Michele Scott's Blog, page 7
November 7, 2011
Chapter Four of COVERT REICH and a New Recipe
Happy Monday! A few things--thank you to everyone who has asked about Alex. We are home and he is doing very well. His sister and I baked him a batch of chocolate chip cookies yesterday, which I think eased the pains some. Nothing like homemade cookies to put a smile on the face. I just downed two cookies myself and now my stomach is saying, "Um excuse me--that will go to your ass, you know?" Whatever. I will exercise more. Sure I will.
On another note I came to a sort of epiphany this past weekend. I received three of the nicest e-mails from readers that I have ever received. They were gracious and encouraging and it helped me realize that even though my books are for pure entertainment and escape that my work does touch people. Not everyone, but I will take the few that I know for sure my books help take someone out of their day to day stuff and be entertained for a bit. To extend my gratitude I am doing a couple of things. The first is I am keeping the .99 cent price point on all A.K. Alexander thrillers through the holidays for Kindle readers. My hope is that if you like my books that you would consider gifting the readers in your life a copy. You can't purchase too many gifts these days for under a buck! I am also gifting everyone who is signed up for my newsletter an e-read copy of DADDY'S HOME. If you are signed up for the newsletter expect to receive this gift via Amazon some time this week. If you are not signed up for my newsletter, it's easy. Just go to my site at http://www.michelescott.com/ where you can sign up for the quarterly newsletter.
Next, I have not added a recipe here in a bit, so I thought I would give you one that I put together last night. It was rainy and cold, so my youngest and I thought Chili sounded good. We had to do it wothout beans though because my husband does not eat beans. I guess you could either call this beanless chili or really it can also be called a Mexican Stew.
Ingredients:
One Leek stalk washed and chopped
Three cans of diced tomatoes
One packet of Chili seasonings (Schillings or Lawrys)
One red bell pepper diced
One green bell pepper diced
2 pounds stewing beef
4 slices of bacon
2 boxes of beef broth
One cup of red wine
Dash of saltDash of chipotle powder
Dash of ancho chili powder
Emeril's hamburger seasonings
1 teaspoon oregano
1teaspoon sage
1/4 cup cilantro
sour cream
shredded cheese
limes
tablespoon of olive oil
Season and brown beef in olive oil over medium high with Emeril's seasonings (a few shakes) in chili pot. Dice the bacon and cook until crisp in separate pan, scoop bacon bits into chili pot. Pour in red wine, tomatoes, and broth. Sautee peppers and leek in bacon drippings until soft. Once veggies are soft (about 8 minutes), place into pot. Toss in chopped herbs and dashes of chili pepper powders. Blend and bring to a boil. Turn to low and simmer for two hours. Serve in bowls, squeeze a lime slice in the chili, top with a spoonful of sour cream and sprinkle with shredded cheese. It's even tastier the next day. This one is full of flavor.
Now here is Chapter Four of COVERT REICH. Sorry to say the book release date has been postponed by one week but that gives you a little more time to read on and decide if you want to continue when it comes out.
Cheers,
Michele
CHAPTER FOUR
The elevator doors opened silently and Kelly stepped out. The stale, cool air hit her abruptly. She shivered.
In spite of the charming Dr. Hamilton, this was not one of her favorite places to visit. She generally tried to avoid it if at all possible. She was all about saving lives. Dead bodies were a grim reminder things didn't always work out.
The morgue hallway was long and dim. Four doors on either side led to various offices. Jake Hamilton's was the last on the right. Kelly tapped lightly, but there was no answer. She turned the handle. It was unlocked, so she went in and waited.
The cramped office was cluttered with stacks of files on the floor and half-opened cabinets. UCLA and Stanford degrees hung on the wall. The combined smells of mothballs, formaldehyde, and coffee stung her eyes. A photo of Jake's teenage daughter in a cheerleading uniform stood on his desk. All photos of his wife had been discretely removed, due to their recent divorce.
Jake stepped into the room. "Hey, you!" His green eyes sparkled. Those eyes, nice smile, and sun-kissed blonde hair gave him the air of a pretty boy. But there was a definite edge to Dr. Hamilton. A slightly crooked nose, the scar above his right eyebrow—they were just enough to make a woman wonder what sort of trouble he got into in his spare time. If Kelly had to guess, the scar was an old one, probably from a fall off of his bicycle when he was a kid. "I didn't expect you down here, but I'm happy to see you. What's up?"
"What isn't? Up, I mean." Kelly smiled, aware of the chemistry growing between them. They'd been colleagues and good friends for years, and it was becoming pretty clear he was interested in her. But at the same time, he was fresh off a divorce and Kelly didn't want to rush into anything just yet.
"Oh now you've piqued my curiosity. What brings you down to the depths of despair?"
"Curiosity."
"Oh, yeah? About what?" He crossed his arms and leaned back against his desk, his eyebrows raised.
"You received a patient down here in the past hour. Lupe Salazar?"
"I did. I haven't had a chance to process her yet. Ty is in with her right now prepping the body. I'm backlogged though. It's been a crazy week." He paused, tapping his fingers on the desk. "Why the interest in this girl?" He stood and walked over to his coffee machine and held up a cup. "Want some? I splurged and picked up one of those instant espresso machines. Delicious."
"Yes, thanks. Some liquid fuel would help right now, I think."
He fiddled with buttons and after 30 seconds of hissing, a freshly brewed cup of espresso streamed into a waiting cup. Jake deftly scooped a heaping spoonful of sugar into it, stirred, and then handed it over. She studied him for a second.
"You wondering how I knew how you liked your coffee?" She didn't respond. "Because I pay attention, Kel. We've had coffee together a few times. When you like someone, you notice things, file them away for future use." He smiled and raised his cup to her.
Kelly felt heat rise to her cheeks.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you."
She smiled and took a careful sip of her piping hot, and perfectly sweetened, espresso. "No. Not at all. We're friends."
"Yes we are. So before I dig myself in any deeper, let's talk about this patient."
"She delivered one of my babies."
"Tough stuff, I take it?" He took another sip from the small cup.
"Yeah. Strange. She came in here not even three hours ago, and now she's dead. No family that we can locate. No boyfriend. Nothing. Of course, I start with the stereotypical train of thought, and I'm thinking she's a runaway and is caught up in some bad things. Brightman was the attending, and he gets on the scene and tries to go chief on me. We were losing the girl, and the baby's time was running out. I had no idea what we were dealing with since it all happened so fast the labs hadn't even come back yet. My gut was telling me she's addicted, got something running through those veins. It was the only thing that made sense."
"You're skilled, Kelly. If that was your guess, I'm sure it was a good one."
"I know. But I'm watching this girl, looking into her eyes, and all I can think is something is off. Lupe wasn't drugged out, Jake. It would have made sense based on the way she was acting, but she wasn't. So the girl seizes, codes, and dies. Nothing was going to save her. I've never seen anything like this. From everything I can tell, we were dealing with a healthy teenager. Anyway, baby was failing. I had to get her out. We couldn't bring the mom back. She was gone, so I took over and did a C-section. I've got the baby now in NICU with all sorts of problems. I don't know what to make of any of this. I need that autopsy. Something is wrong here."
"What are you saying?" Jake asked.
"That so far all of her labs have come back inconclusive for drugs, which makes me wonder if there is something new on the streets we don't know about. She had no alcohol present either."
Jake's eyes widened. She noticed a tic in his left hand that caused his coffee to nearly spill over. He walked around to the back side of his desk and sat down in his chair.
"Are you all right?" Kelly asked.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. It's just that what you're telling me sounds, well, unusual."
"Tell me about it," she replied.
"I'm not sure what I can do. I won't have a report ready on this girl for at least forty-eight hours, maybe longer. And you know how long tox can take." He absentmindedly picked up the photo of his daughter.
"Rumor has it this girl isn't the only one. In the last week, it's my understanding that two other women came in, delivered, coded, and died. Both had stillborns. The baby I have upstairs is the only one to survive so far. I haven't had a chance to look into the mothers' backgrounds or anything, so I'm only going off what I've been hearing in the hallways. I need your help here, Jake. Did you find anything in the autopsies on those other women? It might help me with the baby in the NICU."
Jake didn't say anything for a moment. He turned his head to the side as if trying to figure out what to say. He brought his fist up under his nose and looked at her. His eyes closed for a second and then he sighed. "I don't know what to say. I don't think I can help in any way."
"Jake?"
He was quiet for a moment. "There was nothing odd about the autopsies. I mean, no strange chemical makeup or anything. I don't know. I wish I could help, but…"
"But what? You're telling me you don't know how those girls died? Come on. Of course you know. Natural causes? Is that what you're saying? How can the hospital get around that? Were the mothers healthy or not, Jake? That's all I'm asking."
"I can't…I don't…"
Kelly didn't like the evasive tone in his voice. "Jesus, Jake. What is it? What the hell is wrong? You're freaking me out." She had asked him a simple question, and he was acting like this?
He grabbed her by the hand. Out of instinct she pulled back. He held on tighter and pulled her close to him, lowering his voice to a whisper. "You have to drop this. Leave this alone, Kel."
She pulled back again, and this time he let go of her hand. "You're scaring me. What's going on?"
He put his hand to his forehead. He was visibly perspiring. "I can't talk to you about these cases. They're classified."
"Classified? Classified?! I've got a baby in my unit with a slim chance of surviving, but I certainly can't help her if I don't know what I'm up against. If you know something, you need to tell me. I will take this to the chief and the board if I have to."
He shook his head. "No. You can't do that. Please. I'm begging you to drop this. You could get hurt."
"What?" She was furious. And confused. And beyond disappointed. What the hell was wrong with him? He knew damn well she needed information from the autopsies in order to help the baby. It was his duty to tell her. This conspiratorial attitude of his was ridiculous. Not in a million years would she ever have imagined Jake acting like this. "This is insane, Jake. I'm going to save that baby's life, and you're going to help me do it. You know that's the right thing to do, rules or no rules."
He paused, breathing deeply. "OK. I'll discuss this with you. Tell you what I know. But not here. It's dangerous."
Now Kelly held his stare. She saw genuine fear in his eyes. Oh my God. He's really serious. There was something going on here, and it obviously involved the death of three pregnant women. But clearly she wasn't going to get any more information out of him here.
His assistant, Ty, tapped on the door. "Dr. Hamilton, I need a hand. Can I get some help?"
"Sure. Be right there." He looked at Kelly. "Tuscany's at seven-thirty. I really wish you would drop this. Trust me."
"I'll be there. And you should know me better than that." She walked out of his office toward the elevator, baffled by what had just taken place. Jake wasn't just afraid, he was terrified.
On another note I came to a sort of epiphany this past weekend. I received three of the nicest e-mails from readers that I have ever received. They were gracious and encouraging and it helped me realize that even though my books are for pure entertainment and escape that my work does touch people. Not everyone, but I will take the few that I know for sure my books help take someone out of their day to day stuff and be entertained for a bit. To extend my gratitude I am doing a couple of things. The first is I am keeping the .99 cent price point on all A.K. Alexander thrillers through the holidays for Kindle readers. My hope is that if you like my books that you would consider gifting the readers in your life a copy. You can't purchase too many gifts these days for under a buck! I am also gifting everyone who is signed up for my newsletter an e-read copy of DADDY'S HOME. If you are signed up for the newsletter expect to receive this gift via Amazon some time this week. If you are not signed up for my newsletter, it's easy. Just go to my site at http://www.michelescott.com/ where you can sign up for the quarterly newsletter.
Next, I have not added a recipe here in a bit, so I thought I would give you one that I put together last night. It was rainy and cold, so my youngest and I thought Chili sounded good. We had to do it wothout beans though because my husband does not eat beans. I guess you could either call this beanless chili or really it can also be called a Mexican Stew.Ingredients:
One Leek stalk washed and chopped
Three cans of diced tomatoes
One packet of Chili seasonings (Schillings or Lawrys)
One red bell pepper diced
One green bell pepper diced
2 pounds stewing beef
4 slices of bacon
2 boxes of beef broth
One cup of red wine
Dash of saltDash of chipotle powder
Dash of ancho chili powder
Emeril's hamburger seasonings
1 teaspoon oregano
1teaspoon sage
1/4 cup cilantro
sour cream
shredded cheese
limes
tablespoon of olive oil
Season and brown beef in olive oil over medium high with Emeril's seasonings (a few shakes) in chili pot. Dice the bacon and cook until crisp in separate pan, scoop bacon bits into chili pot. Pour in red wine, tomatoes, and broth. Sautee peppers and leek in bacon drippings until soft. Once veggies are soft (about 8 minutes), place into pot. Toss in chopped herbs and dashes of chili pepper powders. Blend and bring to a boil. Turn to low and simmer for two hours. Serve in bowls, squeeze a lime slice in the chili, top with a spoonful of sour cream and sprinkle with shredded cheese. It's even tastier the next day. This one is full of flavor.
