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Thursday, May 31, 2012

Camp NaNoWriMo is here!

I have a confession to make.  I now have a full time job on top of my full time writing.  I didn't want to do it... but alas... the bills must get paid, and I have grown accustomed to a certain lifestyle... and food. ;)

I work in emergency medicine.  There.  I said it. 

Okay, moving on... I am SO EXCITED for Camp NaNoWriMo this June!!!! I am all set up on my page, my NaNo coffee mug is ordered, and have my camping buddy Suzanne in my 'cabin'.

Life is good. 

So, here is a sneak peek at my novel for this NaNo season:



Title: The Closing

Synopsis:
After her husband takes a bullet to the head in the line of duty, Melissa begins feeling like someone is watching her. No one can tell her what he was investigating, or why he was in that abandoned house, not his partner, or even her husband.

The doctors are calling it Traumatic Brain Injury. They say that he may, or may not recover. He may or may not spend the rest of his life the mental age of six years old.

With the unknown closing in on her, Melissa has no choice but to fight back on her own terms to save her husband... and her life.



Excerpt:


Melissa Briggs pulled into the parking lot of the Weston Psychiatric Hospital in her beige Honda Civic.  Putting the car into park. She sat there with her hand frozen on the gear shifter.  One deep breath, then another… and another.  You can do this.  Stop thinking and just get moving. She scolded herself as another wave of nervous nausea hit her.  She took a sip of coffee, and digging around in her purse, produced a tube of waterproof mascara.  Pulling down the visor mirror, she touched up her makeup, and lip gloss.  Inspecting her reflection, she thought that she almost looked normal, except for that hint of swelling around the eyes and nose.  The tell tale signs of a late night crying session.  Crap. She slammed the visor up, and put on her Jackie-O sunglasses.  Grabbing her bag, she stepped out of the safety that her little car provided.  She smoothed her blouse, and worried for the hundredth time that jeans were not an appropriate choice to see your husband for the first time in two weeks.  Too late now, just stop thinking about it. 

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