Sneak Preview ...

 

Jimmy jerked back so hard his chair fell over backwards, causing his head to hit the floor with a dull thud.  The pain was shooting and sharp.  His eyes closed instinctively.  He kept them closed until the pain in his head subsided a bit.  Then, slowly, almost fearfully, he opened them.

 

               Looking down at him, framed by a night sky and thousands of stars, was the beautiful, smiling face of Veronica Taylor.  He could feel that he was no longer lying on a cold, hard floor.  He was lying naked in the high grass.  And Veronica’s naked body was lying partially on his as she looked dotingly down at him.

 

               “This is going to be a great summer,” she said dreamily.


               He just stared at her.  He knew it wasn’t possible.  But somehow here he was, in the field with Veronica, reliving—actually reliving—that first night.  I must be dreaming, he thought.  He closed his eyes again expecting to wake up either on the therapy room floor or in his bed.  But when he opened them, she was still there.  And he was still in Tennessee.

 

               “Come on, baby,” she said.  “We’ve got to get going before we really do fall asleep out here.” 

 

                Veronica stood up.  Her naked body appeared like a painting against the backdrop of the starlit sky with the half-moon appearing to sit on her left shoulder.


               Jimmy didn’t know what was going on.  And he knew how the story with Veronica finally ended.  But this part of the relationship with her was so perfect.  He decided to put aside his fears, and his confusion, and just go with it to wherever it took him.  Besides, he figured, what choice did he have? 

 

              He was here, and for now ... he didn’t know how to get out ....  

 

RECENT INTERVIEWS & ARTICLES:

The Coastal Star April 2013

 

The Florida Bar News

April 2013, Literary Lawyers

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 1 PREVIEW OF WIDOW'S WALK: THE PRECIPICE:

 



Suddenly a piercing pressure enveloped his neck as if it had been placed in a vice with the screws tightening. His head lurched up involuntarily forcing his eyes to stare into the cloudy morass of a turbulent, starless sky.


He  tried to close them, not wanting to see anymore, hoping that by doing so he could find peace—either in sleep, or in death. But they wouldn’t close. Like it or not, he would see what it wanted him to see.