Now here is Chapter Four of COVERT REICH. Sorry to say the book release date has been postponed by one week but that gives you a little more time to read on and decide if you want to continue when it comes out.
Cheers,
Michele
CHAPTER FOUR
The elevator doors opened silently and Kelly stepped out. The stale, cool air hit her abruptly. She shivered.
In spite of the charming Dr. Hamilton, this was not one of her favorite places to visit. She generally tried to avoid it if at all possible. She was all about saving lives. Dead bodies were a grim reminder things didn't always work out.
The morgue hallway was long and dim. Four doors on either side led to various offices. Jake Hamilton's was the last on the right. Kelly tapped lightly, but there was no answer. She turned the handle. It was unlocked, so she went in and waited.
The cramped office was cluttered with stacks of files on the floor and half-opened cabinets. UCLA and Stanford degrees hung on the wall. The combined smells of mothballs, formaldehyde, and coffee stung her eyes. A photo of Jake's teenage daughter in a cheerleading uniform stood on his desk. All photos of his wife had been discretely removed, due to their recent divorce.
Jake stepped into the room. "Hey, you!" His green eyes sparkled. Those eyes, nice smile, and sun-kissed blonde hair gave him the air of a pretty boy. But there was a definite edge to Dr. Hamilton. A slightly crooked nose, the scar above his right eyebrow—they were just enough to make a woman wonder what sort of trouble he got into in his spare time. If Kelly had to guess, the scar was an old one, probably from a fall off of his bicycle when he was a kid. "I didn't expect you down here, but I'm happy to see you. What's up?"
"What isn't? Up, I mean." Kelly smiled, aware of the chemistry growing between them. They'd been colleagues and good friends for years, and it was becoming pretty clear he was interested in her. But at the same time, he was fresh off a divorce and Kelly didn't want to rush into anything just yet.
"Oh now you've piqued my curiosity. What brings you down to the depths of despair?"
"Curiosity."
"Oh, yeah? About what?" He crossed his arms and leaned back against his desk, his eyebrows raised.
"You received a patient down here in the past hour. Lupe Salazar?"
"I did. I haven't had a chance to process her yet. Ty is in with her right now prepping the body. I'm backlogged though. It's been a crazy week." He paused, tapping his fingers on the desk. "Why the interest in this girl?" He stood and walked over to his coffee machine and held up a cup. "Want some? I splurged and picked up one of those instant espresso machines. Delicious."
"Yes, thanks. Some liquid fuel would help right now, I think."
He fiddled with buttons and after 30 seconds of hissing, a freshly brewed cup of espresso streamed into a waiting cup. Jake deftly scooped a heaping spoonful of sugar into it, stirred, and then handed it over. She studied him for a second.
"You wondering how I knew how you liked your coffee?" She didn't respond. "Because I pay attention, Kel. We've had coffee together a few times. When you like someone, you notice things, file them away for future use." He smiled and raised his cup to her.
Kelly felt heat rise to her cheeks.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you."
She smiled and took a careful sip of her piping hot, and perfectly sweetened, espresso. "No. Not at all. We're friends."
"Yes we are. So before I dig myself in any deeper, let's talk about this patient."
"She delivered one of my babies."
"Tough stuff, I take it?" He took another sip from the small cup.
"Yeah. Strange. She came in here not even three hours ago, and now she's dead. No family that we can locate. No boyfriend. Nothing. Of course, I start with the stereotypical train of thought, and I'm thinking she's a runaway and is caught up in some bad things. Brightman was the attending, and he gets on the scene and tries to go chief on me. We were losing the girl, and the baby's time was running out. I had no idea what we were dealing with since it all happened so fast the labs hadn't even come back yet. My gut was telling me she's addicted, got something running through those veins. It was the only thing that made sense."
"You're skilled, Kelly. If that was your guess, I'm sure it was a good one."
"I know. But I'm watching this girl, looking into her eyes, and all I can think is something is off. Lupe wasn't drugged out, Jake. It would have made sense based on the way she was acting, but she wasn't. So the girl seizes, codes, and dies. Nothing was going to save her. I've never seen anything like this. From everything I can tell, we were dealing with a healthy teenager. Anyway, baby was failing. I had to get her out. We couldn't bring the mom back. She was gone, so I took over and did a C-section. I've got the baby now in NICU with all sorts of problems. I don't know what to make of any of this. I need that autopsy. Something is wrong here."
"What are you saying?" Jake asked.
"That so far all of her labs have come back inconclusive for drugs, which makes me wonder if there is something new on the streets we don't know about. She had no alcohol present either."
Jake's eyes widened. She noticed a tic in his left hand that caused his coffee to nearly spill over. He walked around to the back side of his desk and sat down in his chair.
"Are you all right?" Kelly asked.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. It's just that what you're telling me sounds, well, unusual."
"Tell me about it," she replied.
"I'm not sure what I can do. I won't have a report ready on this girl for at least forty-eight hours, maybe longer. And you know how long tox can take." He absentmindedly picked up the photo of his daughter.
"Rumor has it this girl isn't the only one. In the last week, it's my understanding that two other women came in, delivered, coded, and died. Both had stillborns. The baby I have upstairs is the only one to survive so far. I haven't had a chance to look into the mothers' backgrounds or anything, so I'm only going off what I've been hearing in the hallways. I need your help here, Jake. Did you find anything in the autopsies on those other women? It might help me with the baby in the NICU."
Jake didn't say anything for a moment. He turned his head to the side as if trying to figure out what to say. He brought his fist up under his nose and looked at her. His eyes closed for a second and then he sighed. "I don't know what to say. I don't think I can help in any way."
"Jake?"
He was quiet for a moment. "There was nothing odd about the autopsies. I mean, no strange chemical makeup or anything. I don't know. I wish I could help, but…"
"But what? You're telling me you don't know how those girls died? Come on. Of course you know. Natural causes? Is that what you're saying? How can the hospital get around that? Were the mothers healthy or not, Jake? That's all I'm asking."
"I can't…I don't…"
Kelly didn't like the evasive tone in his voice. "Jesus, Jake. What is it? What the hell is wrong? You're freaking me out." She had asked him a simple question, and he was acting like this?
He grabbed her by the hand. Out of instinct she pulled back. He held on tighter and pulled her close to him, lowering his voice to a whisper. "You have to drop this. Leave this alone, Kel."
She pulled back again, and this time he let go of her hand. "You're scaring me. What's going on?"
He put his hand to his forehead. He was visibly perspiring. "I can't talk to you about these cases. They're classified."
"Classified? Classified?! I've got a baby in my unit with a slim chance of surviving, but I certainly can't help her if I don't know what I'm up against. If you know something, you need to tell me. I will take this to the chief and the board if I have to."
He shook his head. "No. You can't do that. Please. I'm begging you to drop this. You could get hurt."
"What?" She was furious. And confused. And beyond disappointed. What the hell was wrong with him? He knew damn well she needed information from the autopsies in order to help the baby. It was his duty to tell her. This conspiratorial attitude of his was ridiculous. Not in a million years would she ever have imagined Jake acting like this. "This is insane, Jake. I'm going to save that baby's life, and you're going to help me do it. You know that's the right thing to do, rules or no rules."
He paused, breathing deeply. "OK. I'll discuss this with you. Tell you what I know. But not here. It's dangerous."
Now Kelly held his stare. She saw genuine fear in his eyes. Oh my God. He's really serious. There was something going on here, and it obviously involved the death of three pregnant women. But clearly she wasn't going to get any more information out of him here.
His assistant, Ty, tapped on the door. "Dr. Hamilton, I need a hand. Can I get some help?"
"Sure. Be right there." He looked at Kelly. "Tuscany's at seven-thirty. I really wish you would drop this. Trust me."
"I'll be there. And you should know me better than that." She walked out of his office toward the elevator, baffled by what had just taken place. Jake wasn't just afraid, he was terrified.
November 4, 2011
Chapter Three COVERT REICH
I hope everyone has a great weekend. I won't be posting chapters over the weekend, but I will be posting all next week. It looks as if the release date of COVERT REICH needs a few extra days. I don't want to put anything out to readers until I am 100% confidant it's the best book I can do. I hope you are enjoying the chapters that I have been posting. Keep in mind that I will be running a little contest next week for those who read the blog. I'll post a handful of questions from this week's blogs and the reader(s) who get the most answers correct will receive a copy of COVERT REICH.
Another reminder: A.K. Alexander books on sale for .99 for Kindle this week through Tuesday. DADDY'S HOME reached #1 in ALL Kindle book sales this past summer in the U.K. and remained in the top 10 for two months. http://www.amazon.com/Daddys-Home-ebook/dp/B004FN2B1O/ref=pd_rhf_gw_cpp_tab0_p_t_1 I hope you will give one of the books a try. My personal favorite is THE CARTEL. http://www.amazon.com/The-Cartel-ebook/dp/B004PLNH64/ref=ntt_at_ep_dpt_4
Cheers,
Michele
CHAPTER THREE
"Clear!" Brightman ordered again. Lupe gave no response.
Kelly continued to watch the fetal monitor. "Pierce, we have to get this baby out now. There are no more options left. She's gone. We're wasting time."
"Clear!" Brightman ignored her, acting as if he hadn't heard a word she'd said.
The baby's heart rate continued dropping. "Damn it, Pierce, call it or they'll both be dead!" The helpless feeling she had seconds before was replaced with anger. Adrenaline coursed through her and lit every nerve on edge. Screw this guy!
"I'll call it when I'm goddamn ready!" Brightman shouted.
She was hit by a surreal of out-of-body moment where she felt oddly detached from the scene unfolding in front of her—white walls, blue curtains, silver instruments, dead mother, dying infant, a frantic medical staff trying to fix the situation. Dr. Brightman was good. Kelly knew this. But she could see he was fighting a losing battle, and she hadn't lost hers yet. She could save the baby if he would let her.
"Get the hell out of my way, Brightman, and call this patient's time of death, or I will be the first in line to file a law suit against you."
Brightman looked at her, took survey of the room, and then stared down at the girl on the gurney. Three seconds later he glanced at the clock and wiped his forehead with the back of his arm. "Time of death, sixteen hundred hours. The baby is all yours, Dr. Morales. And good luck." He swore under his breath and slipped away behind one of the curtains, off to file his report.
The charge nurse from labor and delivery and the two nurses from the neo-natal intensive care unit waited for the Kelly's next call. With their help, she went to work with quick and determined efficiency. "Sponge," she said and wiped down the mother's stomach with a mixture of alcohol and iodine. "Scalpel." With proficient hands, she opened up Lupe's abdomen, retrieving the baby within minutes. A girl. The doctor suctioned the infant's mouth and nose clear.
The tiny infant resembled an extraterrestrial being, with her transparent skin and spindly limbs. A nurse placed the baby on a radiant warmer. Three others gathered around, gently drying her with warm towels. "Let's get a heel stick stat and into the incubator immediately," Kelly said. "This one is going to need to oxygen, among other things, I'm sure. Get her weight and length. What do we have?" She noted the baby's weight on the scale as a nurse took the blood sample and hurried off. "3.2 pounds and 16.53 inches. She's a little one."
Kelly took the baby's APGAR score to check how well she was doing after her traumatic birth. The score rated the infant's breathing, heart rate, muscle tone, reflexes, and skin color. At only four, it was not good. She'd take it again in a few minutes to see if things improved.
Kelly and Eric Sorensen, the NICU nurse in charge, transferred the baby to the intensive care nursery. As they rolled the warmer down the hospital hallway, a lab technician came running after them. "I have the mom's initial blood work back. Here you go."
Kelly took the reports. "Thank you.." Once inside the unit, the baby was placed inside an incubator, likely her home for the next several days, if not longer. Eric began hooking up the monitors and leads onto the infant. There was a lot to be done: blood gas, chest x-ray, continuous cardiorespiratory monitoring, feeding tube…and a lot to watch for: apnea, anemia, jaundice, respiratory distress, underdeveloped lungs, infection. The list was endless. But Kelly could tackle all of that. She took a step back and opened the mom's file, figuring she would find Lupe had some kind of drug in her system. What else could explain the scene back in the ER? The more Kelly knew, the better she could help the baby.
