Lorraine Nelson's Blog, page 5

Free Book from Nese Ellyson!!!

Nese and I met online years ago when we’d both entered a Harlequin contest. Neither of us won, but we’ve kept in touch and have become good friends.

Today and tomorrow, her inspirational romantic suspense, Escape to Sanctuary, is Free. This is an exceptional story of love and bravery in the midst of being hunted by a serial killer. It’s a page turner you won’t want to miss. An excellent time to grab your copy.

Blurb:

When Dr. Evangeline Tourmaine’s step-mother turns up dead, she comes back to the states and unwittingly becomes the target of a killer. FBI Agent Colton Segar swears he will protect Evie, if it’s the last thing he does. Not easy to do when she keeps saving people in need of medical help. She’s drawing a lot of attention. As Colton tries to keep her under the radar, he finds himself drawn to her, and soon protecting her is more than just his job. It becomes a matter of heart.

Excerpt:

Prologue

“Doctor, come quick!”

Doctor Evie didn’t hesitate, but practically ran to the young woman who had summoned her. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“My husband, Rafael, he has the fever for three days. He is sick with the vomit like color of leaves, and has plenty of pain. I am afraid for him,” said the woman Evie knew as Aaliyah.

“Take me to him.” Evangeline Tourmaine, Evie to her friends, grabbed her satchel and followed the woman as she rushed through the village. They entered a hut at the edge of town, one in much better shape than most others around it, and the interior was clean, almost as clean as the clinic’s hut she worked out of in the center of the village.

The man lay on a cot in the far corner of the room. Evie slowed her steps as she approached. “Hello, Rafael. I’m Doctor Evie. I’m going to find out what is causing your pain. All right?”

“Yes,” said the man between harsh, labored breaths.

“Where does it hurt?” she asked as she pulled on a pair of disposable latex gloves.

He put his hand over his right side above his hip.

“Here.”

She gently pressed around the area. Rafael screamed in pain. Not good.

“I’m sorry. I know it hurts. I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

Rafael nodded.

She checked his vitals. Temperature 103; Blood Pressure 135/90. Evie had expected the elevated BP because of the pain the man was in. She suspected his appendix was about to rupture and if it did, the poison would go all through him and that would mean certain death in these primitive conditions. Which meant immediate surgery, but there was no way to get him to the clinic, even if there was time.

“Rafael, I need to do another exam to confirm my suspicions. Is that all right with you?”

For an answer, he nodded, still gasping for breath due to the pain.

“Rafael, it’s your appendix,” she informed him a few minutes later. “It has to come out before it bursts,” she said as she removed the soiled gloves and put on a fresh pair.

“Okay, Doctor. Just please, stop the pain,” he pleaded.

“Can you sit up?”

“I think so.” Aaliyah helped her husband to a sitting position.

“Rafael, I’m going to give you an epidural, a needle which I will inject near the spinal cord and nerve roots. It has both anesthetic and pain reliever, so it will relieve the pain and freeze that part of your body so I can perform the operation.”

“All right.”

She prepared the needle and swiped his skin with an alcohol swab. “This may be uncomfortable, but try not to move.” She injected the medication. “You can lie down again now,” she said as she prepared her instruments for the operation. Thankfully, they were already sterilized and wrapped.

“Aaliyah, I will need some hot water and a few wash cloths and towels to clean up with.”

“Right away, Doctor.”

She had a thermal blanket in her bag. It was waterproof and she took it out to slide it under Rafael to protect the bed. Not an easy task, but with Aaliyah’s help, they got it in place.

“I can’t feel my legs,” Rafael complained.

“No worries. That means the anesthesia is working. You will sleep soon.”

He nodded off almost immediately and Evie began the task of removing the appendix without it rupturing. In this heat and in less than sterile conditions, Evie prayed for guidance and a successful operation.

Three and a half hours later, the operation a success and the patient bandaged, Evie was finished except for the clean up. She’d had to stop once to tie a bandanna around her forehead as the heat of midday intruded. She removed it now. It was soaked, but it had served its purpose.

“You go home, Doctor Evie. I clean up,” said Aaliyah.

“Are you sure?” Aaliyah sometimes volunteered at the clinic, so she knew to keep her home as sterile as it could be, given a dirt floor.

“Yes, you saved my Rafael. You go home now. Rest.”

“All right, but keep a close watch for signs of infection. His dressing needs to remain dry. Here are a couple of extras, but don’t change it unless you feel there’s a need.” Evie then counted out enough pain medication to do Rafael for a few days. “These are for the pain. One every four hours as needed. If you need me, holler or go fetch someone from the clinic.”

“I will.”

“Thank you, Aaliyah. I am tired.” Tired? She was exhausted. Evie wiped off her instruments and put them back in her bag ready to sterilize them when she got back to the clinic.

She hugged the other woman and left, walking back through the village a lot slower than when she’d gone with Aaliyah. She heard an infant crying and headed in that direction to find the child quieted now that she was feeding. Evie nodded and smiled at the mother, then resumed her trek to the clinic. She smiled as she came across some children playing tag. If only she had their energy.

She pushed back the curtain and entered the clinic, proud of what she’d accomplished here in this village. It was nothing more than a straw and clay hut like the natives lived in, only bigger, with white curtains dividing the inside area into cubicles of a sort. People came from miles around to see the lady doctor.

“Doctor Evie, you need to call home right away,” said her nurse assistant for the day. “The message is on your desk.”

Home…thousands of miles away…just what she didn’t need at the end of a long, stress-filled day. What did her stepmother want now? Ever since her father died, the woman seemed to think Evie had to cater to her. It wasn’t enough that she’d arranged a quarterly income from the estate for the woman, she constantly had her hand out for extras. And the pleading had gotten worse since she’d remarried. Apparently, her new husband couldn’t afford to keep her in style.

In no particular hurry to talk to the woman, Evie checked on a couple of her patients and grabbed a coffee and a snack from the kitchen area before going to the office. She sat behind the desk and heaved a tired sigh as she picked up the message slip.

It wasn’t from her stepmother.

A lawyer’s office she’d never heard of had called to say there’d been a death in the family. She was to call for details.

The news took her by surprise. They had to be referring to her stepmother. She was the only ‘family’ Evie had left. Evie felt a brief pang of guilt for her less than complimentary thoughts about her stepmother, but there was no love lost between them. They’d barely tolerated each other.

Might as well get it over with. She picked up the phone and dialed the number written on the paper. She’d have to go home for the funeral and settle the estate.

What on earth could she do with the Fairlawn Estate? Yes, she’d lived there growing up, but it was an historic mansion full of antiquities and never had felt like home, not that she’d had anything to compare it to at the time.

She was put through to an answering machine. It let her know that no one was in the office and to leave a number.

“This is Dr. Evangeline Tourmaine. Your office called to inform me of a death in the family. I will be enroute to America as soon as I can arrange a replacement and should be in Ohio by weeks end. I’ll be in touch when I arrive as I will not be available for you to contact me.” She hung up not really knowing if she should have given them any more information.

***

Due to the circumstances, she was able to find a replacement fairly quickly, but still, it was almost three days later when she’d boarded the plane. Eighteen hours in the air and two plane changes later, she was home. Or close to it. She hadn’t slept a wink on the plane due to an elderly gentleman snoring beside her, so her first stop was the airport hotel. She’d get a good night’s sleep and rent a vehicle in the morning to drive the rest of the way.

It didn’t happen as planned. Evie woke through the night, soaked with sweat from a raging fever. When she got up to get her thermometer and a couple of pain meds for the headache forming, she ended up running to the bathroom and hugging the toilet bowl for the next half hour. When she was able, she grabbed a cold washcloth and the small garbage can and went back to bed.

Morning didn’t bring with it any miracles. She was back to hugging the bowl again. As a doctor, she realized that she’d been hit with a flu virus. She knew she had to replace the fluids she’d upchucked, but the room had nothing except water, which had promptly set off the retching again.

The front desk called at one point to remind her of check out time. Evie took the opportunity to inform them she was sick and had to stay a few more days and requested juice, tea, and toast be sent up. Although she loved her coffee in the morning, just the thought of it made her stomach churn.

Three days later, her fever broke and the retching stopped. On the fourth morning, she was able to stand without the room spinning. She ordered a light breakfast and grabbed a much-needed shower.

Her stepmother had been buried by then and, as there was now no rush to get home, she allowed herself two more days of rest. By then, she felt recovered enough to continue her journey, so she rented a car, checked out of the hotel, and headed out. She’d only gotten about thirty miles down the highway when her weakened condition had her seeing double and she checked into the next motel she saw.

The next few days were spent alternately resting and building up her stamina. Full meals helped. It was a country motel and the meals were hearty and nourishing. Still weak from the ordeal and resigned to the task ahead of her, she drove home.

The Fairlawn Estate was just as she’d left it years ago. The grounds were professionally groomed and the stone façade gleamed from a recent storm, or at least, that was her guess. She sat in the car taking in her surroundings and knew she wouldn’t be staying in that big, empty mausoleum of a house, so she turned around and headed back to town. She’d drop in on the lawyer and then decide where to go and what to do.

An hour later, dazed and confused, Evie returned to Fairlawn. The lawyer was wrong. She didn’t know where he’d gotten the phony will, but Sheriff Caine was not the new owner of Fairlawn. The estate was hers and had been for years. Her grandfather had entrusted the estate to her on his death and no conman sheriff or his thieving lawyer was going to yank it out from under her. Even if she didn’t want to live in it, it was still her family’s property and she was the only one left. It was up to her to decide what to do with the estate.

