As a Multiple Sclerosis patient, it has become necessary for me to reinvent myself. I have ... and continue to ... refuse to lie down and die, or in this case, follow the normally prescribed drugs and treatments that do nothing to defeat my disease. I am not only surviving by pursuing alternatives, I am thriving. I do the things specialists told me I would never be able to do. I walk and hope to one day even run regularly. I retain my cognitive and creative abilities for the pleasure of my readers. Although you may never see me on my daily walk, you are welcome to read my novel(s) and in doing so, come to ask yourself, "How can the 'out of the box' protocol she has followed, help my loved one with an autoimmune disease like Multiple Sclerosis?"
Since I won't be hopping from blog to blog today it is time to decide whether or not my hero and heroine in Talisman: Crisscross in Time get out of their current crisis or rather how.
It is a romance so they will in the end, but at what cost? Quinn- the hero is on trial for murder. Trish - the heroine has yet to pass the bar, but does she know enough to get him off? What game is she playing? Is one of them, or both insane? Of course at this point neither has verbally admitted to the other that they are in love, but if a character is willing to die for the other, doesn't that make it obvious?
Are you dying to know what I'm talking about? Okay, I know T. is, so here's a short excerpt to get you wanting more of this time-travel to the late 1800's.
"Would you care to tell the court of that afternoon?"
Quinn accurately related the events that took place up until they had left the saloon, but didn't mention the details of why such plans had been made.
"What happened when we left the saloon? I will remind you that you are under oath. There is no place here to spare the sensitivities of the women present, including myself."
"I drove ya to my place and we talked. Then ya left."
"We talked. Nothing more? Are you absolutely sure?"
"Yes, we talked… maybe argued, but nothin' else I'm sure."
"Did you infer, by direct means, or hint… at bedding me?"
Quinn dropped his gaze. When he looked up Trish noticed the pain etched there.
"Yes, I did invite ya to my bed."
"For money?" Trish ignored the murmurs and pushed on before her resolve faded.
"No." His features wore a tentative apprehension.
"Didn't you indicate that you would make it 'worth my trip'?"
"Yes, but it was a ploy to cover your actions." he defended.
Judge Fairbanks shifted in his chair.
"Is this a ploy now?" she asked.
"I don't think so, no."
Trish wanted to press him further but her wanting to know how deep his feelings for her ran had nothing to do with this trial.
"Thank you, Quinn. Your honor, I am through questioning this witness, but request that I have the right to recall him."