Unforeseeable, that's what you are.

“You ever hear the one about The Ferryman?” Norm asked.

“Not for a long time.” Lucy told him.

“He’s the demon who takes people on his boat to Hell. He looks like death itself.” 

“Why would there need to be someone to take people to Hell? You die, and if you were bad, you go to Hell, and if you were good, you go to Heaven. There are no stories about a wagoner who takes people to Heaven.” 

Norm rolled his eyes at his sister’s lack of imagination. 

“He doesn’t take the dead there. He takes people who want to make a trade.” 

“Trade for what?” Lucy asked

“Souls.”

What was going through Cooper Howard’s head as his nose necrotized, and his skin mottled, and he lost himself and everything he ever stood for one act at a time.

I hurt myself today

To see if I still feel

I focus on the pain

The only thing that's real

Try to kill it all away

But I remember everything

What have I become?

My sweetest friend

Everyone I know goes away

In the end

Beneath the stains of time

The feelings disappear

You are someone else

I'm still right here

Summary

Every race is built on thousands of calculations. The best drivers ignore them. Lucy MacLean has spent her career believing every answer could be found in the data—until the numbers begin predicting people instead of races. As Formula One falls under the influence of Vault-Tec's powerful new technology, veteran driver Cooper Howard becomes the last variable that refuses to fit the model. Together, they'll discover that some things can't be simulated: instinct, choice...and the quiet kind of love that grows between two people who spend years learning each other one heartbeat at a time.

Race Condition is a slow-burn F1 romance, and Fallout origin story about instinct, optimism, and people who refuse to become predictable. Beneath the speed and spectacle lies a quieter story about routine, trust, and the extraordinary ways two people can change each other simply by showing up, race after race.

Sneak Peek

There was a particular kind of silence that only existed inside a Formula One garage before dawn. Not quiet—Formula One was never quiet—but a silence born of routine, of hundreds of people who knew exactly what had to be done and saw no reason to waste words while doing it. The circus hadn't arrived yet. That was how Cooper thought of it, anyway. In another hour the paddock would belong to television crews, hospitality guests, sponsors, FIA officials, and reporters who somehow managed to ask the same three questions every race weekend while sounding convinced they'd come up with something original. But right now... Right now the garage still belonged to the team. [...] Lucy MacLean didn't announce her arrival simply by walking into a room. If anything, she had an almost supernatural ability to slip into the background, crossing the garage with her attention already fixed on the tablet tucked beneath one arm as though she'd walked through those doors halfway through a thought and intended to finish it before acknowledging the rest of the world. Cooper noticed her before anyone else did. Not because she demanded attention. Because after eight years of working together, he'd learned the quiet rhythm of her entrances. Lucy always arrived looking as though the day had already begun an hour before everyone else caught up. [...] "You absolutely do not." "I object." "You've used the phrase 'statistically significant' before breakfast." "Because it is statistically significant." He laughed. "There are mornings I genuinely wonder whether you dream in spreadsheets." "I don't." "No?" "I dream in simulation outputs." He regarded her for a long, thoughtful moment before nodding once. "...That's somehow worse." [...] "I found it." He leaned beside her. "That sounded encouraging." "It isn't." "What did you find?" She traced one finger along the branching lines. "This model normally explores thousands of ways a race might unfold." "And now?" "It still explores them." She paused. "...It just keeps deciding they all end almost the same way." He frowned. "The drivers?" Lucy met his eyes. "Everyone."