She walked around the grounds, through the formal gardens, bypassed the gazebo, and ended up at the boathouse. It had always been a special spot for her and she’d spent a lot of time there as a child. If she wasn’t reading or writing a story, she was swimming in the lake.

Evie went inside and opened the big door to the bright, sunshiny day, a distinct contrast to her current mood, and sat on the sill looking out over the water. The gentle ebb and flow of the lake in front of her calmed her enough to realize that she needed to call her lawyer.

She dug out the prepaid disposable she’d purchased at the airport and dialed the number from memory. “Jacob Prescott, please. Evangeline Tourmaine calling.”

“One moment, please.”

Soft hold music sounded in her ear and she became conscious of footsteps behind her. Someone had entered the boathouse.

Evie turned toward the sound and a man in police uniform stood beside a giant of a man who had a gun pointed at her.

“Well, now, who have we here? Looks like a trespasser to me. Wouldn’t you say so, Miguel?” said the officer.

“Sure does, Sheriff. Maybe I should do something about her.”

“Yes, I think you should.”

Evie didn’t wait to hear any more. Fear shot her adrenalin sky high and she quickly ducked behind the skiff, pulled down the wench, sent the gear falling from the rafters, and took off running along the lake.

The gunman got off a wild shot while everything was falling on him. She felt the burn as the bullet entered her shoulder, but there was no time to waste.

What the heck was going on?

Evie made it back to her rental car and took off, spinning a volley of gravel stones at the two men now running behind her. She knew they could easily track the car, so she pulled into a seldom-used side road at the edge of town and parked. She walked back through the woods, leaving the car abandoned at the side of the road. All she carried was her backpack, which held her doctor’s bag, toiletries, wallet, and a change of clothes. She’d have to get to a phone and call her lawyer as she’d lost her disposable cell when she ran. She also had to call the rental company and tell them where to pick up their car.

But right now, she needed to stay alive and figure things out.

The walk through the woods was peaceful and quiet but it was getting darker by the minute. Once she’d gone about as far as her tired body would allow, she happened upon a shed in a clearing. She wondered who had built it and why it was there in the middle of nowhere. Then she spotted the charred remains of someone’s house long since abandoned.

She turned toward the shed and slowly pulled the door open, hoping nothing hid inside waiting to attack. Nothing scurried or slithered about, so she batted a few cobwebs away and looked inside the darkened interior. She could barely see an old car seat, which sat along the opposite wall. It would have to do. She closed the door and fumbled her way to the bench seat in the dark. She needed to rest for a moment. If she could just catch her breath.

Who was after her? Her mind raced at all the possibilities. This wasn’t how her return stateside was supposed to happen. She was so exhausted. She needed to find some place safe, but where? An officer had been with the man shooting at her. An officer the man referred to as sheriff. The same one trying to cheat her out of her home? How many other men were on his payroll? Darn it all! If she couldn’t trust the police, then who?

Evangeline slumped to a prone position. She was so tired and confused…and angry that someone would try to kill her. That had to be Sheriff Caine with that man at the boathouse. He’d acted as if he owned the place.

The shock started to wear off and the searing pain from the gunshot wound throbbed. She couldn’t stop herself from sobbing due to the fear and pain. She must have slept. When next she awoke, it was morning. The dull gray of a rainy dawn filtered through the one grimy window. Rain thundered on the tin roof, but the shed had kept her dry.

She stood, her body stiff and sore from sleeping in such a cramped space, but she had to keep moving. She’d soon have to tend to the gunshot wound before it got infected. She had already lost a lot of blood and was fast losing what little strength she’d regained since her bout with the flu. And she was hungry. She’d had nothing to eat since breakfast at the motel the day before.

Plodding along on tired feet in wet shoes was not her idea of a good time. Her hood was up but rivulets of water ran down inside the front. She could barely see two feet in front of her – it rained that hard at times. She had to find a place, a washroom or something, where she could remove the bullet and bandage the wound. Tap water had to be better than lake water for cleansing the injury.

She’d made it to town but didn’t dare walk down the street or stop at a restaurant. Evangeline stayed in the shadows as much as possible. With the heavy rain, not too many people were out and about, but she doubted that her attackers had quit looking for her. They were out there waiting to pounce. Of that, she was certain.

She had to find somewhere safe to stay…to hide out…to rest, until she could figure out what the sheriff and his lawyers were up to.

Please, God, help me.

When she glanced up to get her bearings, the word Sanctuary stood out, loud and clear, the lighted sign beckoning from the side of a building just ahead.

Thank you, Lord.

End of teaser excerpt. Ready for more?

Available at the Amazon nearest you. Just click the link below. Happy reading! http://amzn.to/1md3xtO

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Denise Ellyson, aka Nese, lives in a small town in rural Ohio with her own Prince Charming, two boys, and a cat they rescued. She’s an avid fan of romance, particularly when it has a suspense element. She’s always brimming with ideas and loves getting her thoughts down on paper. The day Denise released her first novel, Escape to Sanctuary, an inspirational romantic suspense, was one of the most exciting days of her life.

Denise is a bit of a Mrs. Fix It and enjoys doing repairs and renovations on her family home. She enjoys art and her paintings have been in several art shows. She feels she has the greatest job of all, working for her Christian ministry as an artist and designer.

To connect with Denise, check out her website: Neseellyson.com

You can also find her in the following places:

Twitter – @NeseDenise

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/nese.ellyson

Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/author/Nese_Ellyson

Amazon – http://amzn.to/1jtPuhW

 

99 Cent Sale!

Hi! I can’t believe February is almost gone. I’ve been hoping for any early spring. Maybe, just maybe, we’ll get one. :) (Shhh, don’t tell anybody, but we don’t have any snow.) Of course, that could change overnight, and often does, but January and February are usually our worst months of winter. We’ve only had four storms bad enough to need the driveway plowed, so that’s good.

Starting today thru Sunday one of my favorite stories, Finding Baby J, goes on sale for only 99 cents. Why? Because I can.  And if the weather is cold where you are, this story is guaranteed to warm your hearts. It does mine every time I read it.

Blurb:

One lonely woman, a doctor afraid of commitment… Will finding Baby J help them find each other?

Shana Davis knows what it’s like to be unloved and unwanted. Her childhood involved being shuffled from one foster home to the next. One night, as her shift at Mercy hospital comes to an end, she hears a forlorn, mewling sound and finds a newborn baby boy left in a dumpster. The abandoned baby appeals to her soft heart and her immediate attachment to the child—dubbed Baby J—leads to her spending a lot of time in the Maternity Ward in the company of the handsome Dr. Daniels.

Dr. Kagan Daniels is heart-sore and commitment-shy due to his failed marriage and past experiences with selfish, cold-hearted women. But he sees a gentle, caring soul in Shana and is drawn to her. Despite his reservations, he realizes he wants to get to know her better and finds excuses to spend time in her company.

Having always wanted to be a daddy, Kagan adopts Baby J. As he and Shana grow closer, Shana feels she’s found her own private heaven. She has Baby J and the man of her dreams. What more could a woman want?

But a conniving woman, a manipulative mother, and a man from Shana’s past threaten to come between them. Will the lies spewed by others separate them forever? Or can their love win out over all?

Excerpt:

      Chapter One

Shana pushed the trash cart through the back door of the cafeteria kitchen, her final chore as she finished her shift. In the normally quiet alley behind the hospital, she heard a pathetic mewling. The sound seemed to be coming from somewhere near the Dumpster. “Here, kitty, kitty!” she called softly in response, continuing to slowly push the cart closer so as not to scare the stray.

Okay, how do I stretch my budget to include adding another feline to my menagerie of injured and abandoned animals? But Shana knew she couldn’t pass up any opportunity to help the less fortunate. And since she herself was at the bottom of the economic food chain, animals were the chosen beneficiaries.

Why do I want to be a physical therapist? I might as well be a vet. She smiled at the humorous thought. As she came to a stop beside the Dumpster, the mewling continued.

“Poor baby, got yourself stuck in the Dumpster and can’t get out, can you?” Shana stood on tiptoes to peer over the lip of the huge can, and in the fading light of early evening, what she found rendered her motionless. She clutched her chest with a shock so deep it took her breath away. There, lying in the filth, was a precious baby boy.

“Dear God! Who would do such a thing?”

She hurriedly scaled the side of the Dumpster and reached in to lift the naked infant into her arms. The night wasn’t overly cold, but he needed to get warm fast. There was no telling how long the baby had been lying there. She cuddled him close to share her body heat and climbed back down to the ground, scanning the surrounding area to see if the mother was skulking nearby. Not wanting to waste any more time, she turned to go back inside, needing to get him fed and checked out. He was rooting around her breast, instinctively seeking nourishment.

“I’ve got nothing but love for you, sweetheart, but I bet one of the nurses in maternity will have just what you need.” She left the trash cart where it was—no one in their right mind would steal it—and rushed in through the kitchen door, straight to the towel cupboard.

“Shana! Is that one of your strays?” The cook waved a large, wooden spoon at her as Shana raced across the kitchen. She didn’t pause in her headlong dash to answer, “Yes, but—”

“Well, get it out of my kitchen!”

Shana swiped a large towel from the shelf and said, “Yes, ma’am.”