"I don't believe it," she muttered, shaking her head.
"What?" Eric asked, glancing over at her.
"Inconclusive for any kind of narcotics or alcohol. Nothing apparent in the mother's system to indicate she was using." She shrugged. "According to these preliminary reports they are inconclusive as to whether she was using any drug, legal or illegal, in her system. I was so sure. I mean, I have no idea what happened on that table in there. Obviously we have to wait for an autopsy report, but I don't know what to think. These test results say we are probably dealing with a perfectly healthy sixteen-year-old girl who, for no explicable reason, completely crashed on us."
"I don't know what to say, but I need some help here, Doc. I'm having a hard time getting this IV started on her," Eric said.
Kelly focused back on the baby, scanning her body. The poor thing let out a fragile cry, similar to a puppy's whimper, as Kelly found a vein on the top of her head and inserted the tiny catheter. God, please help me save her.
The baby girl was hooked up to numerous monitoring sensors in order to regulate heat, oxygen, and carbon monoxide levels as well as her heart and breathing rates. "Okay, I'll get the tube in, and then let's get this little one a dose of surfactant," Kelly told Eric. The baby's underdeveloped lungs hadn't had enough time to produce their own surfactant, but thank God Kelly could give it to her. Machines and drugs could do pretty damn well, sometimes almost as well as a mother's own uterus.
Kelly expertly threaded a tube through the baby's nose, down the back of her throat, and into her trachea. Eric then connected the tube to the respirator and started the machine, regulating the flow of air, oxygen, and air pressure in and out of the lungs. "Thank you," Kelly said to Eric, who smiled back at her.
He had a great smile—perfect white teeth and dimples to boot. His grey-blue eyes matched the surgical gowns he wore. His black hair and superb physique caused many women to take second and third looks because the guy could easily have been a Calvin Klein underwear model. It was a shame he was gay. At least for all of those swooning women, anyway.
Eric was fairly private about his sexual preference. The only reason Kelly even knew was because of an embarrassing incident that had occurred at last year's holiday party. Kelly had gotten a bit smashed and made a complete fool out of herself, telling Eric how hot he was, etc, etc. Frankly, this was pretty out of character for her, but after too many frozen margaritas... And then he'd told her he was gay, and she was mortified. When Monday rolled around, she could hardly look him in the eye.
At lunch time he'd sweetly taken her by the hand and said, "C'mon, Doc, let's get something to eat."
Over turkey sandwiches and Diet Cokes, she tried to apologize.
"For what? Are you serious?! First of all, I am flattered." He leaned in closer, flashing his adorable smile. "Second, if I wasn't gay, I'd do you in a heartbeat. I actually gave it some serious thought the other night. You looked good enough to eat in that red dress and I momentarily toyed with the idea of giving it a try. Maybe you could have converted me." He'd winked at her, and they both burst out laughing, causing heads to turn in the cafeteria. From that day forward, their friendship was permanently cemented and they had one another's backs come hell or high water.
There is no one Kelly would rather have by her side as she tried to help this nameless baby stay alive.
"She is a very sick little girl, isn't she, Doc?" Eric asked, placing soft cotton bandages over the infant's eyes, shielding her from the Bilirubin lights.
Kelly nodded. "I'm going to do my damndest to see she makes it. Right now, I'm just concerned with stabilizing her." She frowned. "I don't know what to think with the reports. From everything I saw in that ER room and seeing how sick this baby is, I would have assumed there were narcotics involved. I would expect to see some withdrawal signs in this one's early weeks, but…well, now I don't know."
"Huh."
"What?" Kelly asked.
"You heard about the other cases from last week, right?" Eric asked. They happened while you were off."
Kelly frowned. "I had heard that a couple of maternity patients passed away, but haven't had much of a chance to get the full scoop. What happened?"
"I worked both cases. I mean our team was called in for the infant but neither baby survived. They were stillborn. They had heartbeats on them up until a few moments before delivery, but once the mothers died there wasn't enough time to save them," Eric replied.
"Who were the attending OB's and who was on for NICU those days?"
"Dr. Pearson was on both of the cases for NICU. Brightman was the attending OB for both as well." Eric shrugged as he adjusted an IV. "It seems a little weird. Kind of coincidental, don't you think?"
"I hear you. I think I'll track Pearson down and see if he can enlighten me a bit. Something tells me that Brightman may not want to talk to me for awhile after our little showdown in the ER."
"You may have to wait a while to speak with Dr. Pearson. I heard he left on vacation the day after the second baby died. Rumor is he was pretty distraught. He may have even been forced by the chief to take some time off while all of this was looked at. Someone said he took off for the Mediterranean."
Kelly sighed. "Interesting…I suppose I could go and see what I might be able to pry from Brightman about the mothers and now what he thinks about this latest patient. He has to think it's strange as well. God, but I really don't know if I want to deal with him. Maybe I'll go down and see Hamilton instead," she said, referring to the chief pathologist and the only other man in the hospital corridors besides Eric to catch her attention. "Maybe he has some ideas. He can at least tell me what he found in those other women's autopsies."
"He might. Not a bad idea. But before you go, why don't you take a load off and rest some? You look beat. What time is your shift over?"
"God, I don't know." Kelly ran her hands through her hair. "I don't think I care anymore. I feel like I live here. Any time off I typically spend sleeping."
"You need a life," Eric said.
"I probably do." She wiped the perspiration from her forehead.
"Go grab something to drink, take a few. I've got things here. I think she's as stable as we are going to get her for now. I'll page you if I need you."
Kelly scrunched up her nose and shook her head. "Mhhm, I don't know. I don't want to leave her yet."
"You can't keep twenty-four hour vigil, Doc. Get a cup of coffee, think, and breathe for a minute. Regroup and come back. You can't go very far, so if something goes wrong, I'll have your ass back here in minutes. I insist." Eric crossed his arms and gave her one of his no-nonsense looks. He'd make an awesome parent. He had the expression down pat.
"Fine. But page me if anything happens. I don't care how minor. I mean, even if her lead comes off, page me. Promise?"
"Cross my heart."
Eric was right to send her away. A lot of what they called "the waiting game" was starting now. There would likely be many stressful, difficult moments before they could envision a healthy future for Baby Salazar, and Kelly simply couldn't be here for every single second. She needed to take a break and recharge to keep her head clear in case something else went wrong.
Kelly walked out the double doors of the NICU and stopped in front of the elevator. She decided to head down to the morgue first to see if she could speak with Dr. Hamilton. Curiosity had gotten the best of her, and her instincts screamed there was something peculiar about Lupe's death.
The doors to the elevator opened, and she stepped inside. Kelly took her hair out of its elastic band, ran her fingers through, and pulled it back again, hoping she looked somewhat presentable. A quick glance in the mirrored button panel told her she looked like hell. Sleep was in order. When was the last time she'd had a good night's sleep? Even when she had time for sleep, Kelly had a tough time turning her brain off. In the scheme of things, sleep didn't matter as much as the lives of her little patients. Sleep could wait. What she really wanted right now were some answers.
Another reminder: A.K. Alexander books on sale for .99 for Kindle this week through Tuesday. DADDY'S HOME reached #1 in ALL Kindle book sales this past summer in the U.K. and remained in the top 10 for two months. http://www.amazon.com/Daddys-Home-ebook/dp/B004FN2B1O/ref=pd_rhf_gw_cpp_tab0_p_t_1 I hope you will give one of the books a try. My personal favorite is THE CARTEL. http://www.amazon.com/The-Cartel-ebook/dp/B004PLNH64/ref=ntt_at_ep_dpt_4
Cheers,
Michele
CHAPTER THREE
"Clear!" Brightman ordered again. Lupe gave no response.
Kelly continued to watch the fetal monitor. "Pierce, we have to get this baby out now. There are no more options left. She's gone. We're wasting time."
"Clear!" Brightman ignored her, acting as if he hadn't heard a word she'd said.
The baby's heart rate continued dropping. "Damn it, Pierce, call it or they'll both be dead!" The helpless feeling she had seconds before was replaced with anger. Adrenaline coursed through her and lit every nerve on edge. Screw this guy!
"I'll call it when I'm goddamn ready!" Brightman shouted.
She was hit by a surreal of out-of-body moment where she felt oddly detached from the scene unfolding in front of her—white walls, blue curtains, silver instruments, dead mother, dying infant, a frantic medical staff trying to fix the situation. Dr. Brightman was good. Kelly knew this. But she could see he was fighting a losing battle, and she hadn't lost hers yet. She could save the baby if he would let her.
"Get the hell out of my way, Brightman, and call this patient's time of death, or I will be the first in line to file a law suit against you."
Brightman looked at her, took survey of the room, and then stared down at the girl on the gurney. Three seconds later he glanced at the clock and wiped his forehead with the back of his arm. "Time of death, sixteen hundred hours. The baby is all yours, Dr. Morales. And good luck." He swore under his breath and slipped away behind one of the curtains, off to file his report.
The charge nurse from labor and delivery and the two nurses from the neo-natal intensive care unit waited for the Kelly's next call. With their help, she went to work with quick and determined efficiency. "Sponge," she said and wiped down the mother's stomach with a mixture of alcohol and iodine. "Scalpel." With proficient hands, she opened up Lupe's abdomen, retrieving the baby within minutes. A girl. The doctor suctioned the infant's mouth and nose clear.
The tiny infant resembled an extraterrestrial being, with her transparent skin and spindly limbs. A nurse placed the baby on a radiant warmer. Three others gathered around, gently drying her with warm towels. "Let's get a heel stick stat and into the incubator immediately," Kelly said. "This one is going to need to oxygen, among other things, I'm sure. Get her weight and length. What do we have?" She noted the baby's weight on the scale as a nurse took the blood sample and hurried off. "3.2 pounds and 16.53 inches. She's a little one."
Kelly took the baby's APGAR score to check how well she was doing after her traumatic birth. The score rated the infant's breathing, heart rate, muscle tone, reflexes, and skin color. At only four, it was not good. She'd take it again in a few minutes to see if things improved.
Kelly and Eric Sorensen, the NICU nurse in charge, transferred the baby to the intensive care nursery. As they rolled the warmer down the hospital hallway, a lab technician came running after them. "I have the mom's initial blood work back. Here you go."
Kelly took the reports. "Thank you.." Once inside the unit, the baby was placed inside an incubator, likely her home for the next several days, if not longer. Eric began hooking up the monitors and leads onto the infant. There was a lot to be done: blood gas, chest x-ray, continuous cardiorespiratory monitoring, feeding tube…and a lot to watch for: apnea, anemia, jaundice, respiratory distress, underdeveloped lungs, infection. The list was endless. But Kelly could tackle all of that. She took a step back and opened the mom's file, figuring she would find Lupe had some kind of drug in her system. What else could explain the scene back in the ER? The more Kelly knew, the better she could help the baby.
"I don't believe it," she muttered, shaking her head.
"What?" Eric asked, glancing over at her.
"Inconclusive for any kind of narcotics or alcohol. Nothing apparent in the mother's system to indicate she was using." She shrugged. "According to these preliminary reports they are inconclusive as to whether she was using any drug, legal or illegal, in her system. I was so sure. I mean, I have no idea what happened on that table in there. Obviously we have to wait for an autopsy report, but I don't know what to think. These test results say we are probably dealing with a perfectly healthy sixteen-year-old girl who, for no explicable reason, completely crashed on us."
"I don't know what to say, but I need some help here, Doc. I'm having a hard time getting this IV started on her," Eric said.
Kelly focused back on the baby, scanning her body. The poor thing let out a fragile cry, similar to a puppy's whimper, as Kelly found a vein on the top of her head and inserted the tiny catheter. God, please help me save her.
The baby girl was hooked up to numerous monitoring sensors in order to regulate heat, oxygen, and carbon monoxide levels as well as her heart and breathing rates. "Okay, I'll get the tube in, and then let's get this little one a dose of surfactant," Kelly told Eric. The baby's underdeveloped lungs hadn't had enough time to produce their own surfactant, but thank God Kelly could give it to her. Machines and drugs could do pretty damn well, sometimes almost as well as a mother's own uterus.
Kelly expertly threaded a tube through the baby's nose, down the back of her throat, and into her trachea. Eric then connected the tube to the respirator and started the machine, regulating the flow of air, oxygen, and air pressure in and out of the lungs. "Thank you," Kelly said to Eric, who smiled back at her.
