L.M. Pruitt's Blog, page 11
March 8, 2012
Random Thursday--The City That Never Sleeps
(This originally posted during the Taken Blog Tour at Book Savvy Babe)
The City That Never Sleeps New York. The Big Apple. The City of Skyscrapers. Gotham City. The City that Never Sleeps. There are a hundred nicknames for New York, a thousand things to see and a million places to go. Now, obviously I'm not going to be able to highlight all those places. Instead, I'm going to detail a little more some of the ones mentioned in Taken.First up—Trailer Park Lounge and Grill. Located at 271 W. 23 Street in Chelsea, the Trailer Park is southern tackiness at its finest. Complete with black velvet paintings on the walls and Pabst Blue Ribbon in the can, the establishment definitely lives up to its name. The menu is heavy on traditional bar or bowling alley snack food, with names like the double-wide burger and even throws down the gauntlet by offering sloppy joes in beef, chicken, or veggie. Drinks include huge cocktails such as the Lover's Concerto and Jim Bob's IQ. Like I said, southern tackiness—and kitsch—at its finest.Now, I'll admit that both Ugly Willie's and Low Places are straight from my crazy mind, but that's not saying there aren't places like them in a city known for its cosmopolitan flavor. Off the Wagon in Greenwich Village, while not being bad enough to require a Hazmat suite, is definitely on the lower end of the spectrum. Seriously—I did a search for dive bars, and this popped up on the list. It's very much a beer and wings hangout, with 14 beers available, most if not all of them by the pitcher. And while I'm not a fan of beer myself, I can appreciate a great drink special just as much as anybody.Strip clubs are a dime for… well, more than a dozen. And yes, the area around Ground Zero is as seedy as depicted. For those with more refined tastes, might I suggest Sapphire Gentlemen Club? They offer bottle service, an extensive list of wines and champagne, and complimentary concierge services. Oh, and did I mention they also do bachelor and bachelorette parties along with divorce parties? A little something for everyone, as the case might be.While I could keep going—after all, it is New York—I'm going to end our little tour there. For one, thinking about a double-wide burger has me hungry. And for two, I don't want to end up sounding too much like a guide book.But mostly it's because of the burger.
The City That Never Sleeps New York. The Big Apple. The City of Skyscrapers. Gotham City. The City that Never Sleeps. There are a hundred nicknames for New York, a thousand things to see and a million places to go. Now, obviously I'm not going to be able to highlight all those places. Instead, I'm going to detail a little more some of the ones mentioned in Taken.First up—Trailer Park Lounge and Grill. Located at 271 W. 23 Street in Chelsea, the Trailer Park is southern tackiness at its finest. Complete with black velvet paintings on the walls and Pabst Blue Ribbon in the can, the establishment definitely lives up to its name. The menu is heavy on traditional bar or bowling alley snack food, with names like the double-wide burger and even throws down the gauntlet by offering sloppy joes in beef, chicken, or veggie. Drinks include huge cocktails such as the Lover's Concerto and Jim Bob's IQ. Like I said, southern tackiness—and kitsch—at its finest.Now, I'll admit that both Ugly Willie's and Low Places are straight from my crazy mind, but that's not saying there aren't places like them in a city known for its cosmopolitan flavor. Off the Wagon in Greenwich Village, while not being bad enough to require a Hazmat suite, is definitely on the lower end of the spectrum. Seriously—I did a search for dive bars, and this popped up on the list. It's very much a beer and wings hangout, with 14 beers available, most if not all of them by the pitcher. And while I'm not a fan of beer myself, I can appreciate a great drink special just as much as anybody.Strip clubs are a dime for… well, more than a dozen. And yes, the area around Ground Zero is as seedy as depicted. For those with more refined tastes, might I suggest Sapphire Gentlemen Club? They offer bottle service, an extensive list of wines and champagne, and complimentary concierge services. Oh, and did I mention they also do bachelor and bachelorette parties along with divorce parties? A little something for everyone, as the case might be.While I could keep going—after all, it is New York—I'm going to end our little tour there. For one, thinking about a double-wide burger has me hungry. And for two, I don't want to end up sounding too much like a guide book.But mostly it's because of the burger.
