The Seven Series Books 1-3
1970, 1972, and 1973
Sarah M. Cradit
Copyright © 2018 Sarah M. Cradit
All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, at “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design by Sarah M. Cradit
Editing by Lawrence Editing
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Publisher Contact:
sarah@sarahmcradit.com
www.sarahmcradit.com
Preface
Welcome to the Seventies. A time many would call the most formative and pivotal of the last hundred years, where the world was on the verge of everything. If you’re my father, you’d say these first few years of the decade were the best time for music—ever. If you’re a reader of my House of Crimson & Clover series, then you’ll know that the ’70s is when the mothers and fathers of the Crimson & Clover generation came of age themselves. Where they made the decisions that would shape a future full of love and pain in equal measure.
You don’t need to have read The House of Crimson & Clover to read The Seven Series. This series stands on its own merits, a snapshot in fascinating time. In fact, I might even say that I’m envious of those readers who get to experience Colleen, Charles, and the others for the first time as the individuals they were before they were leading their own families. If you have read HoCC, you’ll see how the characters you love in the present became who they are.
In full disclosure, I was not alive in the ’70s. Although I was raised on the remnants of the era, including a steady diet of Crosby, Stills, & Nash, I did not live through this fascinating period in our history. To stay as true as possible to the era, I consulted people who did—including my own father, George Klepach, who was truly a man of his time. Another valuable resource for me was photographer and author Deborah Burst, who not only came of age in this era, but in New Orleans, where this series comes to life. Also, to the many others I solicited in my crowd-sourcing who helped me to get the slang, clothing, food, and other things dialed in—I sincerely thank you. The internet was sometimes a great help, and other times not helpful at all, when it came to searching for what stores were on what streets, in what neighborhoods, in certain years. If there wasn’t a Schwegmann’s on Tchoupitoulas in 1970, for example, well, that’s entirely my bad. I researched everything, but not everything had information available, so I made some educated guesses within context. As such, I want to be clear that any errors are my own.
Since the day I penned the histories of this fascinating family, I’ve wanted to write this series. The origins of the seven Deschanel children, each distinctive in their own ways, has long been a part of the series canon, and now I’m sharing it with you. I adore origin stories, and hope you’ll love this one as I do. Then again, I’m the reader who wishes J.K. Rowling would write that series about The Marauders already…
With all that said, enjoy the ride.
Also by Sarah M. Cradit
Kingdom of the White Sea
The Kingless Crown
The Broken Realm
and more
THE SAGA OF CRIMSON & CLOVER
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The House of Crimson and Clover Series
The Storm and the Darkness
Shattered
The Illusions of Eventide
Bound
Midnight Dynasty
Asunder
Empire of Shadows
Myths of Midwinter
The Hinterland Veil
The Secrets Amongst the Cypress
Within the Garden of Twilight
House of Dusk, House of Dawn
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Midnight Dynasty Series
A Tempest of Discovery
A Storm of Revelations
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The Seven Series
1970
1972
1973
1974
1975
1976
1980
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Vampires of the Merovingi Series
The Island
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Crimson & Clover Lagniappes (Bonus Stories)
Lagniappes are standalone stories that can be read in any order.