He had a great smile—perfect white teeth and dimples to boot. His grey-blue eyes matched the surgical gowns he wore. His black hair and superb physique caused many women to take second and third looks because the guy could easily have been a Calvin Klein underwear model. It was a shame he was gay. At least for all of those swooning women, anyway.
Eric was fairly private about his sexual preference. The only reason Kelly even knew was because of an embarrassing incident that had occurred at last year's holiday party. Kelly had gotten a bit smashed and made a complete fool out of herself, telling Eric how hot he was, etc, etc. Frankly, this was pretty out of character for her, but after too many frozen margaritas... And then he'd told her he was gay, and she was mortified. When Monday rolled around, she could hardly look him in the eye.
At lunch time he'd sweetly taken her by the hand and said, "C'mon, Doc, let's get something to eat."
Over turkey sandwiches and Diet Cokes, she tried to apologize.
"For what? Are you serious?! First of all, I am flattered." He leaned in closer, flashing his adorable smile. "Second, if I wasn't gay, I'd do you in a heartbeat. I actually gave it some serious thought the other night. You looked good enough to eat in that red dress and I momentarily toyed with the idea of giving it a try. Maybe you could have converted me." He'd winked at her, and they both burst out laughing, causing heads to turn in the cafeteria. From that day forward, their friendship was permanently cemented and they had one another's backs come hell or high water.
There is no one Kelly would rather have by her side as she tried to help this nameless baby stay alive.
"She is a very sick little girl, isn't she, Doc?" Eric asked, placing soft cotton bandages over the infant's eyes, shielding her from the Bilirubin lights.
Kelly nodded. "I'm going to do my damndest to see she makes it. Right now, I'm just concerned with stabilizing her." She frowned. "I don't know what to think with the reports. From everything I saw in that ER room and seeing how sick this baby is, I would have assumed there were narcotics involved. I would expect to see some withdrawal signs in this one's early weeks, but…well, now I don't know."
"Huh."
"What?" Kelly asked.
"You heard about the other cases from last week, right?" Eric asked. They happened while you were off."
Kelly frowned. "I had heard that a couple of maternity patients passed away, but haven't had much of a chance to get the full scoop. What happened?"
"I worked both cases. I mean our team was called in for the infant but neither baby survived. They were stillborn. They had heartbeats on them up until a few moments before delivery, but once the mothers died there wasn't enough time to save them," Eric replied.
"Who were the attending OB's and who was on for NICU those days?"
"Dr. Pearson was on both of the cases for NICU. Brightman was the attending OB for both as well." Eric shrugged as he adjusted an IV. "It seems a little weird. Kind of coincidental, don't you think?"
"I hear you. I think I'll track Pearson down and see if he can enlighten me a bit. Something tells me that Brightman may not want to talk to me for awhile after our little showdown in the ER."
"You may have to wait a while to speak with Dr. Pearson. I heard he left on vacation the day after the second baby died. Rumor is he was pretty distraught. He may have even been forced by the chief to take some time off while all of this was looked at. Someone said he took off for the Mediterranean."
Kelly sighed. "Interesting…I suppose I could go and see what I might be able to pry from Brightman about the mothers and now what he thinks about this latest patient. He has to think it's strange as well. God, but I really don't know if I want to deal with him. Maybe I'll go down and see Hamilton instead," she said, referring to the chief pathologist and the only other man in the hospital corridors besides Eric to catch her attention. "Maybe he has some ideas. He can at least tell me what he found in those other women's autopsies."
"He might. Not a bad idea. But before you go, why don't you take a load off and rest some? You look beat. What time is your shift over?"
"God, I don't know." Kelly ran her hands through her hair. "I don't think I care anymore. I feel like I live here. Any time off I typically spend sleeping."
"You need a life," Eric said.
"I probably do." She wiped the perspiration from her forehead.
"Go grab something to drink, take a few. I've got things here. I think she's as stable as we are going to get her for now. I'll page you if I need you."
Kelly scrunched up her nose and shook her head. "Mhhm, I don't know. I don't want to leave her yet."
"You can't keep twenty-four hour vigil, Doc. Get a cup of coffee, think, and breathe for a minute. Regroup and come back. You can't go very far, so if something goes wrong, I'll have your ass back here in minutes. I insist." Eric crossed his arms and gave her one of his no-nonsense looks. He'd make an awesome parent. He had the expression down pat.
"Fine. But page me if anything happens. I don't care how minor. I mean, even if her lead comes off, page me. Promise?"
"Cross my heart."
Eric was right to send her away. A lot of what they called "the waiting game" was starting now. There would likely be many stressful, difficult moments before they could envision a healthy future for Baby Salazar, and Kelly simply couldn't be here for every single second. She needed to take a break and recharge to keep her head clear in case something else went wrong.
Kelly walked out the double doors of the NICU and stopped in front of the elevator. She decided to head down to the morgue first to see if she could speak with Dr. Hamilton. Curiosity had gotten the best of her, and her instincts screamed there was something peculiar about Lupe's death.
The doors to the elevator opened, and she stepped inside. Kelly took her hair out of its elastic band, ran her fingers through, and pulled it back again, hoping she looked somewhat presentable. A quick glance in the mirrored button panel told her she looked like hell. Sleep was in order. When was the last time she'd had a good night's sleep? Even when she had time for sleep, Kelly had a tough time turning her brain off. In the scheme of things, sleep didn't matter as much as the lives of her little patients. Sleep could wait. What she really wanted right now were some answers.
November 3, 2011
Chapter Two of COVERT REICH
Last Day in the "cages" Today is a big day in my world. For readers who follow the blog, my oldest son is having his second surgery today. He is currently in surgery now for the next three hours, so to keep me from going out of my mind with worry (cause that is what Mom's do) I am at my laptop in the waiting room doing some writing. The good news is though that Alex will be up and walking again in about a month! This surgery is not as intense as the first one. However, I am always open to a little prayer, good vibes, and positive energy.
I will be posting a chapter daily of COVERT REICH until it is released next week. I hope you enjoy it. It is interesting that this second chapter is about a baby who needs to be placed into the NICU. When Alex was born he spent a couple of weeks there (as mentioned in a previous post). The kid has always been a fighter, so I have all the faith in the world that he will be just fine.
Here we go with chapter two. Also keep in mind that for one week only, all of the A.K. Alexander thrillers are on sale for your kindle for .99!
Have a great day and happy reading.
Cheers,
Michele
CHAPTER TWO
A shrill whistle rang out from the fetal heart monitor as the baby's heart rate plummeted. The emergency room staff flew into an organized chaos with rubber gloves sliding over doctors' hands, instruments exchanging sterility for human flesh, and various orders voiced loudly above the other noise.
"Let's go! Let's go! He's crashing. Baby is crashing!" Dr. Kelly Morales yelled. "Watch out for Mom."
"She scratched me!" a nurse cried out, while placing an oxygen mask over the teenager's face. The sixteen-year-old thrashed wildly, her arms outstretched. Each fingernail was over an inch long, curving at the end and polished with a skull and crossbones motif. The girl moaned in pain. Or maybe panic or protest. Likely a combination of the three. She was involuntarily doing everything she could to keep the medical staff from doing their jobs. At least she had some fight in her. The only positive sign so far.
"Someone get her arms!" another nurse yelled.
Kelly saw a window and took it. She pinned the girl's arms down and bent directly over her face, looking into a pair of panicked brown eyes. Jesus, what was going on with this kid!? Kelly didn't really want to know. She witnessed enough tragedy every day inside the Neo-Natal Intensive Care Untit. But at least in her protected NICU bubble she could make a difference. She'd been the available doctor when Lupe Salazar arrived at the hospital, and so here she was. A sixteen-year-old in severe distress was not Kelly's specialty. Babies were easier.
Kelly bent over the girl, her face within inches of the teen's. The girl's eyes widened, clearly surprised at the lithe doctor's strength. Dr. Morales lowered her voice to a calm whisper. "Listen to me, Lupe. I want to help you. I need to know if you've taken anything. Any alcohol or drugs?"
Lupe focused. She shook her head. "I don't do drugs!"
"I won't be angry. I just need to know."
"No," the teen managed to say. "I promise. Nothing. Let me go!"
"I can't. You need to stay calm and listen. Have you been getting regular prenatal care?"
Lupe nodded, crying loudly now.
"Have you had any problems with this pregnancy? Anything your doctors mentioned? High-blood pressure? Any bleeding?"
"Nothing," Lupe sobbed. "Everything's been fine. It hurts so much. Make it stop. Just make it stop!"
Witnessing pain was always tough. Kelly hated this part of the job. Despite her skill and ability to keep her emotions in check, watching this girl suffer was not easy. Particularly because Kelly was no closer to figuring out what in the world was going on. So far, Lupe was a medical mystery. And where the hell was Dr. Brightman? He was the head of O.B., and she needed him now.
Kelly lifted her head. A nurse wiped it with a towel. The girl started to struggle again, pushing forcefully against Kelly's tight grip. "Ten ccs of epi, stat!" Kelly fought back an exhausted sigh. This was too much. Whatever had landed her on the ER table was serious. She was losing her grip on Lupe when suddenly the girl's eyes rolled back into their sockets.
"Pressure is dropping!" the intern reading vitals called out.
Kelly glanced up at the crew around her…a look that lasted a mere second.
The girl on the gurney started to shake and writhe.
"Seizure."
The air around them was dense and still, the way it gets when the threat of death enters the room. Kelly understood the stakes and implications in a second. She had been in this situation too many times to count. Her vision narrowed, sounds faded, and everything extraneous drained from her mind. The analysis and course of action took only seconds. Because seconds are all you get when a life is on the line.
It was time to make a tough call. Kelly braced herself.
But before she could say or do anything, Lupe's body went still. A monotone buzzing echoed through the room.
The girl was flat-lining.
"Goddamn it!" Kelly yelled.
Dr. Gary Brightman pulled back the curtain. He was tall, slender, and handsome in a surfer sort of way. He didn't really look like a doctor (but he could have easily played one on TV). Kelly had never been so happy to see anyone.
"What the hell is going on?" His normally relaxed face was drawn up in a tense frown.
"I don't know! Normal pregnancy, from what I can tell. Pressure is dropping. Baby is crashing. Now we've got flat-line." Kelly glanced at the monitor. Dr. Brightman saw the screen. Heard the tone. Everyone did. "We don't have many options here, Pierce. We're losing both of them. The baby is thirty-two weeks, and I can probably save it."
Code Blue in ER number three! The intercom crackled to life as more nurses and techs scurried into the room.
"Epinephrine," Brightman ordered. He administered the drug, trying to raise Lupe's blood pressure. There was no response. "More epi! Give me more epi!"
The team hooked up the defibrillators and applied CPR.
"Clear!" The harsh popping sound echoed in Kelly's ears. The baby was dying inside the young woman. The infant couldn't take much more. Lupe didn't have a prayer unless a miracle occurred. Kelly knew it in her gut.
And tonight her gut told her before the night was through, the poor sixteen-year-old lying on the gurney—a child herself still—would be lying in the morgue.
Last Day in the "cages" Today is a big day in my world. For readers who follow the blog, my oldest son is having his second surgery today. He is currently in surgery now for the next three hours, so to keep me from going out of my mind with worry (cause that is what Mom's do) I am at my laptop in the waiting room doing some writing. The good news is though that Alex will be up and walking again in about a month! This surgery is not as intense as the first one. However, I am always open to a little prayer, good vibes, and positive energy.I will be posting a chapter daily of COVERT REICH until it is released next week. I hope you enjoy it. It is interesting that this second chapter is about a baby who needs to be placed into the NICU. When Alex was born he spent a couple of weeks there (as mentioned in a previous post). The kid has always been a fighter, so I have all the faith in the world that he will be just fine.
Here we go with chapter two. Also keep in mind that for one week only, all of the A.K. Alexander thrillers are on sale for your kindle for .99!
Have a great day and happy reading.
Cheers,
Michele
CHAPTER TWO
A shrill whistle rang out from the fetal heart monitor as the baby's heart rate plummeted. The emergency room staff flew into an organized chaos with rubber gloves sliding over doctors' hands, instruments exchanging sterility for human flesh, and various orders voiced loudly above the other noise.
"Let's go! Let's go! He's crashing. Baby is crashing!" Dr. Kelly Morales yelled. "Watch out for Mom."