March 7, 2012
Writing Wednesday--Combining Business and Fun
Woohoo! So, I've been in New York a few days, and I've been living it up. But--I've also been working. Why? Because I'm a nutcase. And because I always like to actually be able to look at a place I'm writing about. While I'm doing some research for a Frankie Post book down the line (yes, they'll eventually make it back to New York), I'm really doing research for Winged.
One of the things about Winged that I love is the historical aspect. I love being able to incorporate real places and events into books. Growing up, I'd often read romance novels set in a certain time or place, and afterwards would find myself reading non-fiction books about what interested me. Yes, I'm a dork, but this little quirk made college pretty damn easy and more fun than it otherwise might have been.
The second training exercise detailed in Winged is a recreation of the Stonewall Riots. If you don't know what those are and feel the urge to Wikipedia them real quick, don't feel bad. Those two words were part of a throwaway line in the Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child book Reliquary. No reference, no real purpose other than a contrast point. But it was enough to spike my interest--although not until much later, I'll admit (hey, I read the book when I was 15--give me a break).
In a nutshell, the Stonewall Riots served as a wake up call for the LGBT community. The events that occured June 28, 1969 were a springboard for the same issues that we're still dealing with today. The fight for LGBT rights is not new by any means, although we are now, at last, making inroads, in much the same way it took women and minorities alike decades to have their voices heard. If there's anything to be learned from these movements, it's that change is like a fire.
It only needs a spark to grow into an inferno.
One of the things about Winged that I love is the historical aspect. I love being able to incorporate real places and events into books. Growing up, I'd often read romance novels set in a certain time or place, and afterwards would find myself reading non-fiction books about what interested me. Yes, I'm a dork, but this little quirk made college pretty damn easy and more fun than it otherwise might have been.
The second training exercise detailed in Winged is a recreation of the Stonewall Riots. If you don't know what those are and feel the urge to Wikipedia them real quick, don't feel bad. Those two words were part of a throwaway line in the Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child book Reliquary. No reference, no real purpose other than a contrast point. But it was enough to spike my interest--although not until much later, I'll admit (hey, I read the book when I was 15--give me a break).
In a nutshell, the Stonewall Riots served as a wake up call for the LGBT community. The events that occured June 28, 1969 were a springboard for the same issues that we're still dealing with today. The fight for LGBT rights is not new by any means, although we are now, at last, making inroads, in much the same way it took women and minorities alike decades to have their voices heard. If there's anything to be learned from these movements, it's that change is like a fire.
It only needs a spark to grow into an inferno.
March 6, 2012
The Tuesday Buildup--A Photojournal of Sorts
As promised, a few photos I use for inspiration. There's nothing too special about them, just pictures that I like.
Pretty sure this is Tom Brown Park. The only thing I would have loved better would have been a pond somewhere
Just a random spot in the path. For whatever reason, I liked it.
Taken on one of the nature trails at Tom Brown Park
I ended up using this as the background for the cover of Harvest Moon Rising--nice, right?
Taken at the Tallahassee Junior Museum in one of the swamp areas. Nice and spooky.
Also taken at TJM. They have an entire area that used to be a working farm. Pretty awesome
Pretty sure this is Tom Brown Park. The only thing I would have loved better would have been a pond somewhere
Just a random spot in the path. For whatever reason, I liked it.
Taken on one of the nature trails at Tom Brown Park
I ended up using this as the background for the cover of Harvest Moon Rising--nice, right?
Taken at the Tallahassee Junior Museum in one of the swamp areas. Nice and spooky.
Also taken at TJM. They have an entire area that used to be a working farm. Pretty awesome
March 5, 2012
Media Monday--New York, New York
So here's a question for everybody--why is it that New York is always one of the cities, if not the only one, that gets destroyed during a disaster? Seriously. Off the top of my head, I can list more than a few movies that revolve around the destruction of New York.
Independence Day. The Day After Tomorrow. Godzilla. Ghostbusters (1 and 2). Sex and the City. (okay, the last one is a bit much, but still, you get what I mean)
And those are just the ones that are New York specific. I'm not even talking about the ones where everything gets destroyed. 2012. Dawn of the Dead. Knowing. And let's not even get started about my thoughts on Knowing--absolutely the worst movie I've every seen, and I've seen horror movies that made me laugh.
The point is, New York always gets the short end of the stick. Why? Is Hollywood just annoyed with the entire damn island and feels the need to take it out via cinema? Is it just an East Coast/West Coast thing? I mean, is THERE a reason?