St. Charles at Dusk: The Story of Oz and Adrienne
Flourish: The Story of Anne Fontaine
Surrender: The Story of Oz and Ana
Shame: The Story of Jonathan St. Andrews
Fire & Ice: The Story of Remy & Fleur
Dark Blessing: The Landry Triplets
Pandora's Box: The Story of Jasper & Pandora
The Menagerie: Oriana’s Den of Iniquities
A Band of Heather: The Story of Colleen and Noah
The Ephemeral: The Story of Autumn & Gabriel
Banshee: The Story of Giselle Deschanel
For more information, and exciting bonus material, visit www.sarahmcradit.com
Contents
1970
The Seven in 1970
Spring 1970
Prologue: Irish Colleen and the Seven
1. The Altruist and the Adherent
2. Fortunate Son
3. Daydream Believer
4. A Night to Remember
5. The Heir, the Spare, and the Affair
Summer 1970
6. The Lines of Blanche and August
7. Fire & Rain
8. You Stupid Girl
9. It Only Stops When it Hits the Wall
10. Huck, What Have You Done?
Fall 1970
11. Disappearing
12. The Protector
13. White Rabbit
14. One Less Witch
15. The Measure of a Man
Winter 1970
16. But Then What?
17. Through the Chasm
18. We Are Not Partners
19. Dream a Little Dream of Me
20. The Letter
Epilogue: Irish Colleen and the Seven
1972
Preface
The Seven in 1972
Spring 1972
Prologue: Irish Colleen and the Seven
1. Love is the Answer. What was the Question?
2. A Curse by Any Other Name
3. Virgins and Super Freaks
4. The Odd Bird
5. Everything is Changing
Summer 1972
6. I See You
7. Sleeping Dogs and All That
8. I’m Gonna Marry Him One day
9. Everyone Just Dies
10. I Know What You Did
Fall 1972
11. Prepare For the Worst
12. A Careful Dance of Words and Intentions
13. The Mighty Steed
14. Nights in White Satin
15. Peace is at Hand
Winter 1972
16. She Needs Her Sister
17. You Can Close Your Eyes
18. Two Sides of the Coin
19. Never That Simple
20. Stairway to Heaven
Epilogue: Irish Colleen and the Seven
1973
Preface
The Seven in 1973
Spring 1973
Prolog
ue: Irish Colleen and the Seven
1. Elizabeth Has An Idea
2. A Major in Dance
3. Why Wait?
4. #1 Guy
5. To Change the Future
Summer 1973
6. Made in the USSR
7. Friend of a Friend
8. For the Sake of All
9. Only Lunch
10. It’s That Time
Fall 1973
11. Tantra
12. Strange Bedfellows
13. The Necklace
14. The Agreement
15. The Walk
Winter 1973
16. The Attempt
17. The Compromise
18. The Assault
19. The Answer
20. I’m Giving it Back
Epilogue: Irish Colleen and the Seven
Also by Sarah M. Cradit
Homes & Properties
Crimson & Clover Connections
About the Author
1970
The Seven Book 1
The Seven in 1970
Children of
August Deschanel (deceased) &
Colleen “Irish Colleen” Brady
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Charles August Deschanel, Aged 20
Augustus Charles Deschanel, Aged 19
Colleen Amelia Deschanel, Aged 18
Madeline Colleen Deschanel, Aged 17
Evangeline Julianne Deschanel, Aged 16
Maureen Amelia Deschanel, Aged 14
Elizabeth Jeanne Deschanel, Aged 11
For Madeline
SPRING 1970
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NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA
Prologue: Irish Colleen and the Seven
Colleen Deschanel, known as Irish Colleen to her family and friends, peeked her head into the bedrooms of her seven children at Oak Haven, one by one, as she did every night of her life.
When she swung the door open into the room of her oldest, Charles, she was met with an empty room and unmade bed. Of course he was gone. He was always gone, even when he was here. At what point would the shock of his perpetual absence become less acute? Would it ever not feel like disappointment, like failure? She sighed with her whole body. Whatever indiscretions littered Charles’ life on this night, they weren’t happening under this roof. Sometimes she wondered if it was simply better not to know.
Next, she checked on Augustus, whose face, softly glowing under a dim lamp, was pressed into one of his many business textbooks. He flashed her a brief, sweet smile before returning to his work. Augustus, who was far more like his father than Charles, who should have been the heir, but tradition reigned over reason.
Her boys, her only boys, could not be more different. Her heart ached for them both, for those differences, for much more.
At Colleen’s room, she was not surprised to see her eldest daughter turned in for the night, her bedtime set to perfect precision. She didn’t have to wake her to ask if her homework was finished, because she wouldn’t be sleeping with any tasks uncompleted. Colleen, her easy one. Too easy. Easy lightened the stress, but it did not always find a path to happiness.
Madeline was next. Irish Colleen paused before knocking. If August were still alive, he would understand her hesitation. He would feel her fears and read them without word, fully understanding how one day she expected to open the door and find Madeline gone, never to return. Her late husband could read a person like that, and sometimes Irish Colleen hated the intrusion, but mostly she grudgingly appreciated how it meant she rarely had to explain herself.
