Behind my newest release, Seeing Clearly
by Judythe Morgan
The idea for Seeing Clearly began in 2003. That plot-line was more an inspirational women’s fiction with a grandmother raising
her baby grandson after his parents died in a car accident and how she adjusted.
The idea was loosely formed and even looser written.
I started participating in ACFW craft courses. My writing
improved as I worked with critique partners. A new romantic suspense story with
the same characters began to take shape.
Once I had a better developed story, I entered the
manuscript in contests for additional feedback. My scores were all over the
place. According to many contest critiques, the story still needed a lot of
work. I reworked and entered more contests.
In 2008 Seeing Clearly placed third in a Florida
Romance Writers of America chapter. I was so excited and started to submit to editors
and agents. The rejections rolled in.
At that point, I accepted it was not God’s timing. I put the
manuscript aside and worked on another story idea that had been bouncing around
in my head and kinda forgot about Seeing Clearly.
In 2019 I had an opportunity to attend a conference where Michael Hague was the speaker and
participate in a one-on-one small group session to discuss our
works-in-progress. I chose Seeing Clearly for the individual tutoring
After the conference, a small group of us who attended
formed a critique group. Between Michael’s input and brainstorming with my new
critique group Seeing Clearly finally evolved into a viable story and my
characters came to life.
Evie Parker is a forty-something grandmother raising her
toddler grandson who is attracted to an ex-cop employee a decade younger. It
was her story and I couldn’t bring myself to change it. Thanks to Michael and
my critique group, my unconventional character became real.
When I started writing Seeing Clearly, a story of
later-in-life romance was a little too outside the box for a typical romantic
suspense story. That probably explains the conflicting contest scores and so
many rejections. Readers weren’t there.
After months of rewriting, in February of 2020 I entered
another contest and placed third. I knew then it was time to publish. Seeing
Clearly released in May 2020. According to the reviews posted, readers love
Evie and Dawson and their story. The timing was finally right.
This book’s road to publication was indeed a long one. I
worked hard, but it was so worth it. I learned so much. I hope sharing about Seeing
Clearly’s journey with readers will help them enjoy the book more.
And, writers who are reading Peg’s blog, I share to remind
you never give up.
Date: May 12,
Seeing Clearly Back cover Blurb
Evie Parker is a widow and trusting to a fault. She’s
raising her grandson after her only child and his wife die in a suspicious car
Dawson McKey is a divorced, overly cautious ex-cop, who now
manages Evie’s shipping company. He trusts no one after his twin sons were
killed by a cartel’s bomb.
There’s undeniable attraction even though she’s twelve years
his senior. But she’s convinced their age difference will haunt their
relationship. Dawson’s vowed never to love again but being with Evie challenges
Drugs show up in a company shipment at the same time
mysterious emails threaten Evie’s grandson. Then the nanny she hired against Dawson’s
advice disappears with her grandson and Dawson suspects cartel
Can their search for the toddler renew their trust and bring
their hearts together?
Seeing Clearly Buy links
Excerpt from Seeing Clearly
Darkness swirled in Evelyn Parker’s
head. Dawson McKey’s voice drifted like a soft light through the blackness. “Evie.”
She heard her name, the drone of
whispered words, and other sounds she couldn’t identify. It was like trying to
thread a needle, blindfolded.
An antiseptic smell made her cough.
She opened her eyes and reality came crashing through her haze. Hospital. Accident. David and Mandy dead.
She pushed upward from the hard,
cold medical center floor. “No.”
“Lie still, Mrs. Parker.” A
fresh-out-of-medical-school doctor lightly touched her wrist, checking his
watch. “You fainted and gave yourself a nasty bump.”
Fainted? She snatched her hand from
the doctor’s grip. She never fainted. Not even three years ago when her husband
died in her arms. “I’m fine. Where’s my grandson?”
Tiny bumps pebbled across her neck.
Did she already know that answer? Is that why she fainted?
The way-too-young-looking doctor
pointed to a room adjacent to the busy ER waiting area. “Why don’t we go in
there and talk? I can check that bump.”