Here's my theory--New York is a symbol of America. Let's face it, even if you hate the city--and there are a few people who do--it's something we all recognize and sort of take it to heart as our own. One of the quickest ways to get the movie viewer on the side of the "good guy" is to destroy something they hold dear.
Sorry, New York. Don't take it personal.
Tomorrow--a few pics of something not New York related: the sort of stuff I look at when I'm feeling uninspired writing Harvest Moon Rising, and usually get a little inspired. Until then...
Independence Day. The Day After Tomorrow. Godzilla. Ghostbusters (1 and 2). Sex and the City. (okay, the last one is a bit much, but still, you get what I mean)
And those are just the ones that are New York specific. I'm not even talking about the ones where everything gets destroyed. 2012. Dawn of the Dead. Knowing. And let's not even get started about my thoughts on Knowing--absolutely the worst movie I've every seen, and I've seen horror movies that made me laugh.
The point is, New York always gets the short end of the stick. Why? Is Hollywood just annoyed with the entire damn island and feels the need to take it out via cinema? Is it just an East Coast/West Coast thing? I mean, is THERE a reason?
Here's my theory--New York is a symbol of America. Let's face it, even if you hate the city--and there are a few people who do--it's something we all recognize and sort of take it to heart as our own. One of the quickest ways to get the movie viewer on the side of the "good guy" is to destroy something they hold dear.
Sorry, New York. Don't take it personal.
Tomorrow--a few pics of something not New York related: the sort of stuff I look at when I'm feeling uninspired writing Harvest Moon Rising, and usually get a little inspired. Until then...
March 2, 2012
Food Friday--Oh, God. I am SO Hungry!
That's pretty much it. I forgot until the last minute that I can't eat meat on Fridays--again--and so I haven't had a very filling day of food. I wish I had more to say, but, well...I have to get to packing. My flight leaves in less than 48 hours! Super excited!
February 29, 2012
Writing Wednesday--I May Have Shot Myself in the Foot
And after that cheerful title, let's begin, shall we?
Have you ever known you can do something, but you just keep putting it off and putting it off and putting it off until suddenly you're like, "Oh, crap. I am up a creek without a paddle."? Yes, that would be where I am.
When I made the decision to push the writing envelope this year, I was not anticipating having to work a month of management shifts. And while a month may not seem like the longest time, it is such a time sucker, it deserves some sort of name I can't think of at the moment. As a result, I'm behind. Not that I haven't been behind before, but I don't like it anymore this time than I did previous times.
I'm a planner. People joke I could plan a war or a wedding given the same amount of time for both and both would be a success. My internal schedule is thrown off right now by a variety of things, internal and external, and it's freaking me out. I can adjust to a thrown off schedule, but it annoys the ever loving daylights out of me.
So, like I said--I may have shot myself in the foot. Now the question is: do I keep letting it bleed, or do I bandage the joker and keep marching?
Three guesses which one I'm planning on doing.
Countdown to vacation: THREE DAYS.
Have you ever known you can do something, but you just keep putting it off and putting it off and putting it off until suddenly you're like, "Oh, crap. I am up a creek without a paddle."? Yes, that would be where I am.
When I made the decision to push the writing envelope this year, I was not anticipating having to work a month of management shifts. And while a month may not seem like the longest time, it is such a time sucker, it deserves some sort of name I can't think of at the moment. As a result, I'm behind. Not that I haven't been behind before, but I don't like it anymore this time than I did previous times.
I'm a planner. People joke I could plan a war or a wedding given the same amount of time for both and both would be a success. My internal schedule is thrown off right now by a variety of things, internal and external, and it's freaking me out. I can adjust to a thrown off schedule, but it annoys the ever loving daylights out of me.
So, like I said--I may have shot myself in the foot. Now the question is: do I keep letting it bleed, or do I bandage the joker and keep marching?
Three guesses which one I'm planning on doing.
Countdown to vacation: THREE DAYS.
