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?"


Saturday Snippet from Live,Love,Repeat

I'm going to try to make this interesting by posting some excerpts from previous novels and my current WIP (work in progress). Let's start with an excerpt from Live,Love, Repeat which is available in the Amazon bookstore.

Trevor adjusted his goggles and jumped. He might as well have dived into liquid ice. The bone chilling water enveloped him, slicing through his flesh with numbing clarity. The painful cold caused every hair on his body to stand on end and set his teeth to chattering. His breath effectively stolen by the freezing water, he managed to fight to the surface of the pool. 
He stared at his work crew in shock, unable to think of a single cuss word.
"Cold, ain't it hombre?" Rufus, the only Mexican on the crew asked. Rufus stood a mere five feet four inches tall, with jet black hair in careless disarray, his typical work uniform of jeans and baggy tee shirt threadbare, but clean. He held Trevor's towel in a crumpled wad of disheveled terry cloth. Trevor eyed the towel, anxious to wrap himself in its warmth.
He tried to glare at each of his three employees in turn. Was his face frozen solid? His eyes seemed the only organs still responding to brain impulses. No wonder the guys refused to inspect the pools. What had he been thinking? He'd been thinking of how to get a jump on the competition and save his floundering company at the same time. The company, his legacy and inheritance upon his father's passing, or rather forty-nine percent of it. His mother, in conjunction with the stockholders, owned the other fifty-one percent.
Trevor had shown a propensity for designing pools early in his life and over the years his father had made Trevor's drawings a reality with several of the pools installed in the greater Las Vegas area. Trevor much preferred designing to installing or maintaining. Conceiving, planning and drawing were the part of the business Trevor did best. Running a crew proved his downfall last summer. If he couldn't manage these guys they might all end-up unemployed. He had to find a way to prove to himself, his mother, and the stockholders his value as more than a rich, spoiled screw up.
The outdoor temperature in the sun at this hour boasted 52°F and rising. Not bad for a brisk walk, but not the overly warm triple digits this same pool area would harbor in three month’s time. People wanted to use their pools as soon as the temperatures hit the low eighties which required inspecting and repairing the pools in cooler temperatures.
"Ready to get out Boss-man?" Brodie, the smart-aleck on the crew, crossed his arms over his chest. Not an easy feat for a guy with a chest circumference of fifty plus inches and arms to match.
Anxious to get out of this fix without losing face should have been Trevor's first concern, but survival preempted his faulty leadership skills. His gaze fell on Darin, the youngest man on the crew and Brodie's 'little' brother. Both brothers wore Under Armour and jeans for work this morning. Brodie often beat Darin's tender hearted emotions out of him whether physically or by shear intimidation of muscle and strength. Even so, Darin didn't let Trevor down this time.
"Guys," Darin hesitantly pleaded. "His lips are turning blue. Shouldn't we help him out?"
Brodie dropped his arm, his palm toward Darin as if to catch him with an underhand swing. "Not 'til he admits we aren't 'girly-men.' What do you say Trevor? Are we being 'girly-men' for refusing to jump into these unheated pools for another month or so?"

Chilled to the bone, Trevor did his best to swim toward the pool steps at the shallow end of the pool. As soon as he thought he could reach, he put his feet down to touch the bottom of the pool. Had the guys warned him the cement owned colder temperatures than the icy water he would have laughed. Now he could barely gasp in shock.
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