His voice sounded soft and
sympathetic. She searched his face for any sign of hope against the truth she
Dawson, her friend and Parker
Industry’s Director of Security, eased his arm behind her back. Her legs
“Steady,” he whispered, tucking her
into his side.
She leaned into the solace of his
chest for a nanosecond then straightened her shoulders and followed the doctor
to a closet-like room with an ancient metal desk and two chrome-armed chairs
that had seen better days.
Evie sank into the nearest chair.
The doctor gently rubbed the back of her head. She flinched.
“Everything looks fine. However, if
you develop a headache, become nauseous or dizzy, you need to come back
immediately. You don’t want to mess with a head injury.”
“I will. Now, what about my
grandson, Dr.—” She glanced at his name badge. “Morrison. Is Michael okay?”
Dawson’s large, warm hand covered
hers. She wanted to nestle into his heat, lean against his strong body, to hide
until all of this went away. She stiffened her spine instead.
Dr. Morrison studied her face. “Your
grandson’s doing okay. He appears to have only cuts and bruises. His seatbelt
harness snapped when the SUV was hit, throwing him from the vehicle as it
flipped. He escaped the fire, and the car seat protected him. We’ve done X-rays
and MRIs to be sure. Results aren’t back yet.”
The room tilted. A fiery image
flashed in her mind’s eye sending a cold chill down her spine. She swallowed.
She couldn’t allow her brain to go there, wouldn’t go there. Doing well sounded
a little iffy, but—thank you, Lord—not as final as dead.
She pressed her fist to her lips,
pushed back the dizziness, and managed to connect with the doctor’s gaze. “When
can I see him?”
The doctor opened the door. Clatter
and chatter from the ER waiting area filled the room. “Follow me.”
Evie planted her flip-flops on the
floor with a thud. The clip-clop of the rubber soles boomed in rhythm with her
pounding heart as she followed.
Dawson slowed his pace to Evie’s
stride. He drew deep on years of training to keep his body language relaxed
while his senses were on high alert after what the investigating officer told
him. A witness reported another car clipped David’s SUV by accident, causing it
to careen off the road.
By accident? Not likely. Not with the
gambling debt David Parker had. More likely a deliberate act executed by
someone he owed or the cartel. He’d bet the cartel.
Either way, it was one more question to
add to his ever-growing list of unanswered questions about Evie’s son.
Parker had risked everything and lost.
Traded his love of gambling for life and family. You don’t mess around with the
cartel. How well Dawson knew.
He’d promised her dying husband he’d
take care of her. If she knew what he was doing, she’d send him away. She
thought she could take care of herself. He should explain his suspicions about
her son. Pointless, she’d never believe David hadn’t reformed like he promised.
Not without proof. Proof he didn’t have. Yet.
Dr. Morrison motioned them inside.
Their hands still clasped, Dawson guided her to Michael’s crib side.
blurred. A fire exploded in his gut. In that instant, he made another vow.
Whoever had done this, he’d find them and make them pay.
as he’d vowed to find the cartel leader Marco Torres and make him pay for what
he’d done to his boys.
From the waiting room of Mercy
Regional Medical Center, the man watched Parker’s Madre and McKey
approach, trailing behind the doctor down the corridor. Anger stiffened his
back and burned his eyes. Would he ever be rid of McKey?
His first plan to do away with the
nuisance had bombed. Now this. Another big screwup. This one threatened their
supply chain. Prickles of apprehension twined with his anger. Not good. Not
good at all. Mistakes in a business with no margins for error made him look
weak. Made the cartel bosses wonder why he was here. His papá was not going to be happy. And when papá was
not happy, it was never a good thing.
author Judythe Morgan was an Air Force daughter then an Army wife and a one
time-Department of Army Civilian employee. She’s traveled a lot of this world.
antiques dealer, teacher, former mayor's wife, and sometimes-church pianist,
she's had some interesting experiences.
mommy to an Old English sheepdog named Finnegan MacCool and a Maltese named
Buster, there are always wild adventures in the works.
travel, experiences, and wild adventures always find their way into her
award-winning stories. Check her website
her fiction, she writes a weekly blog with her urban farmer daughter, Chicken
Wrangler Sara. You can follow at www.judythewriter.com
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