February 28, 2012
The Tuesday Buildup--New Cover for New Moon Rising
In honor of the forthcoming release of Harvest Moon Rising (mid to late April), I've done some spiffing up of New Moon Rising. My fabulous editor, Lea Ellen Borg, has gone through and done some touch up editing. And--get this--I slaved away on Photoshop and produced a new cover. See below:
Fairly awesome, yes? Let me tell you, I'm beyond excited about that. It took me some insane time--like 5 hours--and I nearly pulled my hair out. My hat is totally off to my normal cover creater, Kendra Lee Egert, because if I had to do this on a daily basis, I'd totally shoot myself. But as a learning experience and all around different thing to do, it was fun.
Tomorrow...I'm not sure, entirely. I'll figure it out. Countdown to New York: 4 DAYS!
Fairly awesome, yes? Let me tell you, I'm beyond excited about that. It took me some insane time--like 5 hours--and I nearly pulled my hair out. My hat is totally off to my normal cover creater, Kendra Lee Egert, because if I had to do this on a daily basis, I'd totally shoot myself. But as a learning experience and all around different thing to do, it was fun.
Tomorrow...I'm not sure, entirely. I'll figure it out. Countdown to New York: 4 DAYS!
February 24, 2012
Food Friday!--UhOh...
So. Lent has started. I finally figured out what I was going to give up, although I was down to the wire. And while some people think it's silly, I decided to give up ice cream. Yes, it's winter, but in case you've missed the news, it's unseasonably warm here in Florida--and quite frankly, I really, really like ice cream. Breyer's is my first choice, but I'll play with some Ben & Jerry's or Dove.
So, no ice cream until Easter. This will drive me a little crazy, but won't be the death of me. What will?
No meat on Friday.
I know, I completely forgot! I had actually ordered my breakfast, and was getting ready to enjoy a nice carb-free meal of country sausage and eggs when I had a table of regulars come in. I was in the middle of pouring their coffee, wondering what they'd have to do--as they're staunch Catholics--and it hit me. It's Friday.
Damn. No meat.
I'm not really Catholic. Meaning, if I feel the urge to go to church, I'll go to Mass, but I'm not an official member of the Catholic Church. Still, I do my best to observe the rites of Lent as much as possible. Which means--say it with me now--no meat on Friday.
This is a severe problem--because I'm supposed to be on a high protein, low carb diet. And if I can't eat meat, this is going to be a little difficult, to say the least.
Now, you may be wondering why I used the words "supposed to be". It's actually under doctor's orders. I was diagnosed with PCOS--polycystic ovarian syndrome. To make a long story short, my body is confused. My insulin levels are constantly screwy, even though I don't have diabetes or any of it's subsets. Since they're so screwy, my body pretty much just shunts the sugars of simple carbs into excess fat. The result--no periods (which is kind of great), excess weight gain, and infertility. I have a mild case, meaning the smallest dosage of progesterone tends to straighten things out, but it's still something that has to be dealt with. The simplest, non-medical intervention way? Stay away from simple carbs and focus on complex carbs and proteins.
Meaning--meat.
Now are we seeing the problem?
So, Fridays are going to be interesting. I have to keep my carb usage to a minimum--meaning less than 50% of what the normal daily recomended allowance would be--and not starve to death. This may present some problems.
But--it's Lent. The season of sacrifice. I guess the only way to look at it is to say I'm making a super big sacrifice this year.
So, no ice cream until Easter. This will drive me a little crazy, but won't be the death of me. What will?
No meat on Friday.
I know, I completely forgot! I had actually ordered my breakfast, and was getting ready to enjoy a nice carb-free meal of country sausage and eggs when I had a table of regulars come in. I was in the middle of pouring their coffee, wondering what they'd have to do--as they're staunch Catholics--and it hit me. It's Friday.
Damn. No meat.
I'm not really Catholic. Meaning, if I feel the urge to go to church, I'll go to Mass, but I'm not an official member of the Catholic Church. Still, I do my best to observe the rites of Lent as much as possible. Which means--say it with me now--no meat on Friday.
This is a severe problem--because I'm supposed to be on a high protein, low carb diet. And if I can't eat meat, this is going to be a little difficult, to say the least.
Now, you may be wondering why I used the words "supposed to be". It's actually under doctor's orders. I was diagnosed with PCOS--polycystic ovarian syndrome. To make a long story short, my body is confused. My insulin levels are constantly screwy, even though I don't have diabetes or any of it's subsets. Since they're so screwy, my body pretty much just shunts the sugars of simple carbs into excess fat. The result--no periods (which is kind of great), excess weight gain, and infertility. I have a mild case, meaning the smallest dosage of progesterone tends to straighten things out, but it's still something that has to be dealt with. The simplest, non-medical intervention way? Stay away from simple carbs and focus on complex carbs and proteins.