"She scratched me!" a nurse cried out, while placing an oxygen mask over the teenager's face. The sixteen-year-old thrashed wildly, her arms outstretched. Each fingernail was over an inch long, curving at the end and polished with a skull and crossbones motif. The girl moaned in pain. Or maybe panic or protest. Likely a combination of the three. She was involuntarily doing everything she could to keep the medical staff from doing their jobs. At least she had some fight in her. The only positive sign so far.
"Someone get her arms!" another nurse yelled.
Kelly saw a window and took it. She pinned the girl's arms down and bent directly over her face, looking into a pair of panicked brown eyes. Jesus, what was going on with this kid!? Kelly didn't really want to know. She witnessed enough tragedy every day inside the Neo-Natal Intensive Care Untit. But at least in her protected NICU bubble she could make a difference. She'd been the available doctor when Lupe Salazar arrived at the hospital, and so here she was. A sixteen-year-old in severe distress was not Kelly's specialty. Babies were easier.
Kelly bent over the girl, her face within inches of the teen's. The girl's eyes widened, clearly surprised at the lithe doctor's strength. Dr. Morales lowered her voice to a calm whisper. "Listen to me, Lupe. I want to help you. I need to know if you've taken anything. Any alcohol or drugs?"
Lupe focused. She shook her head. "I don't do drugs!"
"I won't be angry. I just need to know."
"No," the teen managed to say. "I promise. Nothing. Let me go!"
"I can't. You need to stay calm and listen. Have you been getting regular prenatal care?"
Lupe nodded, crying loudly now.
"Have you had any problems with this pregnancy? Anything your doctors mentioned? High-blood pressure? Any bleeding?"
"Nothing," Lupe sobbed. "Everything's been fine. It hurts so much. Make it stop. Just make it stop!"
Witnessing pain was always tough. Kelly hated this part of the job. Despite her skill and ability to keep her emotions in check, watching this girl suffer was not easy. Particularly because Kelly was no closer to figuring out what in the world was going on. So far, Lupe was a medical mystery. And where the hell was Dr. Brightman? He was the head of O.B., and she needed him now.
Kelly lifted her head. A nurse wiped it with a towel. The girl started to struggle again, pushing forcefully against Kelly's tight grip. "Ten ccs of epi, stat!" Kelly fought back an exhausted sigh. This was too much. Whatever had landed her on the ER table was serious. She was losing her grip on Lupe when suddenly the girl's eyes rolled back into their sockets.
"Pressure is dropping!" the intern reading vitals called out.
Kelly glanced up at the crew around her…a look that lasted a mere second.
The girl on the gurney started to shake and writhe.
"Seizure."
The air around them was dense and still, the way it gets when the threat of death enters the room. Kelly understood the stakes and implications in a second. She had been in this situation too many times to count. Her vision narrowed, sounds faded, and everything extraneous drained from her mind. The analysis and course of action took only seconds. Because seconds are all you get when a life is on the line.
It was time to make a tough call. Kelly braced herself.
But before she could say or do anything, Lupe's body went still. A monotone buzzing echoed through the room.
The girl was flat-lining.
"Goddamn it!" Kelly yelled.
Dr. Gary Brightman pulled back the curtain. He was tall, slender, and handsome in a surfer sort of way. He didn't really look like a doctor (but he could have easily played one on TV). Kelly had never been so happy to see anyone.
"What the hell is going on?" His normally relaxed face was drawn up in a tense frown.
"I don't know! Normal pregnancy, from what I can tell. Pressure is dropping. Baby is crashing. Now we've got flat-line." Kelly glanced at the monitor. Dr. Brightman saw the screen. Heard the tone. Everyone did. "We don't have many options here, Pierce. We're losing both of them. The baby is thirty-two weeks, and I can probably save it."
Code Blue in ER number three! The intercom crackled to life as more nurses and techs scurried into the room.
"Epinephrine," Brightman ordered. He administered the drug, trying to raise Lupe's blood pressure. There was no response. "More epi! Give me more epi!"
The team hooked up the defibrillators and applied CPR.
"Clear!" The harsh popping sound echoed in Kelly's ears. The baby was dying inside the young woman. The infant couldn't take much more. Lupe didn't have a prayer unless a miracle occurred. Kelly knew it in her gut.
And tonight her gut told her before the night was through, the poor sixteen-year-old lying on the gurney—a child herself still—would be lying in the morgue.
November 2, 2011
First Chapter COVERT REICH
Here you go my friends: Chapter One of COVERT REICH
WARNING: This is one of those thrillers where bad words are used (frequently). There are a lot of people who get killed (some violently), and there is even some sexual content. If this were turned into a movie it would most certainly be Rated R. This first scene in particular is pretty disturbing. Therefore, if you like a Michele Scott book where there is some light swearing, murder off the page, and a bit of sexual innuendo here and there then this A.K. Alexander thriller may not be for you. As the author of both "brands" keep in mind they are two different types of books. That "said," read on if still interested and remember the book is out November 8th. Sign up for the newsletter that comes out on the same day and you might win something good. On another quick note: ALL A.K. ALEXANDER THRILLERS ARE ON SALE FOR ONE WEEK ONLY FOR 99 CENTS FOR THE KINDLE! IF YOU HAVEN'T TRIED ONE, NOW WOULD BE A GOOD TIME TO DO SO.
Cheers,Michele(AKA)A.K. Alexander
Chapter One
Press it. Just fucking press it! Sweat beaded Ryan Horner's forehead as he stared at the computer screen. His next move could…no…would impact hundreds of thousands of lives. And his family. And him.
He lifted his right hand off the mouse and took a deep breath. Images of his beautiful wife, Jeanine, their twin girls, Chloe and Taylor, and his gated home in Blankenese, Germany darted through his head. He thought about his mom and dad back in the States, finally living the life of luxury they so deserved—a life he'd been able to provide them. But at what cost?
The sweat trickled down past his temples. Ryan put his finger on the mouse, closed his eyes, and clicked "send". He felt instantly sick to his stomach and dropped his head into his hands. What had he done? What the hell had he just done?! God, oh God, oh God.
After another deep breath and a quick glance to ensure he wasn't being watched, Ryan stood, gathered his things, and walked as casually as he could out of the internet café towards his car. He'd driven for over two hours to find this remote spot where he could safely and anonymously send the email. He opened the door to his sleek Audi, stepped in, and started the engine. Once on the Autobahn, he allowed himself to relax slightly and his thoughts drifted back to that fateful day three years ago in San Diego. It felt like a lifetime ago, but it wasn't and the date was etched into his memory—October 22, 2008.
"Dr. Horner?" Ryan had just reached his SUV after a long lunch at his favorite café, Chez Loma. He was tired and not in the mood for conversation. He looked at the man who called his name. He didn't recognize him. That should have been his first clue.
"Dr. Ryan Horner?" the man asked again. He was tall, lean, in his early thirties with light brown hair, fair skin, and icy blue eyes. He also spoke with some kind of accent. Ryan thought it was German.
"Yes. I'm sorry, do I know you?"
The man came closer, stuck out his hand. He wore what appeared to be an expensive grey suit and silk tie. "My name is Frederick Färber, and I'd like to speak with you about the Petersens."
"The Petersens?" Ryan was instantly uneasy. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, fiddling with his car keys. "Who are you? I told the police what I knew and honestly, it wasn't much."
"I understand. But I need to speak with you about them. Please come with me."
"No." Ryan shook his head and opened the car door. "I have nothing further to say about the case and I need to get back to work."
"You don't work for Centurion Pharmaceuticals any longer. And as I said, you need to come with me."
Ryan turned back to face the stranger. "Excuse me?" Suddenly he was grabbed roughly from behind. Someone was inside his car, waiting to grab him while the asshole outside kept him distracted. He felt a sharp jab to his right shoulder—a needle—and then he was shoved into the back seat. The rest was a blur until he woke up. He wished he'd never woken up.
Now all he could think was he'd made a huge mistake sending the email. They paid him well. Gave him shit. Lots of good shit. This car for one thing.
What if he drove into the guard rail? Let the car bounce off? Spin him, round and round until he died on impact? What if? But they would know…
They would know he had made the decision to die.
And his family would suffer as a result.
He prayed to God they didn't know he had sent the email to the journalist in Los Angeles. He prayed to a God he wasn't sure he believed in any more that the journalist would read between the lines. Spur an investigation. Research what had happened three years ago and, most importantly, start paying closer attention to her neighbor.
And then what? Then what!? You fucking idiot! He slammed the palms of his hands against the steering wheel. Tears streamed down his face as he recalled the faces on the video they had showed him. The blood. The torture.
The tears blurred his vision and he kept wiping them away, wishing he could clear the memories just as easily. Wishing he could vanish. Or die.
But they had him.
Had him trapped in hell, because of what they had shown him and what they would do to his family if he took the cowardly way out—or worse—told anyone about their plans.
The agony on the faces of the Petersens in that video—from Bren who was only six-years old and had made silly faces with Ryan's then two-year old twins, to their father, Andrew, who from the brief time Ryan had spent with him seemed like a good guy. It didn't matter because good or bad, no one deserved what had been done to Andrew and his family. They had bound them. Raped Selena in front of her husband and children. God, Selena. She had been so sweet when they had moved from New Jersey to San Diego. She had brought his wife Jeanine into her fold of friends. They'd gone to yoga together and went for morning coffees. Jeanine had known Selena better than Ryan knew Andrew. The guys were simply colleagues, but the women bonded at a work picnic. Jeanine had been devastated when they were murdered.
Selena's silent tears were what always popped into Ryan's mind. She'd been brave and didn't want the children to hear her pain, although it wasn't easy to hide. Ryan had seen the horror in their faces. And their father had been purple with pain and rage, tears sliding down his face. All because he had said, "No." All because he had not believed in what they represented and they're threats. He had thought it was a joke.
After murdering Selena, the men slit the throats of all four children in front of their father. Ryan could see in Andrew's eyes how badly he'd wanted to die then—any way they could put him out of his misery, he would have gladly accepted. But they tortured him first. And now, Ryan understood why. It had all been for his benefit. The group who referred to themselves as The Brotherhood needed to be certain there was no way in hell Ryan would refuse them. They had forced him to watch the video. Gun to his head. Wrists and feet bound. A gag in his mouth. No, he could not refuse their offer. But then it wasn't really an offer, was it? Because offers can always be turned down.
The men put a bullet in every non-fatal place possible in Andrew's body, until finally they shot him through his stomach and allowed him to bleed to death. All because Andrew was a chemist, like himself—and because Andrew Petersen had said, "No."
Ryan reprimanded himself again for sending the e-mail. But if there was still a God—the One he had believed in growing up, the One his parents had told him about and he learned about in church—if that God existed, sending the email, no matter the consequences to him and to his family, had been the right thing to do. Because as horrific as The Brotherhood had been to the Petersens, their plans for humanity were even worse.
WARNING: This is one of those thrillers where bad words are used (frequently). There are a lot of people who get killed (some violently), and there is even some sexual content. If this were turned into a movie it would most certainly be Rated R. This first scene in particular is pretty disturbing. Therefore, if you like a Michele Scott book where there is some light swearing, murder off the page, and a bit of sexual innuendo here and there then this A.K. Alexander thriller may not be for you. As the author of both "brands" keep in mind they are two different types of books. That "said," read on if still interested and remember the book is out November 8th. Sign up for the newsletter that comes out on the same day and you might win something good. On another quick note: ALL A.K. ALEXANDER THRILLERS ARE ON SALE FOR ONE WEEK ONLY FOR 99 CENTS FOR THE KINDLE! IF YOU HAVEN'T TRIED ONE, NOW WOULD BE A GOOD TIME TO DO SO.Cheers,Michele(AKA)A.K. Alexander
Chapter One
Press it. Just fucking press it! Sweat beaded Ryan Horner's forehead as he stared at the computer screen. His next move could…no…would impact hundreds of thousands of lives. And his family. And him.
He lifted his right hand off the mouse and took a deep breath. Images of his beautiful wife, Jeanine, their twin girls, Chloe and Taylor, and his gated home in Blankenese, Germany darted through his head. He thought about his mom and dad back in the States, finally living the life of luxury they so deserved—a life he'd been able to provide them. But at what cost?
The sweat trickled down past his temples. Ryan put his finger on the mouse, closed his eyes, and clicked "send". He felt instantly sick to his stomach and dropped his head into his hands. What had he done? What the hell had he just done?! God, oh God, oh God.