But Madeline was there, sitting cross-legged on her bed, flipping through a stack of records. Still dressed, her bell bottoms sagged over the edge of her comforter, long past her gaudy platform heels. You’ll break your neck one day. Madeline acknowledged her with a quick, sharp look, but the wounds of their last fight still burned too hot, and she dropped her eyes again.
Evangeline’s snores carried into the hallway, echoing off the ancient oak of the old Victorian. Evangeline always slept like a rock, and Irish Colleen suspected it was because her daughter’s brain exhausted her. She was a genius, tested and all, and Irish Colleen was not, so she did not know how to handle her curious, high-wired child with the wild hair and thoughts. There was no one to ask. No one to help.
Irish Colleen’s hand paused on her bedroom door, and then she went on, to Maureen, who, like Madeline, was also not speaking to her at present. That God had blessed her with five girls was undoubtedly penance for her sins, but she loved them all, even when they couldn’t find it within themselves to love her back.
Maureen was mercifully asleep, but Irish Colleen still blew a kiss across the air. Their thing, when they weren’t too angry with one another to have a thing.
As always, Irish Colleen stopped last at Elizabeth. Her youngest, Lizzy, fell into the role of the consummate baby of the family without much effort. Her need for solitude troubled Irish Colleen, but not near as much as the moments Elizabeth clung to her, helpless and afraid. Every night was a roll of the dice as to what awaited when she came to tuck her in.
All her children possessed peculiar gifts, but none as potent or as tormented as Elizabeth’s.
Moonlight spilled through the dormer window and onto the floor before her youngest daughter’s room. This nightly sight often put Irish Colleen’s anxious heart at ease. As a devout Catholic, she knew there were signs everywhere, and this was God telling her he would pick up in protecting Elizabeth where Irish Colleen’s limits stretched beyond their earthly capability. God punished, but he also provided. Protected.
Irish Colleen slipped inside the bedroom. Her heart seized at the sight of Elizabeth sitting bolt upright in her bed, drenched in her own sweat. Her hair and nightgown clung to her, hitching in weird places. Her hands twisted in her lap as she rocked.
Lord, she is too young to carry such burdens. She’s only eleven. This is no childhood.
But Elizabeth’s burden was not a gift from God, and Irish Colleen knew that, just as her other children’s abilities were not. An eleven-year-old who could divine the future was no blessing, but it was surely a curse. If Irish Colleen spent too long considering this, she knew precisely who sent such gifts.
“Mama.” The words fell from Elizabeth’s lips with hardly a sound.
“Baby.” Irish Colleen gathered her sweet girl in her arms. With one hand, she lifted the soaking nightgown off Elizabeth’s body, and with the other, she felt around in the drawer beside the bed for a clean shift. Elizabeth sat in limp retreat as her mother changed her like an infant, despite that her body had begun to shift beyond the innocence of childhood.
There was nothing she could do to dry the hair quickly, so she pulled in behind Elizabeth and went to work on braiding her long, thick hair. “Why didn’t you call me in?”
“I knew you’d come.” Elizabeth sagged in front of her.
Of course you did. “Do you want to talk about what happened today? At school?”
Elizabeth tensed. “Charles is in trouble.”
Irish Colleen held her sigh. Diversions were common with Elizabeth, a defense mechanism that proved perpetually troublesome for her both in school and at home. “When is Charles not in some kind of trouble?” she said. “Unless you’re telling me he’s in immediate danger? Right this moment?” She stopped her fingers. “Is that what you’re saying?”
Elizabeth hung her head. “No, Mama.”
“No, I didn’t think so.” Irish Colleen resumed her plaiting. “I can tell, Lizzy, the difference between when you really see something and when you want me to stop asking questions. Right now, you want me to stop asking questions. Don’t you?”
Elizabeth’s chest heaved with a heavy sob.
“But we both know I would never be angry with you for something you can’t control. Your teachers, the kids at school, they don’t understand. But I do, Lizzy.” August, damn you. You died and left me to cultivate who they are, and when you were alive you never
wanted to talk about it. You passed these gifts to them, and you should be the one having these talks. Guiding them through the pains.
“Mrs. Larsen told me…” Elizabeth swallowed down her emotion and pulled her shoulders back. Irish Colleen’s brave girl. “She said I could tell her anything.”