Wrapping her bundle as best she could on the move, she ran across the lobby and up the stairs to the second floor where she’d seen Dr. Kagan Daniels only moments before. The baby’s body was icy cold and the little mite seemed to be having trouble breathing, not making any sound at all. Dr. Daniels would know what to do.

She’d gathered quite an entourage by the time she reached labor and delivery, where the neonatal unit was located. Cook, as she found out later, had notified security of Shana’s “germ-infested stray,” and they were waiting for her at the top of the staircase.

“Miss Davis, pass over your stray. You know we don’t allow animals in the hospital,” said a big, burly guard as he reached for the baby.

“Dr. Daniels! I need Dr. Daniels,” she hollered, clutching the infant to her chest, panicked at being surrounded by so many people.

Dr. Daniels broke through the crowd. “What’s going on here?”

Shana spoke fast and loud to be heard above the din. “I found a baby crying in the Dumpster outside the kitchen. He’s cold and barely breathing.”

“Bring him in here.” He motioned toward the nearest delivery room. Shana wasn’t going to let the infant out of her sight until she was sure he was all right. She already felt attached to the little guy somehow.

“It’s a boy,” she said as she laid her precious bundle down in a bassinet. The doctor checked vitals and grabbed a newborn bulbous syringe to suction the mouth and nose. The baby cried out, and his color started to return to normal.

“Nurse, grab a bottle of formula and fit it with a newborn-sized nipple. We have to get some nourishment into this child.”

“Is he going to be okay?” Shana asked as the minutes ticked by and no one spoke to her.

“Yes, I’d say he’s only an hour or two old at most. He’ll be fine once he’s fed.” Dr. Daniels fitted a diaper over the littlest bum she’d ever seen and swaddled him in a blanket.

The nurse arrived with the bottle of formula, started to hand it to the doctor, then looked questioningly toward Shana’s outstretched hand.

“May I feed him?” Shana asked.

The nurse and Kagan exchanged a glance and nodded in agreement. Shana gently lifted the baby and held him close while she placed the nipple in his mouth. He latched on greedily and began sucking right away. Shana smiled down into his beautiful face as she gravitated toward a rocking chair, her heart overwhelmed by the emotions this tiny human being brought out in her.

***

Kagan ordered blood work and routine tests for the baby. Once the nurse had gone, he stood and silently observed the girl as she fed him. A biological mother wouldn’t be any more attentive or careful than this girl was. Certainly not his own mother, who’d promptly handed him off to a nanny right after his birth, then traveled to Paris to recover…where she’d stayed for three years.

The woman, dressed in a drab cafeteria uniform, her hair tucked under an ugly blue food-services cap, concentrated on the infant to the exclusion of all else. Kagan found he didn’t much like her ignoring him for the child. There was something unique and appealing about her. At first he’d felt suspicion toward the lovely woman. Was she the child’s mother? But no, the child’s olive skin tone and black hair put that theory to rest.

She was quite pretty in a simple way, slim and blonde. Her eyebrows and lashes were a pale blond, highlighting the flashing violet eyes he’d caught a glimpse of earlier. She filled out the uniform in all the right places, and her face, while serenely focused on the child, reminded him of a painting of the Madonna and child done by Raphael. Still, she looked vaguely familiar, and not because he bought his morning coffee from her.

“Where do I know you from?” he asked.

“Well, it could be the cafeteria, but more likely the baby-massage classes I started after taking my Physio courses last semester. I helped out the nurse who normally runs them as part of my internship.”

“Yes, I remember now. Miss Davis, right?”

“Yes, but I prefer Shana.”

“You demonstrated how to use the massage for babies with intestinal issues. It was very informative. We used the technique on a preemie that had undergone stomach surgery. It helped relieve gas without damaging the work the doctors had done.” Admiration for this girl with the miracle hands filled him.

***

She nodded. “You had a patient whose mom was learning how to do the infant massage to relieve gas. You’d performed a tummy operation on her little girl, so we showed her other places on the child’s body she could massage to help with gas relief.”

“Mrs. Hodges and little Tina. The therapy was great. It did wonders for the baby and the mother,” he added with a smile that made his eyes twinkle.

“Thanks.” Shana could feel herself blush. Compliments were such a foreign occurrence in her life, she stored each and every one so she could treasure it later. To make matters worse, he was unbelievably handsome, one of the sexiest-looking men she’d ever come across in her life and a nice guy to boot. When does that ever happen? She knew he was only talking to her to kill time until he could examine the baby more thoroughly, but to have his full attention felt exciting, making her insides warm in reaction to his soft-voiced comments.

Of course, she’d heard the talk going around the hospital. Several of the female staff would love to attract his attention, but he was always professional—to the eternal frustration of the ladies.

“Detectives Grayson and Farrier. We understand a girl brought an abandoned baby to this department. We need to talk to the attending physician and the girl who found the child,” announced a gruff voice from out in the hall.

“Of course. Right this way,” said a female voice followed by hasty footsteps in the corridor.

Shana swiveled the rocking chair on its base to face the door as the head nurse escorted two police officers into the room.

“Dr. Daniels, these officers are here to speak to you about the baby Miss Davis found.”

“Thank you, nurse,” Dr. Daniels said, excusing her from the exam room with a nod.   “I’m Dr. Kagan Daniels. How can I help you?”

“I’m Detective Grayson, and this is Detective Farrier. We’ll be investigating the abandoned baby case. Can you fill us in on the child and its condition?”

“The baby is a full-term, male infant of uncertain descent, born approximately two hours ago. I detected a slight heart arrhythmia, so I’ll need to keep him under observation. He is slightly underweight, dehydrated, and malnourished. Miss Davis is feeding him a bottle of formula as we speak. He seems content and otherwise healthy, but I’ll know more after we run a few tests.”

The detective, busy writing in a notebook, paused to ask another question. “Do you think the child’s medical condition is severe enough to cause a parent to abandon the child?”

“The parent would have no way of knowing the health of the baby at birth. And he wasn’t born here, that I can assure you.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Our last birth was just after midnight last night, a girl. This child was still sporting evidence of recent delivery and naked when Miss Davis found him.”

“Thank you, doctor. If we have any further questions, we’ll be in touch.”

“I’m here most days and staff has my number if it’s after hours.”

“Thank you.” Turning away from the doctor, Detective Grayson asked, “Are you Shana Davis?”

“Yes.”

“Can you tell us what happened?”

“Sure,” Shana said. “I went outside after my shift to take out the cafeteria trash for Jacob, who’s not feeling well, and I heard a mewling sound. I followed the sound to the Dumpster outside the kitchen, thinking it was a kitten stuck somewhere and couldn’t get free. Instead, I found this precious baby boy lying there, stark naked and whining pitifully. I gathered him up and held him close, rubbing his arms and legs and trying to get him warmed up some, but he’d stopped making any noise at all and seemed to be barely breathing. So I ran back inside for help.”

“What time did you find him?”

“Six fifteen.” She held the baby up to her shoulder, rubbing circles on his little back to help bring up any gas. Once he burped, she resumed feeding him.

“Why did you come all the way up here when the emergency unit is fully equipped to deal with this kind of thing?”

Shana felt her face warm and avoided looking at the doctor as she answered. “I’d just been up here to pick up dinner trays, and I’d seen Dr. Daniels. He’s the head of neonatal, you know?”

“No, I didn’t know. Thank you for that information.” He jotted the information in his notebook. “Continue.”

“Well, who better to check the baby? I never even thought of going to emerg, just stopped in the kitchen long enough to grab a towel to cover the babe and rushed straight here.” She held the baby up to her shoulder again. He’d finished his bottle, and she needed to get another burp out of him before settling him in the bassinet the nurse had ready.

“Would you show us where you found the baby?”

A loud burp had everyone smiling pleasantly at the little guy.

“Sure.” She rose with the baby in her arms and walked over to the bassinet in the corner. Ever so gently, like a piece of fine china, she laid him down to sleep. “Sleep well, precious baby. You’re in good hands now.”

Shana straightened and realized the doctor had silently moved behind her. He’d heard her whispered words. Embarrassed, she strode to the door and said, “Good-bye, Dr. Daniels.” To the officers, she said, “Follow me.”

But before she could make her escape, the doctor called her name. “Miss Davis.”

She spun around, her heart hammering. Had she done something wrong? “Yes, Doctor?”

“You have my permission to visit the baby whenever you can.”

She could’ve hugged him she felt so happy. “Thank you, Doctor. I’ll do that.”

“Miss Davis, would you mind going with Detective Farrier and showing him where you found the child? I’ll join you downstairs shortly. I just have a couple more questions for the doctor.”

“Sure, but I have to leave for home soon or I’ll miss my bus.”

“Then let’s get going, Miss Davis. This won’t take long,” said Detective Farrier as he ushered her from the room.

***

Detective Grayson closed the door and turned toward him.

“No,” said Kagan.

“I don’t believe I’ve asked the question yet. What, exactly are you saying no to?”

“At first, I wondered if the child was hers, but a quick check while she was feeding the baby confirmed that her shift started at eight o’clock this morning. There’s no way.”

“Could she be helping a friend?”

“Maybe, but I doubt it. Apparently she’s known for finding strays.”

“Well, I’d say this time she found more than she bargained for.”

“So it would seem. Lucky for the little guy that she cared enough to search.”

“Very lucky. Thank you, Doctor. I’ll be in touch.”

Kagan watched the detective leave, then crossed to the bassinet. “You are one very lucky boy. Who tossed you away? And why? If it’s a medical condition they thought you inherited, I’ll find out. Rest assured, little one. As Shana said, you are in good hands.”

