The Green Bloods-Resurgence-Teaser-Meet Aiden Sweeney

The Green Bloods series is a multi-generational saga that follows the fortunes and the failings of the Nolan's and the O'Leary's from the year 1914 to present day, set against the historical events that shaped twentieth century Ireland and Irish Americans. What began as a screenplay and is still available in that format, over the course of seventeen years, the present-day storyline evolved into my first novel- The Green Bloods Resurgence.

It's my pleasure to share an excerpt from this novel, and introduce you to my favorite character, Aiden Sweeney, Irish Nationalist, Guerilla Fighter, and one of Jack Nolan's Green Bloods.

Chapter 5-Aiden Sweeney

Harry’s early-morning phone call startled Aiden out of a deep sleep, one he desperately needed. He took a cold, brisk shower, just enough to get clean, and then quickly tucked his piece, a British Special Forces standard-issued SIG Sauer P226, into the waistband of his pants and darted out the front door.

Dark, intimidating clouds stifled the early-morning sky. A forceful wind growled through leafless branches on tall, aged ash trees. A thin layer of ice and snow had coated the ground overnight. There was nothing but pure and absolute silence in this slumbering little town tucked beneath the breathtaking vista of Hope Valley. The tires spun as he firmly engaged the throttle on his new black Range Rover, a supercharged custom twin turbo V8. Then he peeled out of the driveway of his secluded property and home quaintly nestled between the enormous mountainous peaks and rolling green valleys of a tiny village called Castleton-Peak District. As he darted down the unpaved road, he thought, Thank God most of the renovations were finally done.

For such a burly meat-and-potatoes kind of guy, he chose a soft palate of calm, neutral colors for the new interior sheetrock walls. The thatched roof, windows, and glorious antique-arched English oak front door were repaired and restored to absolute perfection. Since cooking had become one of his new favorite pastimes, he allocated a great deal of attention and finances to upgrading the kitchen. It was a unique look, eclectic farmhouse meets French provincial, with exposed timbers, open shelves, and whitewashed wood trim set balanced by delicate muted wallpaper and wood panels. Two custom French doors led to a quaint parlor-tearoom that was steps away from a lovely bluestone patio surrounded by a peaceful garden of delicate foliage. A narrow stone path carved its way through the yard and into a secluded enchanted forest. White lanterns with shimmering lights and whimsical wind chimes ensnared the mind and enchanted the senses.

Aiden’s instructions were specific: the kitchen and surrounding gardens should be designed to complement each other and provide a private oasis of solitude and tranquility. These days, cooking and gazing out into the expansive and ornate gardens provided an escape from the insurmountable stress directly linked to his violent, war-torn past and this lifelong commitment and oath. As he rounded the corner and just before turning left onto the main road, Aiden had a clear view of the expansive property and was pleased with the refreshed and revitalized gardens, all credited to the prominent London landscape infamous architect who designed elaborate gardens for Queen Elizabeth II. Even now during the bitterly cold winter months and while driving at an excessive speed, the gardens and pools looked aesthetically pleasing.

Responding to the urgency in Harry’s voice on the phone this morning, Aiden drove faster than normal, taking several hairpin turns on the narrow country roads at excessive speed. In less than five minutes, he’d arrived at the secure crime scene.

The cave was crawling with the usual overpaid, gregarious undercover agents and top senior officials. He left the keys in the ignition and the car idling alongside the serpentine stone wall surrounding the cave property. He sashayed toward the main entrance of the popular tourist attraction called Speedwell Cavern. Physically and mentally exhausted from managing these feckin’ shites, he was in a foul, menacing mood, dressed appropriately for the occasion in camouflage pants, a vintage Fleetwood Mac world tour T-shirt, black army boots, and a worn brown leather jacket. On his head was a Manchester United Football cap, and even though it was not sunny, he was wearing classic Ray-Ban Wayfarer sunglasses.

Barely awake and desperate for a lukewarm cup of coffee with a dash of milk, Aiden wiped the remaining slumber from his eyes with thick, calloused fingers. Yawning and complaining about the ungodly hour, he approached the underground cave and flashed his credentials. Without a moment’s hesitation, he was cleared to pass through the first of many checkpoints. Cautiously, he descended the narrow, slippery spiral stairs to meet his travel guide. Underground water seeped through cracks in prehistoric wall formations as the clean, crisp air from above was suffocated by damp moisture oozing from the crusty earth. His therapist once said that certain smells could be the gateway to both the fondest and darkest memories, like a double-edged sword. Well, that bloke was right. His senses tingled, and the floodgates opened. Recalling many unpleasant childhood memories, he nervously shifted in his seat.

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The Green Bloods Resurgence is available for purchase on my website.

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