Lisa Bergren's Waterfall is the break out book of the year! Serena and I are both so excited about this series, and you know when we find an author we're excited about stalking ensues. Lisa made the job pretty easy when she gave us the scoop of the summer- a deleted scene from her newest release, Cascade! Read on friends...
The last thing you threw away:
I throw away as much as I can. I hate clutter and still manage to have a cluttered house, even though I make frequent trips to Goodwill to donate.
A brand of breakfast cereal in your pantry:
Three things in your purse:
Gum, emergency dark chocolate, Advil
Something that will fall out of your medicine cabinet when I swing it open:
A Costco size box of disposable razors. Three females in the house now shaving.
A scene from your rough draft that didn't make the novel and why:
What follows is a deleted scene from CASCADE. Why’d I kill it? Because (a) I wasn’t ready for Fortino to die; (b) editor thought the whole “marry her,” thing was cheesy and I agreed; (c) I ultimately went in a different direction with Romana’s role and the war’s timeline. It became clear that it just had to go…
We were ready, hands washed, cot waiting, when they brought him in, each of four men carrying a corner of the blanket.
Or at least I thought I was ready. When I saw Fortino, naked except for Marcello’s cape, tossed across his waist, skin flayed on chest and back from multiple whip wounds, I took a step back. Marcello hovered at his head and looked to us, desperation in his eyes.
Mom paused beside me, then touched my arm. “Follow me,” she said, stepping up beside Fortino. He labored to breathe, obviously in a full asthma attack.
“M-m-m’lady,” he gasped, taking my hand, his eyes wild. Marcello held his other.
“Oh, Fortino,” I said, shaking my head in grief. To beat him so, a prisoner…I had to do something, anything. “Hot water, lots of it,” I said, reverting back in time to another moment when I almost lost him. “And clean cloths.”
“Steam? Good idea,” Mom said. “We’ll also need water and lye and ointment for his wounds. And wine, a great deal of it.”
Lia paced in the corner, looking green with nausea, and eagerly set off to help fetch what we’d asked for, alongside Luca. I breathed a sigh of relief when she was gone, trying to focus, figure out what had to come first. How I—we—could best save Fortino. Mom’s presence comforted, steadied me. It was like we were in their workshop, the one she’d always shared with Dad, methodically putting together an Etruscan vase again, piece by piece.
She leaned over Fortino, touching an unscathed portion of his shoulder, leaning close to listen to his breathing.
“I shall hunt them down,” Marcello was promising Fortino. “Every last one of them. They shall rue the day they ever took whip or bludgeon to you.”
“Asthma,” I said to Mom, studying each whip wound. “Nearly lost him to it a few months past.”
Mom’s blue eyes met mine, acknowledging that I referenced the last time I had been here. “And since?”
“Once we got it under control, he made a remarkable recovery.” Not that you could tell now. Each breath sounded like a sea lion’s bark. “He gained weight. Life—he really was living again.” I studied him. Romana. Would he die before he ever reached the altar?
He was pulling at my hand. Marcello’s too. His lips tried to form a word, but then he gave up.
“Breathe, Fortino,” I said lowly, leaning toward his ear, willing calm into my voice, hoping it’d transfer to him. It looked bad. Really bad. I’m so sorry, Fortino, I thought, stroking his hair. Sorry that you didn’t get the chance to marry. To explore love. I’m sorry…
He turned his head and looked into my eyes. Then he looked up at Marcello. He yanked his brother’s hand atop mine and uttered one word. “Marry.”
Marcello and I frowned at him and then at each other. What was this?
He squeezed our hands and looked at us both, urging us to understand what he could not say more about. What? Did he fear he’d die before he gave us his blessing?
When his breathing seemed worse as his agitation grew, Marcello said, “I intend to take her as my bride,” he said, glancing up at me and Mom. “If she’ll have me, that is. And if her mother blesses such a union.”
I felt the heat of a blush rise fast, like a wave in the ocean.
Mom’s face totally said Well, We’re Certainly Going to Have to Talk About THAT Later.
Meanwhile, Marcello’s face darkened at my hesitation.
And Fortino was working himself into a frenzy. “N-now!” he said, then gasped for breath.
“What? Fortino, let us see you to health, and then we shall discuss my union with Gabriella, as well as your own.”
Fortino jerked his eyes toward Marcello, almost like he was willing him to understand.
“It’s Romana,” I said softly. “You found out something about Romana?”
He closed his eyes and nodded, relief in his face.
“You wish me to marry,” Marcello said, “because you wish for me to be Lord Forelli and Gabriella my lady?”
He blinked in response and gave him the barest of nods.
Marcello looked back up at me and lifted a brow.
He couldn’t be serious. “Here?” I sputtered. “Now? Nay, ‘tis hardly a time for such a thing.”
“In times of war, such things transpire among the nobility,” Marcello said.
“Yes, well this shall have to wait,” Mom intervened. “Forgive me, Sir Marcello. You seem like a fine young man. But in Normandy, we do things differently.”
The name of every book you've ever published (so we can track 'em all down):
NOVELS: Refuge, Torchlight, Treasure, Chosen, Firestorm, Pathways, The Captain's Bride, Deep Harbor, Midnight Sun, The Bridge, Christmas Every Morning (getting re-released in August as Mercy Come Morning), The Begotten, The Betrayed, The Blessed, Breathe, Sing, Claim, Waterfall, Cascade and Torrent (September 2011)
CHILDREN'S BOOKS: God Gave Us You, God Gave Us Two, God Gave Us Christmas, God Gave Us Heaven, God Gave Us Love, God Gave Us the World, God Gave Us So Much, How Big is God?, God Found Us You
NONFICTION: What Women Want, The Busy Mom's Devotional, God Encounter, Life on Planet Mom
Your favorite not-quite-a-curse word:
One lousy job from your past:
Housekeeper at a motel--the things I had to pick up behind guests! Ewwww!
What sounds might a feline stalker hear hanging around outside your kitchen window?
"Kids! Get up here and empty the dishwasher!" "Have you done your homework?" "I need you to think--think through a job, just don't do it halfway." "Time to eat!" *laughter* "Let's play cards." "Oh, you are so going to lose." "That's cheating!"
What would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates:
"Hey, there. I've been waiting a long time for you."
Lisa T. Bergren is a wife (of 1), mom (of 3), writer (of as much as she can), occasional freelance editor and follower of God. She lives in Colorado Springs and enjoys good conversation over fine meals and decent wine, as well as traveling as much as she possibly can. Her family travel web site is www.theworldiscalling.com and she tweets as @TheWorldCalls when she has her travel blogger hat on. When she has her author hat on, you can find her at www.LisaBergren.com and on Twitter as @LisaTBergren.