He stood there a few minutes longer, watching the baby sleep. His breathing seemed fine, but he’d have the staff keep a close eye on him, just in case. Kagan thought of the pretty cafeteria worker who’d found him. Was she really as honest and caring as she seemed? Time would tell.

***

The police had finished with her for the moment, so Shana ventured back to the maternity ward. Dr. Daniels sat at the nurses’ station, filling out a chart, but she interrupted to ask the one question that had been worrying her.

“Dr. Daniels, what you said to the police about the baby’s heart, is he going to be okay?”

He looked up from his notes to where she stood, wringing her hands nervously. He smiled. “The child is fine, and we’ll keep a close watch on him.”

“I need to catch my bus, but if it’s okay, I’d like to see Baby J one more time.”

“Baby J? Why do you think he’s a J?” Kagan asked.

“I figured they’d tag him with John Doe, but it seems too grown up for an infant, so I shortened it to J.”

“You’re taking this a little personally, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, well, it’s one of my bad habits. I can’t let anything or anyone defenseless go unprotected.” She smiled in embarrassment, feeling overexposed. She’d shared a weakness with someone who wouldn’t know how much she hated showing weakness to anyone.

Shuffled as she was between different foster homes during her childhood made her guard every part of herself, except with her adoptive, animal family. Baby J, however, made her feel courageous, ready to do battle on his behalf. The tiny child had no one to protect him or fight for him, and she felt the desire to do both welling up inside her.

Dr. Daniels nodded his assent and went back to his chart. Shana let herself into the nursery, smiled at the nurse on duty, and found the bassinet where Baby J was sleeping. She felt her heart lodge in her throat as she watched over the little bundle wrapped snug in a blanket sleeping peacefully. She leaned over and touched her fingers to her lips with a kiss, then placed it on the baby’s soft cheek. “I’ll be back to see you tomorrow, Baby J. Sleep, precious boy.”

***

He’d been right; she was quite beautiful in an earthy kind of way. Her blonde hair glimmered with golden streaks under the glare of the fluorescent lighting. Kagan watched from the doorway as the woman treated the baby in such a loving manner. He felt his chest tighten in response. She was one of those rare people who were real nurturers, unlike his own mother or even his ex-wife.

Shana left the nursery, and he went back to his desk. Never again would he be the victim of some selfish woman’s plotting for a wealthy husband or his mother’s evil matchmaking. He’d be better off staying single forever than to experience the pain of knowing his wife aborted his child to get even for not giving her something she wanted.

He shook his head in disgust. Enough self-pity. Time to get back to work. He had a cesarean section scheduled later in the evening and needed to stop mooning over the kind of woman he thought he should have had in his life. The face of the little cafeteria worker popped into his head and he admitted not all woman were manipulative.

The elevator door swooshed open, and a new arrival caused his thoughts to focus on the medical needs of the maternity ward during a full moon.

***

She was late getting back to her apartment because she’d missed her usual bus, and Shana’s hungry pets greeted her when she opened the door.

“Okay, guys. I’m on it. Dinner will be ready in a minute.” Both cats wrapped themselves around her legs, making it difficult to walk. As she dropped her purse and book bag on the couch on her way to the kitchen, she saw her cats had started shredding the side of the sofa again.

“You guys need to act like you’re house-trained.” The scolding fell on deaf ears as the cats continued to trail her all the way to the kitchen. They promptly jumped up on the counter as if to rush her in serving their food. She had to hide the bag of cat food in the cupboard above the sink to keep them out of it after having come home to a mess all over her kitchen floor one day. They’d been used to rummaging for food before she took them in.

She’d found Shalimar, an overweight tabby, in the alley behind the bus stop. She’d gotten her paw caught in a mousetrap while foraging for food. Once she freed the cat’s paw, Shay had followed her home. A car had hit Rex, a large orange tom. She’d taken him to the vet, brought him home to nurse him back to health, and he’d never left.

After feeding the cats and making a sandwich for herself, Shana went into the living room to grab her books. Tomorrow she had a test to take at school, followed by a double shift at the cafeteria doing patient-tray delivery and running the cash register. She hoped to have a chance to visit Baby J and maybe see Dr. Daniels again.

Even though he was way out of her league, she still couldn’t seem to get thoughts of him out of her head, especially the gentle way he handled Baby J. Shana’s greatest wish was to be a wife and mother, to have her own family, to be loved. That she would never have those things was also her greatest fear.

After she finished studying, she got ready for bed and crawled between the sheets, sleep claiming her almost immediately.

She dreamed of Dr. Daniels. Could clearly see his handsome, tanned features, serious amber eyes and wavy brown hair with its blond highlights. His shoulders were broad, and his hands so gentle.

They were beautiful hands, resembling those of a concert pianist. They slowly undressed her, and she felt herself blush, her inexperience showing even in a dream. After waking several times during the night, embarrassed by her vivid imaginings, she almost hoped she didn’t run into the alluring doctor at the hospital later that day.

***

Kagan finished the paperwork on the C-section and went to look in on Baby J. After hearing Shana give him a name, it was hard to go back to just calling him the baby. What kind of world was it where a mother would do such a thing? She’d left a tiny human being defenseless and alone. He wanted to believe her intention was to leave the baby on hospital property to take advantage of the new law. It stated parents of any baby less than a month old left on hospital property would be free from prosecution for endangerment or abandonment. He shook his head, wondering what that said about humanity when they needed a law that helped parents to not abuse, neglect, or kill their young?

When he entered the nursery, he saw five bassinets with their bundles all swaddled in hospital receiving blankets. The third one over was Baby J, and he looked about ready to wake for another feeding. He stared at the tiny bow mouth as it yawned and trembled in the beginnings of a cry for food. He’s so sweet and innocent. Kagan felt a strong pull toward the child. This precious little boy will need a parent. Just maybe…?

No, what was he thinking? As a doctor, he worked all hours of the day and night. He couldn’t take care of an infant. He needed to shake off his dreams of becoming a father…part of a loving family. Still, he looked again at the tiny baby now cradled in a nurse’s arms taking his bottle, and he felt the old longing.

With regret, he turned his back on the child and headed for the elevator to the parking garage. Tomorrow he’d take a closer look at J and order an MRI and chest X-rays. His blood work should be back by then as well.

Once home, Kagan heated a frozen pizza and placed a mixed country CD on the stereo, turning the music down low. He poured a glass of Chardonnay, its amber color reminding him of Shana’s glorious mane of hair, and realized how much he wanted to see her again. He thought of how helpful she’d been at the baby massage seminar and reflected on her appearance in that awful uniform tonight. He would never have recognized her, except for the hair, yet he’d always been attracted to blondes.

He’d stop by the cafeteria tomorrow and give her an update on Baby J. He smiled, thinking about the pleasure he felt when talking with her, and realized he wanted to know more about her. Why did she work in the cafeteria while taking classes in physical therapy plus doing her internship? Where did she find the time?

She must not be in a serious relationship. She wouldn’t have time for it. And the thought pleased him way too much. There could be a live-in boyfriend, but that thought didn’t please him at all. He’d have to see her, talk to her, and find out. It had been a long time since a female had captured his interest. Shana seemed so different from the women he knew. He looked forward to seeing her again.

***

A loud banging on her apartment door woke Shana faster than an alarm going off. She shot out of bed with her pulse racing. She’d learned early on to pay attention to sounds and be ready for anything. It was a survival mechanism from being in the system. She stumbled to the door, picking up her Louieville Slugger from the umbrella stand on her way. Looking through the peephole, she couldn’t see anything.

“Who’s there?” Shana heard a faint whisper that sounded like Maria down the hall. She opened the door as far as the safety chain would allow, and there was Maria with baby Louie beside her on the floor. She looked a mess! Her face was battered and bleeding, a sharp contrast to the beautiful baby sleeping peacefully next to her in his car seat. Shana closed the door to remove the chain, and quickly opened it again to kneel beside her friend.

“Maria, what happened?”

“Joe came home drunk, and the baby was crying,” the woman whispered in explanation, her voice quivering. “When he passed out, I got out of there.”

“Don’t talk, just come in and let me take a look. Okay?” Shana gently helped Maria to her feet, slung the diaper bag over her arm, grabbed the infant carrier, and supported her friend as they walked the short distance to her beat-up but sturdy secondhand sofa.

“Here, I’ll put Louie on the couch so I can take a look at you.” Shana placed the baby next to Maria and put some pillows on either side of the car seat so it wouldn’t roll. Satisfied Louie was safe, she turned to look closely at her neighbor.

“I’ve got a first-aid kit in the bathroom. I’ll get it and be right back.” She pulled the kit out of the bathroom cupboard and gripped the sink, taking a deep breath. Once she’d obtained a measure of calm, she walked back to her tiny living room and started cleaning the woman’s small cuts. She activated the chemical ice pack, and Shalimar chose that moment to explore the intruders. Hopping onto the back of the couch, the cat stared in haughty disdain at the new occupants.

“Ignore Shay. She’s a little uppity,” Shana said as a way to break the tension. She didn’t want to ask any questions her friend wasn’t ready to answer.

“I’m leaving him this time, Shana. He was ready to harm my baby, and I won’t allow that. I knew in that moment it was too late to salvage our relationship.” With those words, Maria silently allowed the tears to roll down her face.

“Look, I’ll make up a bed on the couch for you and one on the chair for Louie. You can stay here until you figure out what you’re going to do, but I think you need to be checked by a doctor.”

