Tears for the Unforgotten by Susan Hanniford Crowley

Soon it will be September 11th again. My thoughts will go back to the Twin Towers, the Pentagon, and in a field in Pennsylvannia. I think about those lost and those brave first responders. A few years ago, I had a very unusual dream. I wrote it down, but that was not enough. I did research on the first responders, the people both dead and surviving, and how it happened. I read reminisces of people who received last phone calls. I read last emails, too. A friend of mine kept newspapers of that time and allowed me to read them all. I read about those that dug frantically trying to save as many lives as they could. So I went back to the story, and it became When Love Survives.

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Background Photo by Landry Gapangwa on Unsplash

An excerpt:

“I’m late!” Reggie stared at the alarm clock. “I can’t believe this is happening to me!”

Pulling her wet, red hair into a sophisticated bun, she ran down the stairs of her apartment

building. She never liked her hair.

The postman slipped the mail into the boxes. “Hey you, Regina O’Malley?”

She stopped. Crap! I’m going to lose the best internship in the city and maybe a chance of a great job when I graduate. “Yes.”

He handed her an envelope from Alaska. Read Immediately was written in large letters, so

she ripped it open.

Dear Reggie,

We can’t get through on your cell, and your father and I have been worried sick.

We’re sending our love and protection. We’ve held off telling you this, but it’s time you

know. Remember how you always made a joke that your father was a leprechaun and your

mother an elf? Well, sweetheart, I hope you’re sitting down, because it’s true. Call us as

soon as you can. We have a lot to tell you. We love you, and please, be careful.

Love,

Mom

Mom’s letters were always strange but this one took the cake. If what her mother said was

true, it explained all the weirdness in Reggie’s life. Giggling nervously, as she usually did to

cope, she folded up the letter and put it in her pocket before rushing out the door.

Damn! The bus is at the corner!

Reggie ran. It pulled away from the curb into traffic. She screamed, but it didn’t stop. Why

would it? The city drowned out her screams. That was life in New York. You screamed and

mostly people didn’t notice. Exasperated, she looked at her watch. Damn, I want that job.

She flagged a cab.

The cost from Brooklyn to Manhattan would be a mint, but an internship with a good

brokerage house was worth its weight in gold. Reggie tried to think happy thoughts. That’s what her mom had taught her. And when she got home, she’d have to find that cell phone.

The ride was nerve-wracking. Her mind kept dwelling on things she couldn’t change. She

thought the pale gray suit would make the best impression. Maybe she should have worn the pink, low-cut crepe blouse instead and not this blue, silk one. Reggie lifted her fingers to her mouth and immediately put them down again. The last thing she wanted to do was waste a perfect manicure. Oh, God, Mr. Holmut is going to be so angry. Her academic advisor at NYU had worked hard getting this paid internship for her.

The cab stopped and it wasn’t for a light. They were in Manhattan. Reggie looked around to see if she could figure out her location. The World Trade Center was only four blocks around that corner at the most. After paying the man, she leaped out of the cab.

She was almost there, pausing only to catch her breath in front of the coffee shop before the corner. A tall man opened the door, pulled her inside, and shut the door behind her.

“What the . . .” Reggie stared up into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. His handsome,

sculpted face was framed by thick, dark hair. She was dazed and confused.

Then everything shook. Coffee cups jingled. The customers in line fell into each other.

Donuts and pastries slid on the rack. People screamed in the streets. Fire trucks maneuvered through traffic.

Reggie turned to go out, but the man put his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t go outside.

Please.” It was the way he said it that captivated her.

A man covered with soot ran into the shop. “The World Trade Center’s on fire!” Some

people hurried out to look. Others rushed out the doors in the opposite direction. Reggie

collapsed into the seat of an empty booth. Her head ached, then throbbed, then changed to a pain past describing. She raced for the restroom and upon entering fell on her knees in the first stall to violently puke. Hundreds of screaming voices filled her head. She’d been in the city for two years and had never heard the thoughts of New Yorkers, but now their horror crashed down on her in deafening, unceasing, agonizing waves.

Someone held her hair, which had fallen out of the bun. Then Reggie puked again. Totally

devastated, the physical and emotional pain held her captive. She collapsed on the floor and curled into a ball. When Reggie looked up through tear-filled eyes, the same man reached for her. She couldn’t stop shaking. The very instant his hand touched hers, the voices stopped. Oh, what sweet relief. He helped her sit in a small chair beside the sink.

“What happened to you?”

“I don’t know.” Reggie blinked back tears. “What’s happening to the world?”

“People are coming in saying there’s a fire in the North Tower.” He shook his head in

dismay.

“I was supposed to be in the North Tower. I was late for my internship.” She couldn’t stop

shaking. He had let go of her hand, and the voices in her skull grew stronger with each passing minute. When Reggie slid off the chair, he reached for her again. Sitting on the floor, he enclosed her in his arms this time. Everything in her should have been repelled, but he was like a sanctuary. In his arms, the world of pain didn’t exist. Did she enjoy his touch because he sheltered her from this torment, or was it the blue eyes, face sculpted like an Adonis, and strong arms that made every fear melt away?

“I was in the North Tower. I work there, and I hate the office coffee, so I left to get

everyone coffee and donuts on me just so I could get my coffee here at Phil’s.” Even though a wave of sadness radiated out from him, Reggie felt his calming strength.

*

This is just the beginning of what happens to them!

When Love Survives, Vampires in Manhattan Book 1 is available in Kindle and Print, Nook, Kobo and Smashwords.

Sometimes when I dream and write a book, I learn that there is always hope and love even in the darkest moment. We just have to look for it. Even in remembrance there is love.

-Susan

Susan Hanniford Crowley, Amazon Kindle Bestselling Author of Vampire Romance

www.susanhannifordcrowley.com

Where love burns eternal and whispers in the dark!

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When Love Survives, Vampires in Manhattan Book 1 available in Kindle and Print, Nook, Kobo and Smashwords.

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