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?"


Update Halfback Hero

Ah, that is done with another critique on the horizon...let's see as to a snippet...

The only answer to this dilemma and any future ones would be shooting her dad. Evie couldn’t do it any more than she could run from the life around her. Dad had his own ideas of how to run her life and he’d been semi-successful doing it for twenty-three years. In all honesty his manipulating help had proved welcome since high school but not this evening, aside from his invitation to dinner. When the doorbell rang, Dad continued his phone conversation and Mom had her hands full with preparing food, leaving her to play the part of hostess, or at the very least, door-woman.
Evie sighed in resignation and answered the door. Evie’s heart jumped to her throat before plummeting at death-defying speed to the pit of her stomach. Justin Lyman, a solid mass of molded muscle, more alluring than he had been in high school, stood on the other side of the screen door. Frozen legs preempted her thought for flight, possibly compounded by the knowledge of him being the fastest runner in town, especially when dodging a linebacker intent on bringing him to the ground. Yes, shooting Dad with the shotgun seemed the easier choice.

Justin Lyman. Her older brother’s long time friend, football persona who’d played for the Raiders at one time—and her major heart throb stood on her doorstep instead of letting himself in as he had numberless times. On more than one occasion he’d found her dashing from one room of the house to another in nothing more than a bath towel. He no longer wore his ‘Indiana Jones’ hat, the one she could identify through the rear window of a pickup, which she’d often imagined fleeing the scene anytime she arrived on site. Of course if he remained nearby in those days, she had the arduous task of pasting a smile on her lips through the torture of his teasing—not the flirting kind but the ‘painful to a young adolescent in love’, kind. Instead of the worn hat, he wore his recently trimmed brown locks to go with his scruff of a beard. His shoulders had broadened somewhat and his chest and back had thickened, still boasting perfection for any female to cry on. She sucked at the air and caught a whiff of his cologne, strong in a sexy and musky way. Her knees threatened to quiver. Damn, why couldn’t they remain frozen?
Hope you enjoyed it! stay tuned for an update on when it will be released!
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