After another deep breath and a quick glance to ensure he wasn't being watched, Ryan stood, gathered his things, and walked as casually as he could out of the internet café towards his car. He'd driven for over two hours to find this remote spot where he could safely and anonymously send the email. He opened the door to his sleek Audi, stepped in, and started the engine. Once on the Autobahn, he allowed himself to relax slightly and his thoughts drifted back to that fateful day three years ago in San Diego. It felt like a lifetime ago, but it wasn't and the date was etched into his memory—October 22, 2008.
"Dr. Horner?" Ryan had just reached his SUV after a long lunch at his favorite café, Chez Loma. He was tired and not in the mood for conversation. He looked at the man who called his name. He didn't recognize him. That should have been his first clue.
"Dr. Ryan Horner?" the man asked again. He was tall, lean, in his early thirties with light brown hair, fair skin, and icy blue eyes. He also spoke with some kind of accent. Ryan thought it was German.
"Yes. I'm sorry, do I know you?"
The man came closer, stuck out his hand. He wore what appeared to be an expensive grey suit and silk tie. "My name is Frederick Färber, and I'd like to speak with you about the Petersens."
"The Petersens?" Ryan was instantly uneasy. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, fiddling with his car keys. "Who are you? I told the police what I knew and honestly, it wasn't much."
"I understand. But I need to speak with you about them. Please come with me."
"No." Ryan shook his head and opened the car door. "I have nothing further to say about the case and I need to get back to work."
"You don't work for Centurion Pharmaceuticals any longer. And as I said, you need to come with me."
Ryan turned back to face the stranger. "Excuse me?" Suddenly he was grabbed roughly from behind. Someone was inside his car, waiting to grab him while the asshole outside kept him distracted. He felt a sharp jab to his right shoulder—a needle—and then he was shoved into the back seat. The rest was a blur until he woke up. He wished he'd never woken up.
Now all he could think was he'd made a huge mistake sending the email. They paid him well. Gave him shit. Lots of good shit. This car for one thing.
What if he drove into the guard rail? Let the car bounce off? Spin him, round and round until he died on impact? What if? But they would know…
They would know he had made the decision to die.
And his family would suffer as a result.
He prayed to God they didn't know he had sent the email to the journalist in Los Angeles. He prayed to a God he wasn't sure he believed in any more that the journalist would read between the lines. Spur an investigation. Research what had happened three years ago and, most importantly, start paying closer attention to her neighbor.
And then what? Then what!? You fucking idiot! He slammed the palms of his hands against the steering wheel. Tears streamed down his face as he recalled the faces on the video they had showed him. The blood. The torture.
The tears blurred his vision and he kept wiping them away, wishing he could clear the memories just as easily. Wishing he could vanish. Or die.
But they had him.
Had him trapped in hell, because of what they had shown him and what they would do to his family if he took the cowardly way out—or worse—told anyone about their plans.
The agony on the faces of the Petersens in that video—from Bren who was only six-years old and had made silly faces with Ryan's then two-year old twins, to their father, Andrew, who from the brief time Ryan had spent with him seemed like a good guy. It didn't matter because good or bad, no one deserved what had been done to Andrew and his family. They had bound them. Raped Selena in front of her husband and children. God, Selena. She had been so sweet when they had moved from New Jersey to San Diego. She had brought his wife Jeanine into her fold of friends. They'd gone to yoga together and went for morning coffees. Jeanine had known Selena better than Ryan knew Andrew. The guys were simply colleagues, but the women bonded at a work picnic. Jeanine had been devastated when they were murdered.
Selena's silent tears were what always popped into Ryan's mind. She'd been brave and didn't want the children to hear her pain, although it wasn't easy to hide. Ryan had seen the horror in their faces. And their father had been purple with pain and rage, tears sliding down his face. All because he had said, "No." All because he had not believed in what they represented and they're threats. He had thought it was a joke.
After murdering Selena, the men slit the throats of all four children in front of their father. Ryan could see in Andrew's eyes how badly he'd wanted to die then—any way they could put him out of his misery, he would have gladly accepted. But they tortured him first. And now, Ryan understood why. It had all been for his benefit. The group who referred to themselves as The Brotherhood needed to be certain there was no way in hell Ryan would refuse them. They had forced him to watch the video. Gun to his head. Wrists and feet bound. A gag in his mouth. No, he could not refuse their offer. But then it wasn't really an offer, was it? Because offers can always be turned down.
The men put a bullet in every non-fatal place possible in Andrew's body, until finally they shot him through his stomach and allowed him to bleed to death. All because Andrew was a chemist, like himself—and because Andrew Petersen had said, "No."
Ryan reprimanded himself again for sending the e-mail. But if there was still a God—the One he had believed in growing up, the One his parents had told him about and he learned about in church—if that God existed, sending the email, no matter the consequences to him and to his family, had been the right thing to do. Because as horrific as The Brotherhood had been to the Petersens, their plans for humanity were even worse.
November 1, 2011
Dedication for Covert Reich
When I write a dedication of a book to someone I take some time to think about who the book "belongs" to other than the readers, which I hope that readers know any book I write is always dedicated to them. However, there is always one or two people who I dedicate a book to because they played an important part in having the book come to life. Sometimes the person playing that role may not even be aware of the part they've played.
With my new thriller COVERT REICH out next week, I wanted to post on today's blog who I am dedicating the book to and why. There are two Alex's in my life that this book "belongs" to. The first Alex is my son. If you read yesterday's blog then it's kind of obvious as to why I would dedicate the book to him. The other Alex who I am dedicating COVERT REICH to is actually a friend I met on twitter (of all places). Alex Johnston started following me a few months back. He e-mailed me to let me know how much he enjoyed the A.K. Alexander books. He was also a huge help in providing me with a push to get this book done. If you have read some of the blogs over the past few months then you know it hasn't been easy in my world lately. I had some stuff happen within our family, and then I received some major reamage on both DADDY'S HOME and MOMMY, MAY I? from readers who wrote some real nasty reviews on amazon. To my chagrin when I read over the reviews, I realized that I had uploaded first draft versions of those two manuscripts for Kindle. BIG OOPS! Anyway, the reviews and all the other stuff that went down kind of took the wind out of my sails and made me doubt if I should be writing at all. However, my friend Alex Johnston wrote me and insisted I keep going. He told all of his family and friends to read my stuff, and he Tweets my work all the time. I figured that if I had even just one reader who loved the work as much as Alex does then I am good. I will keep on writing. So, for his kindness to a writer he doesn't even really know and because I feel as if I have met a kindred soul who lives across the pond, this book is dedicated to him. Thank You, Alex, for lifting me up right when I needed it.
Cheers,
Michele
P.S. As promised, here is the back cover copy of COVERT REICH. Come back tomorrow and read the first chapter.
Young, homeless, pregnant minority women and their unborn infants are dying in the emergency rooms in East Los Angeles…
When three pregnant, homeless women die within a week of one another inside the emergency room of County Hospital in East Los Angeles, Dr. Kelly Morales begins to question why and how. When Dr. Morales attempts to question her colleague pathologist Dr. Jake Hamilton he becomes agitated and obviously anxious at her questions. Hours later Dr. Hamilton is murdered.
A cryptic e-mail is sent to journalist Georgia (Gem) Michaels insisting she look into the brutal slaying of a San Diego County family in 2008 that was chalked up to The Mexican Cartel. The e-mail also insists she keeps an eye on her neighbor. At first, Gem thinks the e-mail is nothing but a joke, but her gut tells her that maybe checking out her handsome but odd neighbor is worth her time.
Terrorized and brutalized chemist Dr. Ryan Horner is being held against his will. He knows that if he does not do the bidding of a group who call themselves The Brotherhood that the lives of his wife and children are at grave risk.
In a race against good versus true evil, Dr. Kelly Morales, Gem Michaels, Dr. Ryan Horner, and Detective Tony Pazzini search to uncover the truth and expose it behind the deaths and murders that make up Project Covert Reich.
With my new thriller COVERT REICH out next week, I wanted to post on today's blog who I am dedicating the book to and why. There are two Alex's in my life that this book "belongs" to. The first Alex is my son. If you read yesterday's blog then it's kind of obvious as to why I would dedicate the book to him. The other Alex who I am dedicating COVERT REICH to is actually a friend I met on twitter (of all places). Alex Johnston started following me a few months back. He e-mailed me to let me know how much he enjoyed the A.K. Alexander books. He was also a huge help in providing me with a push to get this book done. If you have read some of the blogs over the past few months then you know it hasn't been easy in my world lately. I had some stuff happen within our family, and then I received some major reamage on both DADDY'S HOME and MOMMY, MAY I? from readers who wrote some real nasty reviews on amazon. To my chagrin when I read over the reviews, I realized that I had uploaded first draft versions of those two manuscripts for Kindle. BIG OOPS! Anyway, the reviews and all the other stuff that went down kind of took the wind out of my sails and made me doubt if I should be writing at all. However, my friend Alex Johnston wrote me and insisted I keep going. He told all of his family and friends to read my stuff, and he Tweets my work all the time. I figured that if I had even just one reader who loved the work as much as Alex does then I am good. I will keep on writing. So, for his kindness to a writer he doesn't even really know and because I feel as if I have met a kindred soul who lives across the pond, this book is dedicated to him. Thank You, Alex, for lifting me up right when I needed it.
Cheers,
Michele
P.S. As promised, here is the back cover copy of COVERT REICH. Come back tomorrow and read the first chapter.
Young, homeless, pregnant minority women and their unborn infants are dying in the emergency rooms in East Los Angeles…
When three pregnant, homeless women die within a week of one another inside the emergency room of County Hospital in East Los Angeles, Dr. Kelly Morales begins to question why and how. When Dr. Morales attempts to question her colleague pathologist Dr. Jake Hamilton he becomes agitated and obviously anxious at her questions. Hours later Dr. Hamilton is murdered.
A cryptic e-mail is sent to journalist Georgia (Gem) Michaels insisting she look into the brutal slaying of a San Diego County family in 2008 that was chalked up to The Mexican Cartel. The e-mail also insists she keeps an eye on her neighbor. At first, Gem thinks the e-mail is nothing but a joke, but her gut tells her that maybe checking out her handsome but odd neighbor is worth her time.
Terrorized and brutalized chemist Dr. Ryan Horner is being held against his will. He knows that if he does not do the bidding of a group who call themselves The Brotherhood that the lives of his wife and children are at grave risk.
In a race against good versus true evil, Dr. Kelly Morales, Gem Michaels, Dr. Ryan Horner, and Detective Tony Pazzini search to uncover the truth and expose it behind the deaths and murders that make up Project Covert Reich.
October 31, 2011
The Story Behind Covert Reich!
I have a new thriller out next week under A.K. Alexander name (fingers crossed all goes well). The title of the Book is COVERT REICH, and it's a conspiracy/political thriller. I thought I would give you some tidbits about the book over the next few days before the release, and hopefully you will enjoy them enough to want to read the book.On release day, which I am shooting for November 8th (one week from tomorrow), I'll post a fun survery/questionaire about the book. Readers who answer the questions correctly will receive a free copy of the book for their e-reader. All answers can be found in the blogs I will post over the next week here at adventurenwriting.
One of the things that I think is interesting about COVERT REICH is that it was the very first book I ever wrote (20 years ago). At the time when I wrote it, my son Alex had just been born. He was a preemie baby who required a two week stay in the Neo-Natal Intensive Care Unit. When I brought Alex home he needed extra care than the average healthy baby. It was the kind of care where I needed to stay home and be a full time mom, which is exactly what I did. It was during this time at home taking care of my son that I decided to finally write my first book. I had written short stories and half written books before, but it was time for me to commit and get a book completed.
The idea for COVERT REICH started in some ways as a catharsis for me. It was difficult being a young mom with a sick baby and writing was a way to help me get through the tougher times. When Alex had been in the unit I pondered "Why my baby?" I had been healthy, taken good care of myself, etceteras. At one point while in his incubator, Alex was pitching one helluva fit. I mean, this kid was having a full blown temper tantrum, turning bright red and screaming as loud as his tiny lungs would allow. It was pretty upsetting for me to witness. Then, one of the NICU nurses put her arm around me and took me over to another baby's incubator. She commented that the baby was silent, lethargic. "He has no fight in him. His mother came in, gave birth and left. She was addicted to drugs. He will likely become a ward of the state. Now, your baby is a fighter. He knows his mom is here and he wants to go home with you." Those words relieved me and so did the care that the nurse showed Alex and me.
