The Story
Behind my newest release, Seeing Clearly
by Judythe Morgan
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.
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 sessions.
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.
- Title: Seeing Clearly
- Author:
Judythe Morgan
- Publisher:
The Danfield
Press
- Release
Date: May 12,
2020
- Genre:
Romantic
Suspense
- Series/Stand-Alone:
Stand-Alone
- Target
Audience: PG,
Ages 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 accident.
- Amazon Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08768ZJQX
- Nook Book: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/seeing-clearly-judythe-morgan/1136871829
- BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/seeing-clearly-by-judythe-morgan
- Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/53746639-seeing-clearly
- Amazon Author Page https://amazon.com/author/judythemorgan
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
feared.
Dawson, her friend and Parker
Industry’s Director of Security, eased his arm behind her back. Her legs
wobbled.
“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.
Same
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.
Judythe’s BIO
Award-winning 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.
An antiques dealer, teacher, former mayor's wife, and sometimes-church pianist, she's had some interesting experiences.
As mommy to an Old English sheepdog named Finnegan MacCool and a Maltese named Buster, there are always wild adventures in the works.
Her
travel, experiences, and wild adventures always find their way into her
award-winning stories. Check her website
https://judythemorgan.com for
details.
Besides
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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I'm so glad you never gave up on this story, Judythe. I know I'm hooked already! Thanks for sharing!
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