernie.
Emma had always wanted one, but a dog was a responsibility she couldnt assume.
A dog might call attention where she needed anonymity.
Even if it was lovable.
Maybe she was over-identifying on that last one.
Either way, a dog was just one more thing that would die before she did.
The pup padded closer and sat on her foot.
You live around here?
Coral, she noted now, was medium height, like she was.
Pale like Emma, too.
A slew of brightly colored vintage pottery bracelets adorned her milky arms.
Her wavy hair was streaked with lots of red and a bit of blue.
Underneath it looked to be blonde .
But even, then Emma suspected it could have been brown.
Like hers, too.
Yeah, Emma said.
The pup was still sprawled across her foot.
She hoped he wasnt about to pee.
She
waved toward the bits of downtown Dallas skyline visible beyond the trees on her left.
The girl yanked on the leash until the puppy moved.
You should be flattered.
He doesnt like a lot of people.
Emma turned and nearly bumped into a boy.
Coral scolded, but she was smiling.
She turned to Emma.
He never watches where hes going.
Hugo had a big grin.
Gangly, black-haired, Latino.
Before Emma knew it, they were introducing themselves.
Hugo Alvarez and Coral Ballard were both seniors at North Dallas High School.
And Emma could see: Both were funny and quirky and very much in love.
It was that last part that slipped through her defenses.
The way Hugo casually rested a hand on the small of Corals back.
The way their closeness reminded her of a closeness shed once had.
Coral tapped a painted nail on her chin.
Look at her, Hugo.
Sisters, Hugo and she finished at the same time.
Bernie nudged Emmas hand so shed keep petting him.
Dont we look alike, Hugo?
She rolled her eyes to make it not true.
But it was true.
And acknowledging thateven silentlyawakened in her a fierce and sudden protectiveness she hadnt been able to quell since.
It was the lie shed chosen for herself upon moving to Dallas.
UNFORTUNATE THAT CORAL and Hugo had chosen last nightof all nightsto sneak into that same neighborhood bar.
But thats what happened when you made friends.
You ran into them.
She didnt indulge that often, but it was the holidays, and he was cute enough.
Like shed figured: a dead-end.
She should have left the moment Coral and Hugo sauntered in.
Or told them to leave.
They were underage, after all.
Among a long list of reasons why: they thought she was underage, too.
(In a way, she was.)
Better to let sleeping dogs lie.
Or sit on your foot, like Bernie.
You like him, Coral whispered to Emma after bourbon number four.
Coral was a romantic
like that.
Hes all right, Emma whispered back.
Youre cute, too, Matt said, leaning across Emma to wink at Coral.
Hed heard them, obviously.
Then he pressed his mouth close to Emmas ear.
It had been a long time since shed felt a boys lips brush her skin.
But not as cute as you.
She should have known better.
She did know better.
At least Coral and Hugo hadnt stayed long.
A party somewhere, Coral said, eyes brightand then they were gone.
(Translation: investigating why a girl named Elodie Callahan had been
murdered.)
and four or five bourbons too many.
Matt was not Charlie.
Could never be Charlie.
But Matt was there.
Sometimes there was enough.
And now here they were.
I DONT HAVE coffee, Emma said to move things along.
She liked them mixed half and half.
In Portland, shed favored espresso.
Dallas seemed to require something sweeter.
And as soon as Matt was out the door, she would brew a pot.
Anything she might have missed.
You look awfully young, Matt said.
He stood slowly, frowning, a thin wrinkle furrowing his brow.
Matt was not young.
Not old, either, but somewhere in the middle.
Surely no more than thirty.
Im twenty-one, Emma said.
Besides, the age on her drivers license was even true, from a certain perspective.
She had definitely lived twenty-one years.
She remembered bringing Matt home now.
Remembered eating those greasy tacos.
Give me a bite, hed said, grinning.
But she hadnt shared the taco.
Even drunk, Emma was particular about her food.
Theyd stumbled into the apartment, and her mood changed.
Shed flipped on the tiny Italian lights and forgotten to turn them off.
They were still twinkling in the branches.
Shed been very drunk.
It had been very late.
She should have focused on the case.
She should have trailed that guy shed followed, Elodies classmate, back to
his house.
Or made sure Coral got home from that party.
But it was just after Christmas, almost New Years.
Someone who wasntwould never beCharlie.
We could go to breakfast .
The offer did not sound particularly heartfelt.
He scratched the back of his head.
The word BELIEVE was tattooed in blue on his forearm.
Last night it had seemed the most interesting thing about him.
Emma had almost called him on it: Believe in what?
But even drunk, shed known that this question could have led anywhere.
Now she moved toward the window.
Clicked off the tiny Italian lights.
She felt sticky and tired, but the hangover was already fading, as it always did.
This was fun, she lied.
He needed to get the hint.
She needed to call Coral.
She needed to brush her teeth.
Matt took a step toward the bedroom door.
Emma watched as he patted his pockets, touching wallet and phone.
She could see their indentations against his thighs.
There was a spot of something that looked like queso on the left knee of his jeans.
She tried not to think of tacos, but her stomach was already recovering, too.
He paused, his gaze landing on the ornate gold-chained pocket watch hanging from the wall by her bed.
Didnt peg you for the old-fashioned throw in.
Maybe he meant that no one wore pocket watches these days, which was mostly true.
His gaze shifted back to her, looking her up and down.
You know you could pass for younger.
Good, he was done talking about the watch.
Now he was stuck on the age thing.
Maybe he was worried hed broken the law.
You killed it at history trivia, he said.
He paused, as if trying and then failing to remember any other salient details about the night.
In Emmas estimation, this was for the best for the both of them.
Matt hadnt broken the law, but he hadnt been good at history trivia, either.
Or movies, except war movies.
Matt could quote every war movie hed ever seen.
Matt had a definite thing for war movies.
Wanna know what Patton said about winning a battle?
hed asked and shed shrugged, which hed taken as a yes.
But the bourbon had muddled whatever his answer was.
See you later, she said now, a lie.
She handed him his striped dress shirt.
It smelled of beer and sweat and some kind of cologne that should have been a deal breaker.
Matt tucked the shirt over his arm rather than putting it on.
Then he smiled as if he wanted to say something gentlemanly, but thought better of it.
Having grown up before indoor plumbing, Emma had a keen adoration for endless hot water.
Then she dried and dressed and brushed her teeth.
They can only hide so much under expensive clothes, hed said.
She agreed with him about that.
Certainly shed known enough people who hid their evil under fancy outfits.
It didnt
take her long to admit that Pete was right about the teeth, too.
When it was ready, she took her cup to the balcony.
The weather had turned, the air warm and muggy, the sky heavy with clouds.
It reminded her of Florida.
Outside, Emma sipped, the flavor both bitter and sweet.
Underneath the almost tropical air, she could sense there was
something unsettled.
Texas weather shifted like that, fast and brutal.
Or maybe she was unsettled.
The possibility of
that sudden change made her think about the first time shed turned seventeen.
What would Matt would say if she told
him exactly how long ago that was?
In spite of the sentiment of his tattooBELIEVEshe doubted hed believe that.
In
Emmas substantive experience, people believed lies far more easily than the truth.
