Rachel Chavez, a recovering alcoholic, owns and lives in an apartment on the top floor of a parking garage in downtown Los Angeles. She leases parking space and the use of the rooftop helicopter pad to nearby businesses. Tough but vulnerable, she is struggling to stay sober and keep her business financially afloat. Horrified when she discovers two unconscious young Mexican boys locked in an apparently abandoned van in the garage, she rushes them to the emergency room. Doctors declare one dead on arrival. The other, dehydrated but alive, is admitted to the hospital. But when Rachel checks back the next day, the Medical Center has no record of either child. Wary of the police because her own checkered past includes a DWI and arrest for drug possession, Rachel's determination to find an explanation becomes an obsession that meshes with a search for her own Mexican roots, creating a problem in her relationship with her fiance Hank, a workaholic water quality engineer, wants to marry her when his divorce finally comes through. But now Rachel isn't certain marriage is for her. She relies on emotional support from her friends, an eclectic band of misfits and Irene, a homeless fortuneteller, Goldie, the big-hearted leader of the late-night cleaning crew of mentally handicapped workers, and Rachel's dad Marty, a compulsive gambler. She's delighted when the hospital leases parking space for staff, relieving her of financial worries. But her life doesn't become easier. It quickly becomes very complicated. And dangerous.
I've worked as a bartender, truck driver (I had to stand up to shift!), chile picker, musician, bookkeeper, secretary, anything I could convince people I should be paid for.
When I finally finished college, I graduated to science writing, medical writing, feature writing. I loved doing widely diverse things, from watching open-heart surgery to talking to ranchers about cattle breeding, to interviewing NASA scientists about Saturn. I've made the rounds with a game warden, interviewed opera stars, visited digs with an archeologist, watched the making of steel, and interviewed Apache hunters.
Later I taught high school creative writing and journalism at the college level. When I decided money might be a nice thing to have, I turned to corporate writing. I was the pleased and surprised recipient of more than 50 national writing/editing awards including an International Golden Quill.
When I got to where money wasn't all that important, I tried my hand at fiction. I'm sure glad money wasn't important because that was a real uphill battle. Along the way I won a 2003 EPPIE and was a finalist in five national fiction competitions.
I've lived most of my life in New Mexico, with a few detours to the east and west coasts. Albuquerque is my home now, which I share with my husband Ralph and a small menagerie of rescued animals.
Being a nurse I like medical settings. Creepy that activities like this could go on in healthcare but it seems that $$$ speaks louder than compassion and integrity.