Meaning--meat.
Now are we seeing the problem?
So, Fridays are going to be interesting. I have to keep my carb usage to a minimum--meaning less than 50% of what the normal daily recomended allowance would be--and not starve to death. This may present some problems.
But--it's Lent. The season of sacrifice. I guess the only way to look at it is to say I'm making a super big sacrifice this year.
February 23, 2012
Random Thursday!--Almost Vacation Time!
I'm down to single digit days before vacation! I still need to buy my luggage, though. And I need Amazon to give me my money. Ok, that I don't really need until like the third of March, but I like to be prepared.
I'm still not entirely sure of everything I'm going to do while in New York. I'm definitely doing some of the usual tourist stuff--Empire State Building, Statue of Liberty, Museum of Natural History, the Met, Bronx Zoo....and then there are a ton and a half of museums downtown. I really don't think I'll get to even half of the things I want, but I'm damn well gonna try.
I'm not big on nightlife, but I'm going to hit up a few places. The owner of the business I work for told me I have to go to Don't Tell Mama. I want to check out The Stonewall Inn (for research purposes), and I'm always up to head down to a dive bar. I like dive bars. They're wonderfully unpretentious and usually have great--and cheap--drinks.
I'm also not big on shopping, but I'm going to have to do some. Hello, I'm in New York. If I didn't do some shopping of some variety I'd feel like I wasted a great opportunity. Besides, my sister's ten year anniversary and my friend's daughter's birthday are like the week after, so I can get them awesome gifts.
If I find a show I want to see--and I'm willing to pay the highway robbery prices for--I'm going to take in a show on Broadway. I'm nervous here, because everyone tells me to wait and buy tickets from the day-of booth in Times Square, but I'm such a planner, this is freaking me out. At the same time, since I really don't care what I see, this is definitely the best idea.
As of this post, I've got NINE DAYS. The excitement alone may kill me.
I'm still not entirely sure of everything I'm going to do while in New York. I'm definitely doing some of the usual tourist stuff--Empire State Building, Statue of Liberty, Museum of Natural History, the Met, Bronx Zoo....and then there are a ton and a half of museums downtown. I really don't think I'll get to even half of the things I want, but I'm damn well gonna try.
I'm not big on nightlife, but I'm going to hit up a few places. The owner of the business I work for told me I have to go to Don't Tell Mama. I want to check out The Stonewall Inn (for research purposes), and I'm always up to head down to a dive bar. I like dive bars. They're wonderfully unpretentious and usually have great--and cheap--drinks.
I'm also not big on shopping, but I'm going to have to do some. Hello, I'm in New York. If I didn't do some shopping of some variety I'd feel like I wasted a great opportunity. Besides, my sister's ten year anniversary and my friend's daughter's birthday are like the week after, so I can get them awesome gifts.
If I find a show I want to see--and I'm willing to pay the highway robbery prices for--I'm going to take in a show on Broadway. I'm nervous here, because everyone tells me to wait and buy tickets from the day-of booth in Times Square, but I'm such a planner, this is freaking me out. At the same time, since I really don't care what I see, this is definitely the best idea.
As of this post, I've got NINE DAYS. The excitement alone may kill me.
February 21, 2012
Tuesday Buildup--Excerpt Time!
Yeah, it's been a little while since we did a teaser for Harvest Moon Rising. Without further ado...
"Mr. and Mrs. Gravier." The genteel looking older man, whitedoctor's coat fluttering around his thin frame, extended a hand. "I'm Dr.Edwards. Thank you for coming in today.""Ms. Gravier. Mr. Sullivan." Mike shookEdwards hand. "We're divorced."
Edwards blinked, the handshake slowing."Well. This is different."
"You can't begin to imagine how." I sankinto the chair, dropped my bag on the floor. "Cari Gravier."
"Ms. Gravier." Apparently still stunnedby Mike's bombshell, Edwards straightened his tie, eased down into his ownchair behind a massive desk. Light bounced off the shiny dome of his head,blinding me until he shifted in his seat. "I've had a chance to look over yourfile."