Alex was a fighter and he did come home with me after two weeks. It was not long after he was home that I was watching a 60 Minutes Show on Sunday night. The segment was an interview with Louis Farrakhan and his claims that the U.S. Govt. and the Jewish nation had created drugs, Aids and certain alcoholic beverages to destroy African Americans. I found the interview disturbing on several levels. It was also during that time that I read an article about the ideology of sterilizing welfare recipients. Again, I was disturbed.
Those few months, the articles I read, The 60 Minutes segment and my sons tumultuous beginnings into the world, along with the decency and kindness of the NICU staff at Cedar's Sinai in Los Angeles helped me come up with my very first "what if..." It was: What if a neo-natal intensive care doctor uncovers a plot to annhilate factions of society that an extreme group considers "undesirables."?That what if led to the writing of COVERT REICH, which I initially titled COVERT WOMB, then EXTREME SUPREMACY. For the past six months I have been rewriting the book in its entirety. I've added characters, changed the plot some, and reflected current times. It is not the book I wrote twenty years ago. I would like to think that after twenty years of experience in writing full length fiction and having 16 books published that the book is something I can be proud to publish. I hope you will agree and take a chance on it.
I hope you will check out tomorrow's blog, where I will write about who the book is dedicated to and why. I will also upload a description of the book.
Cheers,
Michele
October 13, 2011
Pirates, Sharks, Dinosaurs and a Video Game...Oh My!
For me, I think one of the most difficult aspects of writing isn't, "What am I going to write...," it's more of, "I have a bazillion ideas, what do I write first." Take that one step further and on into genres, branding, and marketing, and I get into all sorts of trouble. I love to write stories, so tying myself into one genre is really difficult to do. All the experts will suggest that you do just that. They say, "Find the market and direct your work toward that market." I agree to an extent, but for some writers we like to jump around a bit, and spread our wings. I wish, wish , wish I could stick to one genre. I do think it would be much easier to "brand" myself, and I also believe by doing so that I would see more sales. The problem with me is that I get an idea and if I like it, I run with it. For me, I have to stay true to my writer self and go in the direction that the "pen", or in this case, the computer leads me.
I've been this kind of writer since I can remember. It's why I write mystery, thrillers, women's fiction, and children's fantasy. Today, I wanted to blog a bit about my children's work, THE CLOVER SIBLINGS AND THE EVIL OF DESMAL. This book started out as a labor of love over eleven years ago when I was pregnant with my little girl. I had just finished writing MOMMY MAY, I? and prior to that THE CARTEL. If you have read either one of those books then you know they are fairly dark. People die in them. Lots of people die and in violent ways in those two books. I didn't want to write serial killers or mafia for the next book.
When I found out that I was having a little girl something inside of me made it to where I had no interest in writing on the dark side. That was compounded by the fact that I was ordered to bed rest. While in bed growing a baby and being catered to by my most amazing mother-in-law, I decided to write a story for my three kids. And that is what I did. I wrote a book about two brothers who were obsessed with video games. They play a game called "Zamora's Ultimate Challenge," where the wicked Queen Zamora is controlling the land of Desmal. Each level of the game has all sorts of challenges and various characters to deal with from pirates to robotic sharks, stinging poisonous fairies, lava monsters, acid poop bombing pteroydactls, Master Souls, etceteras. The game becomes a reality for the brothers when their baby sister is actually sucked into the game by Queen Zamora. It becomes the boys mission to rescue their sister before the queen takes over her soul and is bound to Earth.
I loved writing this book. I think the best part was creating imaginary characters and an imaginary world. It is full of color and life and fun. There are lessons about family and familial bonds in the book that I hoped my kids would take from it. I never intended for the book to be anything more than just for my kids. But my kids started passing it around to their friends who liked it, and I thought that maybe it should be out in the world.
And that is exactly what has happened. The book I once intended only for my fanily has found its way into the hands of many children. It has been an honor to visit schools and classrooms and meet with children, parents and teachers. The book has been "the book of the semester" for three years now at two different schools for 5th grade classes in San Diego County. I have to say that as an author, there is one way to feel like a rock star--surprise 100 kids with a visit and have them ask questions about your book! It is the best. They applaud and they think you are some interesting, wonderful person. I don't bring my own kids with me to tell them the truth, which they would.
Anyway, I am re-releasing this book now where readers can get it electronically. There is a new cover, new title (formerly titled Queen Zamora's Ultime Challenge), and some new additions.
I also want to offer any teachers out there who would like the book in print to contact me, and I will sell them to schools at my cost. I am also always willing to visit schools in the San Diego area. If you aren't local to me, I also Skype with classes and I will Skype with small groups of kids and parents who may choose to read the book as a group. The Clover Siblings isn't just a book for kids. It's one of those books that I have had adults send me e-mails to tell me how much they enjoyed the book. So, take a chance on it. I know that children's books aren't what I typically write, but as I mentioned, I write what moves me. This story moves me. I hope it will interest you and any kid in your life. To set up a Skype with me, just sene me an e-mail and we can set a date and time. Kids always have great questions and input!
If anything, go check out the cover. It's cool! Anthony Sclavi with Brio Books. They rock!
Have a wonderful weekend.
Cheers,
Michele
P.S. The new print version of this book will be available Nov 1. The electronic version is available for your for $2.99 for your Kindle at: http://www.amazon.com/Clover-Siblings-Evil-Desmal-ebook/dp/B005FMK6GG/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1318524467&sr=1-1
I've been this kind of writer since I can remember. It's why I write mystery, thrillers, women's fiction, and children's fantasy. Today, I wanted to blog a bit about my children's work, THE CLOVER SIBLINGS AND THE EVIL OF DESMAL. This book started out as a labor of love over eleven years ago when I was pregnant with my little girl. I had just finished writing MOMMY MAY, I? and prior to that THE CARTEL. If you have read either one of those books then you know they are fairly dark. People die in them. Lots of people die and in violent ways in those two books. I didn't want to write serial killers or mafia for the next book.
When I found out that I was having a little girl something inside of me made it to where I had no interest in writing on the dark side. That was compounded by the fact that I was ordered to bed rest. While in bed growing a baby and being catered to by my most amazing mother-in-law, I decided to write a story for my three kids. And that is what I did. I wrote a book about two brothers who were obsessed with video games. They play a game called "Zamora's Ultimate Challenge," where the wicked Queen Zamora is controlling the land of Desmal. Each level of the game has all sorts of challenges and various characters to deal with from pirates to robotic sharks, stinging poisonous fairies, lava monsters, acid poop bombing pteroydactls, Master Souls, etceteras. The game becomes a reality for the brothers when their baby sister is actually sucked into the game by Queen Zamora. It becomes the boys mission to rescue their sister before the queen takes over her soul and is bound to Earth.
I loved writing this book. I think the best part was creating imaginary characters and an imaginary world. It is full of color and life and fun. There are lessons about family and familial bonds in the book that I hoped my kids would take from it. I never intended for the book to be anything more than just for my kids. But my kids started passing it around to their friends who liked it, and I thought that maybe it should be out in the world.
And that is exactly what has happened. The book I once intended only for my fanily has found its way into the hands of many children. It has been an honor to visit schools and classrooms and meet with children, parents and teachers. The book has been "the book of the semester" for three years now at two different schools for 5th grade classes in San Diego County. I have to say that as an author, there is one way to feel like a rock star--surprise 100 kids with a visit and have them ask questions about your book! It is the best. They applaud and they think you are some interesting, wonderful person. I don't bring my own kids with me to tell them the truth, which they would.
Anyway, I am re-releasing this book now where readers can get it electronically. There is a new cover, new title (formerly titled Queen Zamora's Ultime Challenge), and some new additions.
I also want to offer any teachers out there who would like the book in print to contact me, and I will sell them to schools at my cost. I am also always willing to visit schools in the San Diego area. If you aren't local to me, I also Skype with classes and I will Skype with small groups of kids and parents who may choose to read the book as a group. The Clover Siblings isn't just a book for kids. It's one of those books that I have had adults send me e-mails to tell me how much they enjoyed the book. So, take a chance on it. I know that children's books aren't what I typically write, but as I mentioned, I write what moves me. This story moves me. I hope it will interest you and any kid in your life. To set up a Skype with me, just sene me an e-mail and we can set a date and time. Kids always have great questions and input!
If anything, go check out the cover. It's cool! Anthony Sclavi with Brio Books. They rock!
Have a wonderful weekend.
Cheers,
Michele
P.S. The new print version of this book will be available Nov 1. The electronic version is available for your for $2.99 for your Kindle at: http://www.amazon.com/Clover-Siblings-Evil-Desmal-ebook/dp/B005FMK6GG/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1318524467&sr=1-1
September 13, 2011
Looking for a Title for My New Mystery Series
I will admit it. Titles are not my thing at all. I am really bad at them. I need your help. I will be debuting my new mystery series (The Delebs--Dead Celebs) in late November, and I need a title. I'm posting the long synopsis of the book and a book trailer here to give yoou an idea about the book/series. To make it a little more fun, if I pick your title, you will recieve a signed copy of the book and a $40.00 gift card to either amazon or Barnes & Noble (your choice), plus some acknowledgement in the book.
Love to hear what you think! And for those readers who are A.K. Alexander fans. the next thriller will be out in October. The title of the book is COVERT REICH.
The Dead Celebs Mystery Series
By
Michele Scott
Evie Duncan is a haunted soul in more ways than one. First off, Evie hangs out with dead celebs from movie stars to rock stars, she's surrounded by famous and infamous ghosts. Secondly the unsolved mystery of her sister's murder sixteen years ago weighs heavily on Evie's heart who at twenty-eight-years old wants nothing more than closure and peace of mind where her sister Mary is concerned. When Evie was twelve-years-old, Mary at fourteen ran away from home. Mary's remains were found two months after she left home. She'd been murdered and her killer is still out there somewhere. The memory of Mary is never far from her mind and heart.
Living in small town in the Texas Hill Country selling door to door cosmetics, Evie is an aspiring musician who can play one helluva riff on her guitar, and croon a sweet melody. She has a dream to top the pop charts and prays that one day when she'll be accepting a Grammy. A little luck and an opportunity present themselves when Evie is given five thousand dollars by a dear friend (Betty La Rue) who at eighty something years old insists Evie hits the road and pursue her dream.
With her dog Mama Cass (half coyote, half lab—possibly Border Collie), her guitar and one suitcase, Evie packs up her 1969 VW Van and leaves Texas behind, headed for The City of Angels. Upon arriving in L.A., Evie discovers rather quickly that five grand won't get her very far. She takes a job singing week nights at a dive bar (Nick's owned by washed up child actor Nick Stone), and working days at the cosmetics counter in a department store. But she also needs a place to live because living out of dingy hotels isn't working for her or Mama Cass.
Her big break comes when she does a makeover one day for the sister of pop star diva Simone (just Simone). The diva is so impressed when her sister comes home looking like a star herself that she has her assistant track down Evie and hires her as her personal makeup artist. Evie feels that this has to be the break she's been praying for. Now all she has to do is get Simone to listen to her sing.
Along with her new job comes new connections, and through a little luck Evie is asked to housesit one of Simone's friend's Hollywood Hills estate on a long term deal. Evie jumps at the offer. Thing is, the posh pad is haunted—and not just by any ghost. His name is Lucas Minx. Lucas, a '80s grunge band's lead singer, was shot and killed by his girlfriend for sleeping around with groupies. Lucas was killed in the house Evie is house sitting for, and he doesn't want to leave.
As if things couldn't get any creepier for Evie, one afternoon while opening up the bar she sings at, she finds the body of Nick Stone stabbed to death in one of the booths. She can't help but feel stunned and saddened as Nick had become a friend. He was a nice guy who was taken advantage of as a kid actor, lost most of his money and wound up an alcoholic with a bar. He was also the only guy who would give Evie a chance up on the stage, and she is grateful for that, even if his place isn't exactly The House of Blues. Unlike Simone, Nick was willing to listen to Evie sing, respected her talent and wanted to give her opportunity. Simone is demanding and a diva with no interest in anyone but herself.
Evie is confused when the police don't seem all that interested in finding Nick's killer, claiming it was probably a mafia hit because the guy was a big time gambler. Evie doesn't buy it. And neither does Lucas Minx who may be a ghost but apparently can not see into the future or tell her what happened to Nick. Ghosts like live people can only be in one place at a time.
Evie finds herself wanting to avenge Nick's death and find the killer. It's not far in the back of her mind that her sister's killer has never been caught, and one unsolved murder in her life is more than enough. As she begins to delve into Nick's past, she discovers cover ups and lies from both family and friends who dealt with him. Sorting through it all to find the truth won't be easy, and the more she discovers, the closer she gets to the killer wanting to see her six feet under.
