YIPPEE! We’re getting closer, folks. I never dreamed a month could be so bitter and confining. Yuck. But we are survivors to live again and greet the sun.
I continue with my nameless WIP, poor baby. Chip sent a shout out for one possibility and I’m considering it. Come on , folks. Maybe this week’s eight will stimulate an idea from a group filled with just the right title.
Last week , Chapter one introduced you to James Chandler in the hospital, bloodied panties on his head from a fall on the platform bed. Dangerous after making love in the dark when she says no and cries.
excerpt in eight:
Two a.m. the ambulance sirens shut down and stopped at the Emergency entrance to the River’s Edge Hospital. Anna followed the EMT’s into the hospital when a guard tried to stop her by saying,” are you related?”
“Well, almost, we’re engaged;” antiseptic smells bombarded her senses as Anna followed the gurney down the narrow emergency area to where a doctor slumped against the wall. She ran to him, touched his white coat, “Doctor, my fiancé fell, hit his head against the platform of his bed and he’s unconscious so please hurry.”
Squinting his eyes at her, he nodded.and she marveled at the way he shook his head as if to clear cobwebs of exhaustion and come awake. “An educated guess is concussion but first an MRI so wait here because someone will be asking for his insurance card and personal information.”
Alone in the curtained cubicle, Anna prayed to all the Gods she knew; “please keep James Chandler safe and healthy; we have plans for a life together, dear Father. I said no because I wanted to think of what to do about my dear tribal people who will hate me if I marry someone without making amends.” She laid down on the cot where the doctor had examined her Jimmy and dozed off.
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