“I don’t want a doctor. I’m always fine after a good night’s sleep. Thanks for letting us stay. I appreciate it.”

“What are friends for? Do you want anything for the pain?”

“No, thank you.”

Shana knew Maria’s pride was asserting itself, making her try to act strong, but inside she must be suffering. Joe had promised to stop drinking, but obviously, that hadn’t happened. Shana felt bad for the couple. She’d had a foster family like them. When Joe was sober, he was a great guy, but when he drank, he was as different as Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. “You can stay here for as long as you need to. We’ll work something out.”

“Thank you, my friend.”

Shana noticed a large lump near Maria’s left temple. It wasn’t as noticeable as the other injuries, but she knew it could prove to be the most dangerous. “Maria, this bump on your head has me concerned.”

“That’s the only bump not inflicted by Joe. I got it while trying to get out of the apartment. In my haste, I tripped on the baby’s rug and fell onto a corner of the crib.”

“You may have a concussion. I’m not a medical professional, but it should be checked.”

“I can’t go to a doctor now.”

“Why not?” Shana asked, wondering how she could convince her.

“Look at me! I’m a mess! And who would watch Louie?”

“You’re a woman who’s been battered. They don’t expect you to look pretty after an episode like that. I can watch Louie while you’re being examined.”

Maria opened her mouth to say something when she started to gag.

Shana ran to her tiny kitchen and fetched the trash can.

“Maria, you have to go to the hospital!” Shana called a cab and checked Maria again, then put an ice pack on her swollen eye and lip. She grabbed the diaper bag and said, “Keep talking to me so I know you haven’t fallen asleep. I’ve heard it’s not good to go to sleep with a concussion.”

The taxi buzzed her apartment when it was waiting downstairs, and Shana picked up Louie. Bless his little soul; the baby was still sleeping soundly in his car seat. She carried him with one hand, the diaper bag slung over her shoulder so she could help Maria to the elevator and down to the waiting taxi. Maria wasn’t arguing anymore, which showed just how bad off she really was. Normally, Maria was too proud to let anyone see she needed help.

It was almost 6:00 a.m. when the taxi pulled up to the emergency entrance. The nurse on duty handed them several forms to fill out and showed them to an examination room. The doctor talked soothingly to Maria as he checked her cuts and bruises, after which an orderly collected her for X-rays and an MRI. Louie was waking up, so Shana took him into the bathroom, changed him, and warmed his bottle. As she walked back to the waiting room, she bumped into none other than Dr. Daniels.

“Excuse me.”

“Pardon me,” he said, grasping her arms to steady her and the car seat. She’d already been a little off balance carrying both the seat and the diaper bag. She saw Kagan look down at the baby with a perplexed look on his face.

“Have you started moonlighting as a stork? Don’t tell me you found this one in the hospital garage, because it’s been less than twenty-four hours since I saw you bring in Baby J.”

His teasing was the exact balm needed to calm her worried soul. As she looked into his concerned eyes, she couldn’t help wishing he could provide a steadying hand forever.

Just click this link and it’ll take you to the Amazon nearest you. myBook.to/FBJ

Warning: Sexual content

Kindle Scout Campaign and Cover Reveal

Hello, my friends!

I’m so excited! My Kindle Scout submission has been approved for launch!

What does this mean to you? I thought you’d never ask. :)

“Kindle Scout is reader-powered publishing for new, never-before-published books. It’s a place where readers help decide if a book gets published. Selected books will be published by Kindle Press and receive 5-year renewable terms, a $1,500 advance, 50% eBook royalty rate, easy rights reversions and featured Amazon marketing.”

The campaign for my novel entitled Daydreams and Night Scenes launches today, February 24, 2016, @ 12:00 AM EST and runs for 30 days. All I need you to do is go there and nominate my book. That’s it! Just a few moments of your time. The more people who want to see my book published, the better my chances. And if I win a publishing contract with Amazon’s Kindle Scout program, you get the book free just for nominating it. That makes it a win, win for each of us. So just click the following link to go there and read the first chapter. https://kindlescout.amazon.com/p/XUL7D2OPHOX9

Isn’t this just one of the best covers? It portrays the hero and heroine beautifully and I love it! Thank you, Michelle, for setting it up and making it look so professional.

Blurb:

Fantasy or Fateful Alliance?

Miranda Stuart is lushly built, hauntingly beautiful, career-oriented, and extremely intelligent, but thanks to a teenage crush on Alexander Denning, a man who was way out of her league, she acts out of character when they meet up years later at a posh resort. This time, Randi is determined to have her fantasy night in his arms. Just when the night’s magic should have begun, Alex, now a dashing billionaire playboy, enters the scene with another woman in tow. Has she set the stage for blackmail?

Thank you all so much. I truly appreciate the support as I venture into Kindle Scout Publishing territory. Here’s the link again: https://kindlescout.amazon.com/p/XUL7D2OPHOX9

Lorraine Nelson – Author

http://lorrainenelson.weebly.com

Casting Characters

The following is a post I received from someone at some time during the past few years. I’m usually pretty good at giving credit where it’s due, but in this case, all I can tell you is that this post was not written by me. It’s not my intention to plagiarize or step on anyone’s toes, but this is such a good article and I wanted to share it with you. In reality, I probably couldn’t explain it any better. :) So, if you are the original author of this post, please contact me or take credit in the comments. In the meantime, I’m going to share. :)

Casting Your Characters

Most people think that an exciting and well-developed plot is what makes a script good, but even the most intriguing plot won’t hold someone’s attention if the action is performed by flat, unoriginal characters.

Flat Characters vs. Original Characters

Flat character: Joe is 20 years old. He likes football and eats a lot of bacon.

Original Character: Tucker Wallace is the coolest nerd on Earth. This month, he’s been on the cover of Popular Science, Time, People, Cosmo, and GQ. He’s been a guest on Oprah, hosted Saturday Night Live, and has been offered a job at, literally, every pharmaceutical company in the world. One magazine deemed him the “most sought-after bachelor in the world,” while another claimed that his “discovery will change life as we know it forever.” While spending hours upon hours in a makeshift laboratory in his parents’ basement as a boy, leaning over test tubes, pushing up his glasses, and wiping the sweat from his forehead, Tucker never thought his efforts would come to this. Never did he think he would be sitting where he is right now, under the bright lights in front of another live studio audience explaining how he feels now that he discovered the Fountain of Youth. What Tucker won’t tell the person interviewing him is that he is terrified. Terrified of being in the spotlight and even more terrified about some unexpected side-effects starting to appear in his patients.”

Which movie would you rather watch? The one about Joe or the one about Tucker?

Not only are characters with hidden depths and secrets more fun to read about, they’re also more fun to write about. Though you’ll end up writing about a bunch of different people in your script, all of them will fall into one of three categories: the protagonist, the supporting characters, and the antagonist.

The Protagonist

The protagonist has the starring role in your script. In most scripts, the protagonist is on a journey to get what he or she wants more than anything else in the world. Your protagonist could be after fame, revenge, or something much more elusive, like overcoming poverty or cancer.

The Supporting Characters

Supporting characters have an important role in your protagonist’s life. Some may be around for the protagonist’s entire journey, some for only part. Supporting characters can be friends, close relatives, or love interests—you name it. These characters also have dreams of their own, and their adventures will add even more excitement to your script.

The Physical Antagonist

A physical antagonist is a living, breathing character in a script that is standing in the way of the protagonist achieving his or her goal. This does not mean that all physical antagonists are evil monsters. Some antagonists stand in the way simply through jealousy, or misunderstanding, or by having a set of goals that conflicts with the protagonist’s. If Gavin is your protagonist and he wants to take Kim to the dance, but Chet asked her first, this doesn’t mean Chet is a “bad guy.” He’s just another guy who likes the same girl. Then again, there are those antagonists that are just plain evil. It’s up to you to decide who’s going to stand in your protagonist’s way, and how he or she is going to do it.

The Abstract Antagonist

Though a lot of antagonists are living, breathing beings, some are not. Some protagonists face off against illness, grief, or the powers of a corrupt government. We like to call these kinds of antagonists abstract antagonists because they don’t take actual physical form. If your script’s antagonist is not a living person/animal/entity, you have an abstract antagonist. It may be easier to think of it this way: if your protagonist cannot physically kick your antagonist in the knee, he or she is probably abstract.

Physical Antagonist

A racist or intolerant character

A character who is working to make sure your protagonist lives a poverty-stricken life

A character who is forcing your character to struggle against nature (e.g. someone who has left your character stranded in Antarctica)

A character whose religious beliefs oppress your protagonist

A government official such as a dictator who has it in for your protagonist

Your protagonist’s evil boss

A character whose sole mission is to make sure your protagonist becomes ill (e.g. through poisoning or exposure to a deadly disease)

Abstract Antagonist

Racism/intolerance in a community or in general

Poverty or the economy in a community or in general

Nature as an entity (e.g. a natural disaster or an extreme climate)

A religion or all religions

A corrupt government

A corporation/company

Disease/illness in general

It’s a great idea for you, the author, to try and get to know your characters before you begin writing. We asked a team of scientists, mathematicians, and creative writing gurus from around the world, “What’s the easiest way for writers to get to know their characters?” Hands down, the experts all agreed the single best way is to fill out a Character Questionnaire for all your characters.

Character Questionnaire

In your notebook, answer the questions in this questionnaire about your characters.