On top of searching for a killer, Evie begins to think that she's going crazy, especially when she starts having feelings for Lucas, and—well, a little paranormal sex happens every so often between them. Hey, she's never made it with a rock star. Then Lucas starts bringing friends around like Bob Marley, Freddie Mercury, Janis Joplin, even Elvis and Sinatra make an appearance. Before long word gets out in the afterworld that Evie's place is a cool hang out and the next thing she knows, she's not only surrounded by dead rockers but also dead actors, from Lucille Ball to Anna Nicole Smith. "Her" home turns into the party zone for dead celebs.
A diva for a boss, a dead guy for a lover, a group of famous ghosts, and a murder on her hands is enough to make anyone crazy, but Evie handles it all with finesse and determination as she juggles the dead and the living in her quest to find a killer and hopefully become a star.
Love to hear what you think! And for those readers who are A.K. Alexander fans. the next thriller will be out in October. The title of the book is COVERT REICH.
The Dead Celebs Mystery Series
By
Michele Scott
Evie Duncan is a haunted soul in more ways than one. First off, Evie hangs out with dead celebs from movie stars to rock stars, she's surrounded by famous and infamous ghosts. Secondly the unsolved mystery of her sister's murder sixteen years ago weighs heavily on Evie's heart who at twenty-eight-years old wants nothing more than closure and peace of mind where her sister Mary is concerned. When Evie was twelve-years-old, Mary at fourteen ran away from home. Mary's remains were found two months after she left home. She'd been murdered and her killer is still out there somewhere. The memory of Mary is never far from her mind and heart.
Living in small town in the Texas Hill Country selling door to door cosmetics, Evie is an aspiring musician who can play one helluva riff on her guitar, and croon a sweet melody. She has a dream to top the pop charts and prays that one day when she'll be accepting a Grammy. A little luck and an opportunity present themselves when Evie is given five thousand dollars by a dear friend (Betty La Rue) who at eighty something years old insists Evie hits the road and pursue her dream.
With her dog Mama Cass (half coyote, half lab—possibly Border Collie), her guitar and one suitcase, Evie packs up her 1969 VW Van and leaves Texas behind, headed for The City of Angels. Upon arriving in L.A., Evie discovers rather quickly that five grand won't get her very far. She takes a job singing week nights at a dive bar (Nick's owned by washed up child actor Nick Stone), and working days at the cosmetics counter in a department store. But she also needs a place to live because living out of dingy hotels isn't working for her or Mama Cass.
Her big break comes when she does a makeover one day for the sister of pop star diva Simone (just Simone). The diva is so impressed when her sister comes home looking like a star herself that she has her assistant track down Evie and hires her as her personal makeup artist. Evie feels that this has to be the break she's been praying for. Now all she has to do is get Simone to listen to her sing.
Along with her new job comes new connections, and through a little luck Evie is asked to housesit one of Simone's friend's Hollywood Hills estate on a long term deal. Evie jumps at the offer. Thing is, the posh pad is haunted—and not just by any ghost. His name is Lucas Minx. Lucas, a '80s grunge band's lead singer, was shot and killed by his girlfriend for sleeping around with groupies. Lucas was killed in the house Evie is house sitting for, and he doesn't want to leave.
As if things couldn't get any creepier for Evie, one afternoon while opening up the bar she sings at, she finds the body of Nick Stone stabbed to death in one of the booths. She can't help but feel stunned and saddened as Nick had become a friend. He was a nice guy who was taken advantage of as a kid actor, lost most of his money and wound up an alcoholic with a bar. He was also the only guy who would give Evie a chance up on the stage, and she is grateful for that, even if his place isn't exactly The House of Blues. Unlike Simone, Nick was willing to listen to Evie sing, respected her talent and wanted to give her opportunity. Simone is demanding and a diva with no interest in anyone but herself.
Evie is confused when the police don't seem all that interested in finding Nick's killer, claiming it was probably a mafia hit because the guy was a big time gambler. Evie doesn't buy it. And neither does Lucas Minx who may be a ghost but apparently can not see into the future or tell her what happened to Nick. Ghosts like live people can only be in one place at a time.
Evie finds herself wanting to avenge Nick's death and find the killer. It's not far in the back of her mind that her sister's killer has never been caught, and one unsolved murder in her life is more than enough. As she begins to delve into Nick's past, she discovers cover ups and lies from both family and friends who dealt with him. Sorting through it all to find the truth won't be easy, and the more she discovers, the closer she gets to the killer wanting to see her six feet under.
On top of searching for a killer, Evie begins to think that she's going crazy, especially when she starts having feelings for Lucas, and—well, a little paranormal sex happens every so often between them. Hey, she's never made it with a rock star. Then Lucas starts bringing friends around like Bob Marley, Freddie Mercury, Janis Joplin, even Elvis and Sinatra make an appearance. Before long word gets out in the afterworld that Evie's place is a cool hang out and the next thing she knows, she's not only surrounded by dead rockers but also dead actors, from Lucille Ball to Anna Nicole Smith. "Her" home turns into the party zone for dead celebs.
A diva for a boss, a dead guy for a lover, a group of famous ghosts, and a murder on her hands is enough to make anyone crazy, but Evie handles it all with finesse and determination as she juggles the dead and the living in her quest to find a killer and hopefully become a star.
August 12, 2011
Sureality
If you read the blog from a couple of days ago, you know that I wrote about the WAKE-UP call. Well, you would have thought that would have been enough. I figured that I really "Got It." Apparently, The Universe, God, The One Above, or just Life (depending on your beliefs) was not convinced!
I do believe that fact is stranger than fiction sometimes. If you had watched the scene that played out yesterday in my world on a movie screen, you would have shalen your head (most likely) and said, "Oh Come on!" But it's all true, and I have witnesses.
So, here goes. My little one is still in the hospital after having two surgeries this week from the freak accident my kids were in. The good news is that she is doing very well. In fact, our fingers are crossed that we will get out of here today. She will be on crutches for a few weeks, and won't be able to get back on the pony for a couple of months, but we got very lucky.
Yesterday morning while hanging out with the kid, I received a frantic phone call from my mom who was supposed to be coming down to visit. She told me that my dad had taken a bad fall. My father has Parkinson's, and falling is something we really have to watch out for with him. He had hit his head on a counter on the way down, and had become unconscious. The paramedics made the decision that it was necessary to air-flight him to the hospital.
The hospital they were taking him to happens to be in the same complex as the Children's Hospital my daughter is at. As I was aware of the timing of the take-off of the helicopter, I knew when to expect it to land across the street. It was a very difficult twenty minutes maintaining my composure. The last thing I wanted for my little girl was to know what was happening with her Papa. They are very close and she would have been beside herself (as I was on the inside). The most surreal moment came when I watched from the window as the chopper flew around one side of the hospital and landed across the street. At that moment my daughter said, "I want to see the helicopter." My husband and I looked at each other knowingly. We knew my dad was on it, and we wanted to be with both him and our daughter. My husband went ahead and walked over to where they were taking my dad into the trauma unit and I waited.
Fortunately, this story ends on a good note. My dad does have a concussion, but he is okay. He is awake and as ornery as ever. I was able to go visit him for a few minutes and tell him that he needed to be a good patient. The best moment came when I told my little girl the story. I said, "Do you remember watching the helicopter this morning?" She said, "Yes." I then said, "Papa was in that helicopter." I finished telling her the story. Her most amazing response (one that only a kid could have was), "Oh my gosh, won't that helicopter ride cost like a hundred thousand dollars!?!"
I really hope that the Powers that Be are finally convinced that I "Get It." I really, really do.
Have a wonderful weekend. Hug the ones you love, and don't sweat the small stuff.
Thanks for reading my work and following the blog,
Michele
I do believe that fact is stranger than fiction sometimes. If you had watched the scene that played out yesterday in my world on a movie screen, you would have shalen your head (most likely) and said, "Oh Come on!" But it's all true, and I have witnesses.
So, here goes. My little one is still in the hospital after having two surgeries this week from the freak accident my kids were in. The good news is that she is doing very well. In fact, our fingers are crossed that we will get out of here today. She will be on crutches for a few weeks, and won't be able to get back on the pony for a couple of months, but we got very lucky.
Yesterday morning while hanging out with the kid, I received a frantic phone call from my mom who was supposed to be coming down to visit. She told me that my dad had taken a bad fall. My father has Parkinson's, and falling is something we really have to watch out for with him. He had hit his head on a counter on the way down, and had become unconscious. The paramedics made the decision that it was necessary to air-flight him to the hospital.
The hospital they were taking him to happens to be in the same complex as the Children's Hospital my daughter is at. As I was aware of the timing of the take-off of the helicopter, I knew when to expect it to land across the street. It was a very difficult twenty minutes maintaining my composure. The last thing I wanted for my little girl was to know what was happening with her Papa. They are very close and she would have been beside herself (as I was on the inside). The most surreal moment came when I watched from the window as the chopper flew around one side of the hospital and landed across the street. At that moment my daughter said, "I want to see the helicopter." My husband and I looked at each other knowingly. We knew my dad was on it, and we wanted to be with both him and our daughter. My husband went ahead and walked over to where they were taking my dad into the trauma unit and I waited.
Fortunately, this story ends on a good note. My dad does have a concussion, but he is okay. He is awake and as ornery as ever. I was able to go visit him for a few minutes and tell him that he needed to be a good patient. The best moment came when I told my little girl the story. I said, "Do you remember watching the helicopter this morning?" She said, "Yes." I then said, "Papa was in that helicopter." I finished telling her the story. Her most amazing response (one that only a kid could have was), "Oh my gosh, won't that helicopter ride cost like a hundred thousand dollars!?!"
I really hope that the Powers that Be are finally convinced that I "Get It." I really, really do.
Have a wonderful weekend. Hug the ones you love, and don't sweat the small stuff.
Thanks for reading my work and following the blog,
Michele
August 10, 2011
The Wake-Up Call
There are times in life when we receive certain WAKE-UP calls. Those calls typically remind us of what is really important in our lives. I got one of these WAKE-UP calls on Monday afternoon. Two of my kids were involved in an accident in a utility vehicle we use to haul horse feed on the property. The UTV is top heavy and not meant to do donuts in the horse arena, but teenagers don't always listen to those words of advice.
My teenager did not heed my words (imagine that--a 17 year-old doing something he isn't supposed to), and the UTV flipped. My son was not injured, but my little girl was hurt pretty badly on her foot. She will be okay, but we are now residents of Children's Hopsital where she is getting ready to go in for her second surgery today. Our fingers are crossed that this will be the last one she has to have.
I think my son is suffering just as much, if not more than my daughter, as he feels horrible for the accident. It's a tough spot for a parent, but as a human being I have truly been reminded of what is important in life, and to be grateful for all that we have. I tend to get wrapped up in my writing and my work. While that is all fine and good, but what is cherishable are family, friends, love, and joy. Knowing how much worse the accident could have been, I can tell you that I won't take being a parent, wife, or a friend for granted. I will remind myself not to sweat the small stuff, and appreciate ALL that life is and has to offer.
I also want to say Thank-You to my readers and friends who visit the blog. Thanks for reading my work and for all of your love and support. I am more grateful than you will ever know.
I am now going to go and hug my sleepy little kid, and watch cartoons with her. :)
Michele
My teenager did not heed my words (imagine that--a 17 year-old doing something he isn't supposed to), and the UTV flipped. My son was not injured, but my little girl was hurt pretty badly on her foot. She will be okay, but we are now residents of Children's Hopsital where she is getting ready to go in for her second surgery today. Our fingers are crossed that this will be the last one she has to have.
I think my son is suffering just as much, if not more than my daughter, as he feels horrible for the accident. It's a tough spot for a parent, but as a human being I have truly been reminded of what is important in life, and to be grateful for all that we have. I tend to get wrapped up in my writing and my work. While that is all fine and good, but what is cherishable are family, friends, love, and joy. Knowing how much worse the accident could have been, I can tell you that I won't take being a parent, wife, or a friend for granted. I will remind myself not to sweat the small stuff, and appreciate ALL that life is and has to offer.
I also want to say Thank-You to my readers and friends who visit the blog. Thanks for reading my work and for all of your love and support. I am more grateful than you will ever know.
I am now going to go and hug my sleepy little kid, and watch cartoons with her. :)
Michele