"I'm sure it made for entertainingbedtime reading." I'd given up after two pages. Not because I couldn'tunderstand, although there were words and phrases I'd had to feed into Google.It just made my stomach turn to read about one of the worst nights of my life,reduced to dry, medical jargon. "I looked you up. The testimonials on your siteare quite impressive."
"New Life Fertility works hard to helpboth couples and individuals in their reproductive needs." Even though I'm surethe line was propaganda, Edwards delivered it with enough emotion to beconvincing. "We understand how difficult the road to conception can be, and doour best to ease it."
"Let's cut to the chase, Doc." Mikesettled back in his chair, propped one booted ankle on his knee. "Can youhelp?"
"Don't mind him, Dr. Edwards." The look Islanted Mike's direction was sharp enough to etch glass. "His bark is worsethan his bite."
"Uh, well." Edwards shuffled some paperson his desk, opened a file. "I'll be blunt, Ms. Gravier. Your uterus has severescarring, very severe. I will tell you I've seen worse, but not by much."
I nodded, swallowed once. Even Doc Morrisand his outdated sonogram machine had been able to tell me that much. "But?"
"But, the scar tissue is limited to onearea of the uterus." Edwards pulled out a grainy photo, flipped it around,pointed at a spot. "This makes things difficult, but not impossible."
"Makes what not impossible?" Mikestraightened, his foot dropping to the floor. I reached out blindly, bore downwhen his fingers laced with mine.
Edwards blinked, looked from me to Mikeand back again. "Why, conceiving, of course."
"The doctors told me I'd never conceive.Period, point blank, end of the road." My vision blurred and I closed my eyes,fought back tears before opening them. "What are you seeing that they didn't?"
"Well, your miscarriage and the resultingscarring occurred five years ago, Ms. Gravier. Five years ago, we didn't know anumber of things we do now." Edwards shuffled his papers around, tapped themtogether. "And like I said, conception isn't impossible. Merely difficult.Although even that is something of an overstatement."
"Overstatement? Doc, we're from a smalltown in Georgia. Understatement we get, overstatement?" Mike laughed, the soundshaky, hoarse. His fingers trembled against mine. "Break this down, okay?"
"We can surgically remove enough of thescar tissue to ensure a better than average chance of a fetus reaching fullterm." Edwards opened a drawer, withdrew a small brochure. "Nothing is onehundred percent certain, as I'm sure you can imagine, but there's a very highsuccess rate with surgeries like this."
"Surgery." I sagged back into the chair,sighed. "That may be a problem."
"She's allergic to anathesia. And painkillers. And pretty much anything you could give her to knock her out." Mikedropped my hand, rubbed the nape of his neck.
"How allergic?" Edwards picked up a pen,scrawled something on the top sheet of paper.
"She could die."
"If it's too strong, or stays in mybloodstream for too long." I wet my lips, dug my nails into my palm. "We'venever tried a local."
"Because it's too dangerous." Mike'svoice started to slide into a growl. He caught himself, cleared his throat."Sorry, Doc. It's good news, but not really."
"How do we know it's too dangerous ifwe've never tried?" I shot the question at Mike, turned my attention back toEdwards. "Can you do the surgery with a local?"
"I would have to check, to be honest withyou. I'm sure there have been other patients with similar allergies, it's justa matter of finding the case materials." Edwards blinked at Mike's snort. "Isthere a problem, Mr. Sullivan?"
Before Mike could answer, his phonesignaled an incoming text. Whatever he read on the screen made his face turn tostone. "Excuse me, Doc. We'll have to discuss the rest of this at some othertime. Cari, we have to go."
"Mike - ."
"Now,Cari." Without waiting for a response, he stood, pulled me to my feet. "We'llbe in touch."
I held my tongue down the hall, past thereceptionist, until we were in the parking lot. "What's the rush, Mike?"
He opened my door, booted me up into thepassenger seat. "Selene, Georgia just became a big blip on the government'sradar."
"Mr. and Mrs. Gravier." The genteel looking older man, whitedoctor's coat fluttering around his thin frame, extended a hand. "I'm Dr.Edwards. Thank you for coming in today.""Ms. Gravier. Mr. Sullivan." Mike shookEdwards hand. "We're divorced."
Edwards blinked, the handshake slowing."Well. This is different."
