The winter has come and gone with its share of sickness, drama and work.
Two bouts of flu followed by bronchitis exhausted me, the first lasted three weeks, the second four weeks. I quaranteened myself at home to improve my chances of recovery and to avoid contaminating other people. Each time, during the first week, I hardly moved my head from the pillow, but during the convalescense, rather than remaining idle and bored, I sat at my computer and wrote a storm. Two romantic suspense novels were born.
The spring brough
t rain, flowers, updated resolutions and new energy to publish and promote my latest story.
FOR SARAH’S SAKE [Book 3 of the Senator’s Family Series] was released a week ago.
A broken marriage.
Second chance at love.
And a precious little girl trying to escape danger and hatred,
to get herself a loving family.
Prologue
“You must obey your mamma’s orders. You understand, Sarah?” The woman held the little girl’s attention with a stern look.
“Yes, Auntie. Me do what Mommy wants.” Sarah’s lips wobbled and the woman hoped the girl would keep calm for a few more minutes—long enough for the woman to relinquish her guardianship.
“When the elevator door opens, you walk out. What should you do next?”
“Walk to the door and bang.” Sarah jolted her foot forward, mimicking a kick.
“Who should you ask for?”
“Doc Dave.” The little girl raised her right thumb to her mouth and chewed on it with a slurping noise.
“When you see Dr. Dave, you open your mother’s purse and give him the envelope.” The woman patted the worn handbag hanging by its straps around Sarah’s neck. “Don’t give it to anyone else. Only to Dr. Dave.”
“Yes,” Sarah answered.
“Your mamma will be proud of you.”
Tears of fear simmered in the girl’s eyes. “Me want to stay with Mommy. Please, Auntie, pl…please. Take me back to Mommy.” Sarah dropped the plastic bag clutched in her left hand and pulled on the woman’s black skirt.
“I can’t. Your mamma went to Heaven. Now you have to go to Dr. Dave.”
Sarah’s chest heaved with sobs.
Impatient, the woman huffed and checked her watch. “You’re wasting my time. Your mamma told you to be brave and Dr. Dave won’t like you if you keep crying.”
The girl swallowed a hiccup. “Can Doc Dave take me to Mommy?”
The woman shrugged. “You should ask him with a big smile. Don’t lose your bag of clothes.” She eased the small fingers off her skirt, slipped the bag around Sarah’s wrist, and urged her inside the elevator. “Now go.” Resolutely she pushed the elevator button to the third floor and swiftly pulled her arm out as the door slid shut. “I did my part. The rest is up to God,” she mumbled under her breath and dashed out of the medical building into Boston’s brisk winter afternoon.
Mona Risk 