Section One: Core Character QuestionsComplete Section One for every character in your book. If you have an abstract antagonist, try to answer as many questions as you can from this section for them then move on to Section Four.

Section Two: Questions for Your Supporting CharactersComplete Section Two just for your supporting characters.

Section Three: Questions for a Physical AntagonistComplete Section Three if you have a physical antagonist. OR Section Four: Questions for an Abstract Antagonist. Complete Section Four if you have an abstract antagonist.

Section One: Complete this section for all your characters!

1. Name:

2. Age:

3. Height:

4. Eye color:

5. Physical appearance:

6. Strange or unique physical attributes:

7. Favorite clothing style/outfit:

8. Where does he or she live? What is it like there?

9. Defining gestures/movements (i.e., curling his or her lip when he or she speaks, always keeping his or her eyes on the ground, etc.):

10. Things about his or her appearance he or she would most like to change:

11. Speaking style (fast, talkative, monotone, etc.):

12. Pet peeves:

13. Fondest memory:

14. Hobbies/interests:

15. Special skills/abilities:

16. Insecurities:

17. Quirks/eccentricities:

18. Temperament (easygoing, easily angered, etc.):

19. Negative traits:

20. Things that upset him or her:

21. Things that embarrass him or her:

22. Things this character really cares about:

23. Any phobias?

24. Things that make him or her happy:

25. Family (describe):

26. Deepest, darkest secret:

27. Reason he or she kept this secret for so long:

28. Other people’s opinions of this character (What do people like about this character? What do they dislike about this character?):

29. Favorite bands/songs/type of music:

30. Favorite movies:

31. Favorite TV shows:

32. Favorite foods:

33. Favorite sports/sports teams:

34. Political views:

35. Religion/philosophy:

36. Dream vacation:

37. Description of his or her house:

48. Description of his or her bedroom:

39. Any pets?

40. Best thing that has ever happened to this character:

41. Worst thing that has ever happened to this character:

42. Superstitions:

43. Three words to describe this character:

44. If a song played every time this character walked into the room, what song would it be?

Section Two: Supporting Character Questions

1. Relationship to the protagonist:

2. Character’s favorite thing about the protagonist:

3. Similarities to protagonist:

4. Differences from protagonist:

Section Three: Antagonist Questions

1. Why is he or she facing off against the protagonist?

2. Any likable traits?

3. Weaknesses:

Section Four: Abstract Antagonist

1. What is your abstract antagonist? Is it a disease like cancer, a social ill like poverty, or something larger than life, like grief?

2. How is this antagonist affecting the protagonist?

3. Do other characters notice? How does this antagonist affect the other people in your script?

So there you have it. If you want well-rounded, believable characters, get to know them before you start writing. It will make telling the story a whole lot easier as well. And, until next time, Happy Writing! :)

Editing…A Blessing or a Chore?

My first opportunity to work with an editor was a real eye opener.

Lori Graham and Susan Yates of The Wild Rose Press worked with me on two manuscripts. Susan had Zakia and the Cowboy and Lori had Love on the Rocks, and wow, did I learn a lot from those two ladies. Unfortunately, my books didn’t meet their qualifications for publishing, but it was a terrific learning experience for me.

POV, yep, point of view…my characters were all over the place, back and forth so much that a reader couldn’t possibly grasp any depth or insight into the main characters. That was my biggest mistake and I learned how to overcome the need to bounce around between the characters. (Something some of my favorite authors do, btw.) Anyway, POV changes, also called head hopping, can be distracting to a reader. It’s important to remain in one character’s POV for an entire scene or at least 750 words. (So I’ve been told.)

I write in third person point of view as explained in this excerpt taken from the following site. http://www.learner.org/interactives/literature/read/pov2.html.

“In the 3rd person POV the narrator does not participate in the action of the story as one of the characters, but lets us know exactly how the characters feel. We learn about the characters through this outside voice.”

If you are in the hero’s POV, you don’t know what the other person is thinking, seeing, feeling, etc. You can assume, but you don’t know

Example of abrupt POV switch. We are in his POV to start.

“Come, let’s go,” he commanded as, taking her hand, he almost pulled her across the room. If he didn’t get her out of there, now, they’d never make it to his dinner party.

Blushing, she managed to mumble a quick ‘thank you’ before being ushered out the door and into the waiting vehicle. What was it about this man that had her running hot one minute, with just a look, and stone cold the next with his abrupt change of stature or voice?

And another thing I learned the hard way…floating body parts. lol

“His eyes roamed the room.” Yes, we know what the author means, but eyes do not jump out and roam the room at will. Better to say: His gaze roamed the room.

“Her hand reached for the kettle.” Has her hand become unattached? No, and again, we know what the author is saying although the picture these words paint is kind of eerie. Better to say: She reached for the kettle.

Suffice it to say, sometimes keeping it simple is better. Always remember, an editor is there to make your work stronger, more sale-able. I approach edits with joy as the end product is one I feel proud to release. If you have questions or comments, please list them in the comments and I’ll do my best to answer.

In the meantime, happy reading and writing! :)

Oh, I almost forgot, Guarding Flint is still on sale at the preorder price of $2.99 for a limited time.

Just click on the cover or the link below and you’re there.

myBook.to/GFlint

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

99 Cent Sale!!!

Blessed Homecoming is one of my favorite novels. Classified as an inspirational, contemporary, romantic suspense, ergo…a clean read with plenty of action. :)

A friend of mine, Denise Ellyson, challenged me to write a story to enter in a Harlequin Love Inspired Suspense contest. It wasn’t accepted due to a birthing scene, but that’s okay. Even the most devout Christian knows there is nudity involved in giving birth. As it was pertinent to the story and the situation in which the main characters found themselves in, I left the scene in.

Blurb:

Wendy Danforth is preparing to be a single mom, her ex-husband in jail for spousal abuse. She returns home to Riverton, New Brunswick, only to be caught off guard by the handyman in residence. Attraction hits, swift and piercing, but she quells her unruly emotions. With one bad relationship behind her, she’s in no hurry to get involved in another. Besides, at almost nine months pregnant, she wasn’t exactly looking her best.

Jake Roberts, hired to renovate the Danforths’ house, took one look at his employer’s daughter and wanted to run far and fast. He hadn’t been around a pregnant woman in three long years, not since his wife and unborn son died in an auto accident. But when her ex-husband escapes custody, he steps up to protect Wendy and her unborn child.

Excerpt:

Jake found it hard to believe what he’d overheard, what that sweet, caring woman had endured at the hands of a man who had vowed to cherish and protect her. He’d been heading down to retrieve a package of wood screws when he heard Wendy crying and didn’t want to interrupt. He didn’t want to eavesdrop either, but her pain-wracked voice kept him an unwilling captive as she relayed events.

Broken bones, cracked ribs, dislocated shoulder and bruising over seventy-five per cent of her body. Then to heal and find out she was pregnant! Why would she be so happy about having that man’s baby? Surely, she couldn’t still love him after all that.

Hearing her speak of her faith in the midst of all that suffering struck a rusty chord inside his gut. Somehow, deep down, her quiet acceptance and determination spoke to him in ways that expensive therapy had not. She was a survivor, he’d give her that, but if her friend hadn’t found her—no, he wouldn’t go there. He couldn’t. Divine intervention, she’d called it. He called it lucky.

She’d come home to heal and build a new life for herself and the baby. Surrounded by family and friends, she’d never have to fear for her life again. Although he’d barely known her twenty-four hours and had a definite aversion to getting involved in her problems, he’d do what he could to help her adjust to living in a small town again. If the gossips wanted to pair them off, so be it. He’d been through worse—much worse.

He sat on the step with his head in his hands, undecided whether to let her know he’d overheard or pretend ignorance. How could he ignore the pain she’d suffered? More surprisingly, he realized he wanted to be there for her, to prove that not every man was prone to acts of violence. Although, like her father, he’d had some thoughts on what he’d like to do to her ex if he ever had the chance.

She took the matter out of his hands when she sat a couple steps below him and, placing a hand on his knee, asked, “How much did you hear?”

His head jerked up and he searched her eyes, expecting to see anger and disgust at his audacity, but there was none. “Pretty much all of it. I’m sorry, Wendy. I didn’t intend to eavesdrop, but I didn’t want to barge in on you either.”

“Are you all right?”

“You’re asking me? After all you’ve suffered, I should be asking you that question.”

“My suffering ended the day he was found guilty. All that’s left now is the sentencing in two weeks’ time and I don’t need to be there for that.”

“But you’re expecting his child. How is that not suffering, considering what he put you through?”

“Every life is a gift from God. I don’t always understand His methods, but at least I have one good thing resulting from a failed marriage.”

“Did you love him that much?”

“At first, yes, very much. He was the man I’d always dreamed about, kind, caring and it didn’t hurt that he was gorgeous to boot.” She smiled at the memory, then sobered. “The love died a slow death when the abuse started. He always made me feel like it was my fault, until the day I ended up in the hospital with a broken arm and didn’t go back. I realized then my dreams of a happy ever after were never going to happen.”

“What did you do? Where did you go?”

“A social worker at the hospital made a couple of calls and arranged a bed in a shelter for abused women. My arm being broken meant I couldn’t work for a couple weeks, but when I returned, I found out from my boss, Emma, that he’d been haunting the place, waiting for me to show up. She’d had to call the police on a couple of occasions.

