Can an object be evil?
A carving, say, such as the one old Eddie Ahlquist dug out of the foreshore silt. Viking, he thought, like his ancestors. He restored it, fitted it to his sailing boat Draca as a figurehead, … and died raving, screaming that he tried to give it back. Cancer, the doctors said. It had spread to his brain by the end.
Eddie’s grandson Jack didn’t expect to inherit Draca, but then he and Eddie had always been close. A war-damaged veteran, Jack becomes obsessed with the boat, and like his grandfather he takes risks, finding a wild exhilaration in rough seas and stormy weather. Soon, it is as if the boat owns the man. Combat stress, say his family; his past is catching up with him. Jack’s controlling, disinherited father compounds the problem, pushing Jack ever closer to the edge.
But Georgina (‘George’) Fenton believes there is an even more sinister explanation. The boatyard manager’s feisty persona hides an unusual, psychic sensitivity. Personal, terrifying experience has shown her that that there is an unnatural malevolence within Draca, an evil she does not know how to fight. To her, Jack is not so much obsessed with his boat as possessed by it; both the boat and Jack seem bent on self-destruction.
As the storm of the decade looms over the horizon, George sees a cataclysmic confrontation building between Jack, his father, and a boat with a dark and ancient history to fulfil.
Every instinct tells her there will be no survivors.
Draca is complete and 99,000 words long. For publishing rights, please contact Ian Drury at Sheil Land Associates, Literary Agents.