"You can't begin to imagine how." I sankinto the chair, dropped my bag on the floor. "Cari Gravier."
"Ms. Gravier." Apparently still stunnedby Mike's bombshell, Edwards straightened his tie, eased down into his ownchair behind a massive desk. Light bounced off the shiny dome of his head,blinding me until he shifted in his seat. "I've had a chance to look over yourfile."
"I'm sure it made for entertainingbedtime reading." I'd given up after two pages. Not because I couldn'tunderstand, although there were words and phrases I'd had to feed into Google.It just made my stomach turn to read about one of the worst nights of my life,reduced to dry, medical jargon. "I looked you up. The testimonials on your siteare quite impressive."
"New Life Fertility works hard to helpboth couples and individuals in their reproductive needs." Even though I'm surethe line was propaganda, Edwards delivered it with enough emotion to beconvincing. "We understand how difficult the road to conception can be, and doour best to ease it."
"Let's cut to the chase, Doc." Mikesettled back in his chair, propped one booted ankle on his knee. "Can youhelp?"
"Don't mind him, Dr. Edwards." The look Islanted Mike's direction was sharp enough to etch glass. "His bark is worsethan his bite."
"Uh, well." Edwards shuffled some paperson his desk, opened a file. "I'll be blunt, Ms. Gravier. Your uterus has severescarring, very severe. I will tell you I've seen worse, but not by much."
I nodded, swallowed once. Even Doc Morrisand his outdated sonogram machine had been able to tell me that much. "But?"
"But, the scar tissue is limited to onearea of the uterus." Edwards pulled out a grainy photo, flipped it around,pointed at a spot. "This makes things difficult, but not impossible."
"Makes what not impossible?" Mikestraightened, his foot dropping to the floor. I reached out blindly, bore downwhen his fingers laced with mine.
Edwards blinked, looked from me to Mikeand back again. "Why, conceiving, of course."
"The doctors told me I'd never conceive.Period, point blank, end of the road." My vision blurred and I closed my eyes,fought back tears before opening them. "What are you seeing that they didn't?"
"Well, your miscarriage and the resultingscarring occurred five years ago, Ms. Gravier. Five years ago, we didn't know anumber of things we do now." Edwards shuffled his papers around, tapped themtogether. "And like I said, conception isn't impossible. Merely difficult.Although even that is something of an overstatement."
"Overstatement? Doc, we're from a smalltown in Georgia. Understatement we get, overstatement?" Mike laughed, the soundshaky, hoarse. His fingers trembled against mine. "Break this down, okay?"
"We can surgically remove enough of thescar tissue to ensure a better than average chance of a fetus reaching fullterm." Edwards opened a drawer, withdrew a small brochure. "Nothing is onehundred percent certain, as I'm sure you can imagine, but there's a very highsuccess rate with surgeries like this."
"Surgery." I sagged back into the chair,sighed. "That may be a problem."
"She's allergic to anathesia. And painkillers. And pretty much anything you could give her to knock her out." Mikedropped my hand, rubbed the nape of his neck.
"How allergic?" Edwards picked up a pen,scrawled something on the top sheet of paper.
"She could die."
"If it's too strong, or stays in mybloodstream for too long." I wet my lips, dug my nails into my palm. "We'venever tried a local."
"Because it's too dangerous." Mike'svoice started to slide into a growl. He caught himself, cleared his throat."Sorry, Doc. It's good news, but not really."
"How do we know it's too dangerous ifwe've never tried?" I shot the question at Mike, turned my attention back toEdwards. "Can you do the surgery with a local?"
"I would have to check, to be honest withyou. I'm sure there have been other patients with similar allergies, it's justa matter of finding the case materials." Edwards blinked at Mike's snort. "Isthere a problem, Mr. Sullivan?"
Before Mike could answer, his phonesignaled an incoming text. Whatever he read on the screen made his face turn tostone. "Excuse me, Doc. We'll have to discuss the rest of this at some othertime. Cari, we have to go."
"Mike - ."
"Now,Cari." Without waiting for a response, he stood, pulled me to my feet. "We'llbe in touch."
I held my tongue down the hall, past thereceptionist, until we were in the parking lot. "What's the rush, Mike?"
He opened my door, booted me up into thepassenger seat. "Selene, Georgia just became a big blip on the government'sradar."