She became my best friend. Emma encouraged me to lay charges and file a restraining order against him, which I did. I also filed for divorce. He didn’t show up in court, didn’t contest it, so the judge granted the petition based on the abuse.”

“I would think so,” he huffed in agreement.

“I saw Clyde around from time to time after that, and he never made any effort to approach me, for which I was thankful. But the night before the divorce became final, he showed up after I got home from work. The rest, as they say, is history.”

“Can you really put it all behind you that easily?”

“Believe me, Jake, it hasn’t been easy. Easy started yesterday when Mama met me at the bus stop with her arms wide open. Until then, I’d hoped, but wasn’t at all certain of my welcome, circumstances being what they are.”

He placed a hand over hers where it still rested on his knee. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here. You are one remarkably strong lady and I’m honored to be your friend.”

“My faith is what’s strong. I had to believe the Lord has a purpose for me in this life. That’s when I decided it was time to come home. I’d been away too long.” She gently disentangled her hand and rose to her feet, slightly wobbly at first, causing him to reach out and grab her upper arms to steady her. “Thank you.”

***

I hope you enjoyed this teaser excerpt. It always brings tears to my eyes when I read it. There is no excuse for abuse, but it takes a lot of strength to survive, even thrive, after an event so horrible.

Blessed Homecoming is on sale today and tomorrow. Well worth the read at 99 cents.

Just click the Amazon link and it’ll take you where you need to be to purchase this novel. And thank you for your support. Love to all!

myBook.to/BH

And if you prefer a print book, it costs more, but then you have a copy to hold.

myBook.to/BH-pt

P.S. This book was originally published by the now defunct Breathless Press. When they went under and I got my rights back, I lost my reviews. If you have a moment, please consider leaving a review for Blessed Homecoming on Amazon or Goodreads. Thank you so much. :)

New Release! Guarding Flint

New Release!!! It’s that time again. LOL

Guarding Flint, Wyoming Secrets Book 1, is my 31st title and is now available on Amazon. Just click the link at the end of this post and it will take you to the Amazon nearest you. Gotta love those international links. :) 

Guarding Flint is a contemporary novel of romantic suspense. It’s also a clean read for those of you who don’t appreciate the bedroom door being open. :)

Blurb:

Ella Delaney is a small town girl with a big heart, except when it concerns Flint Harrington. She’s working a case when her sons’ long absent father winds up in the middle of her stakeout.

Flint reconnects with Ella during his working vacation in Thayne, Wyoming, hoping for a long overdue reconciliation. But shots fired at him coupled with his daughter’s kidnapping has Ella investigating him instead.

Can they work out their troubled past while surviving present dangers? Or the better question…after the way Flint left years ago without a word, can he count on Ella’s help?

Excerpt:

Chapter One

“No!” Ella Delaney spoke under her breath as a car drove up to the building she had under surveillance. The old manufacturing plant had been redone and now encompassed several office suites, but as it was after hours, the amount of activity she’d seen as she drove by was unusual. This car was a late model Ford Fusion, a family car, different from the splashy vehicles that had arrived earlier.

“Don’t get out. Go away,” she pleaded silently to no avail. Instinct told her something was about to go down, but she hadn’t a clue what, so she’d called for back up and stayed out of sight.

The man braked to a stop in front of the main entrance. He turned off the engine. Her heart launched into her throat as he opened the driver’s door. Could he be part of the organization that leased this building? The man stepped onto the asphalt parking lot and closed the door. She saw the glint of a gun barrel from an upstairs window at the same time as she recognized the man by the car…Flint Harrington. He hadn’t changed much, except for the fancy suit he wore.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Her stomach knotted in fear for him. Then adrenalin kicked in and she ran. The distance between them seemed farther with every step. “Get down!” she hollered. She was upon him in moments and knocked him to the ground. Bullets peppered the pavement around them, but they were relatively safe behind the shelter of his vehicle. “We have to get out of here.” She slipped sideways to let him up, suddenly conscious of the fact that she had landed on top of him. He used to like having me in that position. She gave her head a mental shake and moved into a low crouch. “Keep your head down unless you want it blown off.”

“What the hell is going on?” he asked in a harsh voice.

“Later.” Ella shot a quick glance at the window. “He’s reloading. Now’s our chance.” She opened the driver’s door and crawled across the seat, careful to keep her head low, but when she turned, he was still on his knees outside. “Flint, come on.”

His head jerked up when he heard his name and a brief moment later, she saw recognition dawn on his handsome face. He nodded once and climbed in behind the wheel. “Where to?”

“Anywhere. Just go. Get us out of here.” She dialed her partner as Flint reversed and, with tires squealing, took off. She ducked as bullets sprayed the passenger side of the car.

“Bursey.”

“Fred, where are you?”

“Enroute to your location. ETA two minutes,” he answered.

She straightened up in her seat. “I hope you brought back-up. Those guys are armed and shooting at anyone who goes near. I just rescued a civilian from their parking lot.”

“Good God! Are you all right?” he asked.

“I’m fine and so is the civilian.”

He mumbled something in response. She didn’t quite catch it, but she knew what he was thinking. She wished Fred wouldn’t come off as being so protective just because she was a female. She’d been on the job long enough to prove herself and then some.

“Signing off. We’ll park around the corner of Seventh and Douglas and wait for you.” She disconnected the call and clipped her phone back into its holster.

Flint braked to a stop in front of a derelict building on the corner of Seventh and Douglas.

“You were eavesdropping,” she accused.

He turned toward her, a frown marring his features. “Hardly eavesdropping when you’re sitting right beside me. I couldn’t help but overhear. So what’s going on?”

Business, Delaney. Stick to business and forget about those blue, blue eyes and that hunky body. “Why were you at that building?”

He settled back in his seat, his gaze roaming over her from head to toe. “It’s not polite to answer a question with a question,” he replied.

His avid perusal made Ella glad she was sitting down. Her body tingled with awareness from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. If she’d been standing, she was certain her legs wouldn’t hold her; such was his effect on her…still. “So sue me. Now answer the question.” She showed him her badge.

He appeared suitably impressed, his eyebrows rose in surprise as he nodded. “I didn’t know you’d entered law enforcement. And to answer your question, I was there to check on an order.”

How could you know? You left without a word and didn’t bother to keep in touch. “What kind of order?” Several vehicles pulled into the lot across the road. “Never mind. Later. Stay put.” She exited the car and joined her comrades.

“Who’s your friend,” Fred asked.

“Flint Harrington. What’s the plan?” she asked, nodding at her colleagues to acknowledge their presence.

“Harrington? What’s he doing in town?” Fred’s forehead creased as he squinted his eyes against the sunlight and tried to see through the tinted glass on Flint’s car.

“Delivering an order, but we’ll get to that later.”

“All right. You said they’re shooting? From where?” Fred asked.

“The shooter was at an upstairs window in front. As soon as Flint got out of his car, he opened fire.” She shuddered at the realization that he could’ve been shot. Hell, they both could’ve ended up bleeding out on the asphalt.

“And you ran to his rescue at the risk of getting yourself killed? You just might have saved one of the organization’s men. Did you think of that?” Fred lectured, his stance one of outrage.

“Momentarily, yes, but if he was part of their organization, why would they shoot at him?” she asked, trying to keep calm in the face of his questioning. “Now, what’s the plan?” she asked, effectively changing the subject.

“How did you get so close without them seeing you?” Fred asked.

“I saw too many cars in the parking lot of a vacant building, so I parked and went in from the east side. There aren’t any windows on that wall and I was able to hide behind a dumpster and watch as several shady-looking characters arrived, most carrying packages of some sort. It didn’t look good and I wasn’t going to tackle that crew alone, so I called for back-up. From what I’ve observed, the east side is still our best approach.”

“Then let’s go.” He turned to the other officers present. “Ella and I will go first, then count to ten and send two more. Repeat. Any questions?” Fred asked.

Everyone shook their heads, ready to follow at ten paces.

“Keep alert,” he said.

Fred took the lead, as usual, even though it had been her stakeout. She couldn’t blame him though. He’d protected her from the time they were little kids and living in foster care. She’d needed him then. Now…not so much, but he was the big brother she’d never had and she didn’t want to hurt his feelings by protesting too much.

Halfway to the building, she heard engines start around front. Tires squealed and she could smell the burnt rubber as they took off. “I don’t like this.”

“Neither do I,” Fred said as they kept moving forward.

An explosion rent the air and they dived for cover behind an abandoned vehicle, debris falling all around them as if it was dark rain.

“What in the blazes was that?” she asked, brushing a burning ember off her shoulder.

“They bombed the place. You okay?” Fred asked as he looked her over and brushed away more of the ash that had landed on her.

“I’m fine. You?” she asked as she took stock of the officers following. It looked as if no one had gotten hurt in the blast. Fred didn’t have time to answer as a second explosion, much nearer, had them running for a safer spot.

She hit speed dial for emergency as she ran. This was an older section of Thayne, Wyoming, and these buildings would burn like matchsticks.

“911. What is the nature of your emergency?” asked the dispatcher.

“This is Officer Ella Delaney. There’s been a bombing at the old cheese factory on Douglas. Send emergency crews.”

“Right away, Officer Delaney. Was anyone hurt?”

“I don’t think so. Better send the paramedics just in case.”

“I’m on it.”

Ella stopped beside Fred and the other officers at a safe distance from the blaze and looked back at the carnage. Several smaller explosions added to the flames as they watched. The entire building was a blazing inferno. She heard sirens in the distance. “It’s a good thing we didn’t try to rush the place. We would’ve been blown to kingdom come.”

“Or shot down on sight.”

“Yeah. Do you think Flint was a decoy? If they suspected we were onto them, they might’ve arranged that little scenario to draw us out into the open.”

“Maybe, or it could be that he was targeted because of his involvement with them,” Fred said, watching her closely.

Did Fred suspect she still had feelings for the man after all the time that had elapsed since Flint had been gone? “You mean they didn’t trust him for some reason?”

“Could be just about anything.”

“Then we’d better get back and take his statement,” she said, hoping Flint had a viable answer for being on the scene. The fire trucks arrived and the firefighters went to work on controlling the blaze. They assigned a few men to crowd control and, as there was nothing else they could do to help, they walked back to their vehicles.

Flint ’s car was gone.

 ***

That’s it for now, folks. Enjoy!

myBook.to/GFlint

Characters…Choosing names to Suit

Do you struggle with naming your characters? Believe it or not, I don’t. A name is sometimes the first thing that strikes me…as in Zakia and the Cowboy.

I worked at a call center in town until my health got the best of me. One night, while I was answering phones, a caller named Zakia came on the line. The name stuck in my head long after the call ended and I found myself jotting quick notes to go with the name.

Zakia, exotic name, needs a hero with simple name, ergo, Luke.

Now Available in Print!!!

Zakia, long blond hair, emerald green eyes, 5’8″ tall

Zakia, banker’s daughter, wealthy family, used to socializing, partying, and having attention

Zakia, interests include, cooking, baking, gardening, and charity work

Zakia and Luke, married young, divorced young

Luke, third generation rancher in Alberta

Luke, collar length blond hair, sapphire blue eyes, 6’4″

Luke, rancher, thinks Zakia left him because she got bored with ranch life, when in truth she hated competing with the ranch for his attention.

All of this I jotted down between calls that same night and Zakia and the Cowboy was born. I now had a NanoWriMo project for November.

Only I couldn’t wait. :)

Nano was only about a week away but the characters kept talking to me (Yep, they really did!) until I sat down and began writing their story. At first, it was just hand-written pages between calls at work, but when I sat down to type up my notes, the story kept unfolding. It was getting really good and by the time Nano officially started on November 1st, I was 13042 words into Zakia and Luke’s story, and I now knew that it would be a romantic suspense as the villain had also popped in to speak his mind. lol I really had a lot of fun writing this story.

2009 was my first Nano and I was determined to write 50,000 words, which was required to finish Nano through the Harlequin forum. (I didn’t realize there was an official Nano site at that time).

Here’s how it went:

National Novel Writing Month, 2009!

Zakia & The Cowboy: Started with 13042 Words

Nov 1 – 4791…17833

2 – 3990…21823

3 – 2995…24818

4 – 4778…29596

5 – 3523…33119

6 – 0

7 – 3060…36179

8 – 1618…37797

9 – 3217…41014

10 – 1135…42149

11 – 4340…46489

12 – 3134…49623

13 – 3693…53316

14 – 3620…56936

(NaNo words: 43894)

I finished Zakia and the Cowboy, edited it, and sent it off to my critique partners. As we were only halfway through November and I already had the outline and beginning of another story, Daydreams & Night Scenes, I decided to finish it.

In this story, I needed a name for the heroine that could double as a man’s name. She became Miranda, Randi to her friends. The hero is a rich playboy and I decided on Alexander, a strong name that the hero has to live up to by the end of the book. :)

This novel is, as yet, unpublished, but I just submitted it to a publisher. If they don’t offer a contract, I’ll self-publish it as planned.

Daydreams & Night Scenes: Started with 12604 Words

15 – 0…12604

16 – 1477…14081

17 – 4968…19049

18 – 2517…21566

19 – 3581…25147

20 – 1459…26606

21 – 573…27179

22 – 5163…32342

23 – 3256…35598

24 – 4402…40000

25 – 5110…45110

26 – 3265…48375

27 – 1726…50101

(NaNo words: 37497)

Urgh! This story was finished and I still had 3 days left. I was on a roll! Went searching my files for another story not finished (I always have a few. lol) and found Once in This Lifetime.

Jemma Leigh is the name of the heroine in this story. Why? Because it popped into my head at the right time. :) It was a distinctly feminine name for a strong woman, proving that a woman could be both. Theodore, her Teddy Bear from high school, had graduated and joined the army. Years later, Jemma Leigh and Ted are both back in their hometown and second chances just might be possible as they reunite and he appoints himself her bodyguard against the stalker who’s threatened her.

I later changed the title to Her Unlikely Bodyguard as Danielle Steel, one of my favorite authors, has a book out titled Once in This Lifetime. :)

Once In This Lifetime: Started with 18169 Words

27 – 1433…19602

28 – 6068…25670

29 – 6374…32044

30 – 5418…37462

(NaNo words: 19293)

I’d finished two novels and got well over halfway through the 3rd in 30 days. (28 really as I had two 0 word days) My end total was 100,684 words. Needless to say, I was impressed. I never thought I had that many words in me, but my poor fingers. lol I’d really put my 30 wpm typing speed to the test.

I’ve never managed to write that much in one month since, (Marketing and Promo take its toll) but it sure gave me a jump start in the publishing world. I submitted Zakia and the Cowboy to various publishers and suffered through 14 rejections until it was picked up by Evernight Publishing. They’ve been an excellent company to work with. By then I was writing the sequel, Covert Mission: Undercover Cop. I now have 7 books in the Thunder Creek Ranch series and #8, A Cowboy’s Drive, is in the works. I hope to finish the series this year with book #10, A Manning Christmas.

I hope this post has helped you in some way. If you have any questions, I’d be happy to answer them. Just post in the comment section. In the meantime, happy reading and writing to all of you. :)

 

Inspiration…Where does it come From?

The single most often asked question of me as an author is, “Where do you get your inspiration?” I usually just give a flippant, “Anywhere and everywhere. Life. Look around you.” But in all honesty, the first book I wrote for adults, Love on the Rocks, came about while I was doing typing tests to get the flexibility back in my hand after my thumb had been amputated. The Hopewell Rocks tourist attraction is only about a half hour drive from where I live and I’d been there many times over the years. I’d never heard of a romance being located there – and believe me, I’ve read plenty.

I ran across a typing test involving beaches and I immediately thought of The Rocks at Hopewell Cape. As I painstakingly retyped the copy with a sore hand, an idea sprang to mind and I quickly shifted gears. I can do this. I can write a novel about The Rocks. Seven weeks later, my thumb still wasn’t co-operating fully, but I had finished and edited a 63,000 word novel.

Boy, was I impressed! Up until that point, I had written poetry, short stories, and books for children, but never had I taken on a project of such magnitude. As my mom would say, “I was feeling my oats that day.” :)

Everybody that read that book encouraged me to submit it. So I did, and suffered through rejection after rejection. I kept reading posts about how a writer learns something new with every book they write. So, I set my ‘baby’ aside and started on another. Surely, I had another story in me.

Daydreams & Night Scenes was the next novel I wrote and, although it has not yet been published, it’s on my to-do-list for editing and publishing.

A few years ago, I studied and registered to be a foster parent. I got thinking of that one day. Quite often, foster homes are situated next to more affluent homes, as mine was, although I had a ranch style bungalow that I loved. What if a poor foster child fell in love with the neighborhood rich boy? But he never noticed her, until…they attended a business conference at a swanky hotel years later.

Yep, that was the start of my idea for the new novel. By then I’d learned about GMC (goal, motivation, and conflict) and did up a GMC sheet for my story. For me, but maybe not for all authors, a GMC Sheet includes:

Setting: Jot down the location and anything else that puts a firm picture in mind. City? Country? Ranch? Farm?

Heroine: Who is she? What does she work at? What does she drive? Where is she from? What does she look like? What is her goal? Her motivation? What conflict will arise that might keep her from getting it? Does she have any flaws? How does she need to grow or what does she need to overcome in order to reach her goal?

Hero: Same as for heroine. We need our readers to love the main characters, so give it your best shot.

Plot: What makes your story unique? Develop the plot here.

Sub-plot(s): If any, list them.

Black Moment: That point of no return when the main character(s) think all is lost.

Resolution: How will you fix it? What is going to tie it all together and give them their happy-ever-after?

Tag line or Log Line: (for marketing purposes.) Have you thought of one?

Writing is a lot of work and has a continual learning curve. It’s research, writing, more research, more writing, and when the story is finished and you think you’re done, then comes the editing. And the submissions. And the rejections. Make sure you have broad shoulders if this is the career path you’ve chosen. Remember, you can’t please everybody.

Happy Writing!

Guarding Flint now Available for Pre-order!!!

Yes, you read it right. :)

Guarding Flint, Book 1 in my new Wyoming Secrets western series, is releasing on January 29th, but I’m happy to announce that it is now available for pre-order.

Blurb:

Ella Delaney is a small town girl with a big heart, except when it concerns Flint Harrington. Tough as nails city cop Ella is working a case when her son’s long absent father winds up in the middle of her stakeout.

Flint reconnects with Ella during his working vacation in Thayne, Wyoming, hoping for a long overdue reconciliation. But shots fired at him coupled with his daughter’s kidnapping has Ella investigating him instead.

Can they work out their troubled past while surviving present dangers? Or the better question…after the way Flint left years ago without a word, can he count on Ella’s help?

Sound interesting? Order it by clicking here.

Thank you for your support.