Justin needs a plan - Weekend Writing Warriors / #8sunday / 10/18/15

Hi! Welcome to another Weekend Writing Warrior and Snippet Sunday round. Every week writers post 8-to-10 sentences on their blogs from a published or unpublished book. Then we "hop" around and leave comments on each other's snippets. Whether our work is already published or in progress, the helpful comments help us become stronger writers on our next WIP. We welcome EVERYONE's comments.

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My entry this week is from Common Bond, Tangled Hearts. Layne Gillette’s world is turned upside down when a man she has never met shows up to lay claim as the father of her 6-year old son. 

Justin returns to his apartment to figure out what to do to get Layne back... and to heal. He calls on Larry Davis, the family attorney; they previously had words about his pursuing Layne and it didn't end well.

  (the following has been creatively edited to fit)  ...and now the eight nine ten:

Justin went straight to his apartment, if he showed up at the office or at the house he'd have far too much explaining to do. His face looked battered, one eye was black and his cheek was bruised and swollen, that was just what was visible; his heart was battered beyond belief.

He made a phone call to Larry Davis, he needed Larry's help.

Justin peeled back his shirt to look at his side again, the angry bruising on his rib cage was just as ugly as it felt. He was downing another three Ibuprofen when his doorbell rang; if he were lucky it would be Larry, if it were an answer to his prayers it would be Layne.

Larry was at the door, he looked at Justin’s bruises, "what the hell happened to you?"

"It would seem that I pissed somebody else off," Justin said wryly.

“You left the message that you needed my services," Larry noticed Justin's grimace as he turned, "you really are hurt."

"I'll live," Justin sat gently, "Layne and Dennis were kidnapped this morning, although everyone would like to think that she went back to her husband."

"The PI’s report never said anything about a husband, by the way our PI is missing."

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About Common Bond, Tangled Hearts

Layne Gillette’s world is turned upside down when a man she has never met shows up to lay claim as the father of her 6-year old son.

Justin, the victim of a fraternity prank, and Layne, the subject of a forced insemination, have produced a beautiful child that they are both willing to protect… at all costs.

The two parents realize they can love each other, but when Layne’s abusive “ex-husband” shows up, they are torn apart by danger, kidnapping and lies. Justin won’t give up until Layne is returned to him. Layne uses her newfound strength, courage and knowledge to defy Charlie’s ugliest demands.

Smashwords (multiple e-book formats)

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Kindle from Amazon

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 ~~~~~

There is a scene in my novel Karma Visited (one of the dream sequences) where the heroine watches a large group of bedraggled and soaking wet people entering a shelter after a devastating storm and flood ~ this scene was stolen in full from my own memory of Superstorm Sandy in October 2012.

A section of my hometown in New York's Hudson Valley was devastated by the high tides, pouring rain and violent winds. Homes that sat alongside the majestic Hudson River were literally washed away; other homes, more inland, suffered downed trees crashing through rooftops. In total nearly 100 residents had no where else to go and needed shelter to ride out the rest of the storm and to live temporarily until other arrangements could be made. It was heartbreaking.

As an Executive Board Member of our local ambulance corps it was my responsibility to liaison with the town and emergency services to set up a shelter for the displaced. The night the storm was at its worst, while my husband, son and daughter-in-law were riding the rigs and rescuing people from the high waters, I stood in the hallway of our building with other volunteers when a busload of frightened residents were dropped off and I watched them come down the hall - the memory remains burned into my mind.

Writers are often told to write what they know - I did. 

Superstorm Sandy wreaked havoc three years ago this week

And thank you to all the volunteers who left the comfort & safety of their own homes to help.

Annie was standing at the end of a long hallway. A group of people were walking towards her. She noticed tear streaked faces and vacant eyes that had already seen too much. One woman was holding a toddler to her chest; both of them were soaked through and shivering. A young girl was holding a calico cat; the cat clung to her, and both of them looked scared. Arms around the furry feline, paws around the little girl’s neck, both of them looked like all they had in the world was each other. Silent tears were rolling down the girl’s cheeks.

The destination for the mass of bedraggled storm victims was a rickety table. Two women sat there asking gentle questions and taking names. As the evacuees signed in they were ushered into the room behind the table. A man brought in a heavy wool blanket and wrapped the woman and toddler in it. Through the tears and anxious whispers Annie heard the words rain, tornadoes and death. The shocked expressions and quivering voices bore testimony to the fierce winds of the monsters that left devastation in their path.

Looking around the room now teeming with both the rescued and the rescuers, Annie saw trophies and photos of uniformed men and women marching next to fire trucks and ambulances. The local fire department opened its doors as a shelter for the survivors of the storm. Even the heroes who were doling out blankets, hot coffee and comfort looked scared and overwhelmed. Every now and then she saw a shelter worker offer a consoling and light touch on the arm, a hug, a shoulder – human touches that were beyond her ability. Annie wondered why she was there, what she could do to help them.

The evacuees clung to family members and friends who walked in with them. She heard people crying as they spoke about homes that collapsed around them. A few people stood and shouted random names with passionate pleas for any information. A shelter volunteer began handing out dry clothes for people who needed, others got blankets and toiletries, a few of the very young were given stuffed animals and toy trucks. A non-stop stream of coffee, juice boxes and cookies were offered all around. People sat at tables clutching their new possessions, an armful of material things that represented all they owned.

Karma Visited

Button Up Your Overcoat

As a writer I get to live vicariously through my characters. I get swept up in their lives, sometimes cry for them, worry a bit, and cheer them on. I use the real-life things that have touched me or stories I hear from people around me. All in all, it makes for very interesting experiences.

In 2005 I listened to stories that my husband and some of his fellow DMAT team members told about what they had seen in the New Orleans area after Hurricane Katrina brought that city down. They had gone down there as part of a medical response team to try to help. My husband was there for six weeks. Hearing about the courage and resiliency of the survivors and their determination to rebuild was amazing.

When I wrote Hostage Heart my heroine was a young lady from Louisiana whose family was devastated by the “hurricanes”, even losing a beloved family matriarch to the flooding. I relied heavily on the stories from my husband and the tales my late grandmother always told me after living through several Florida hurricanes, and I hoped it gave me a feeling of authenticity that I could put into my story.

About a year ago in the north eastern community where I live in the Hudson Valley of New York, I personally lived through Superstorm Sandy, barely downgraded from a hurricane. What was most memorable, aside from the fierce winds, driving rain and sixteen foot waves crashing in from the river, was the fact that I was lucky to be part of the rescue efforts in my small town.

I was a part of a local volunteer ambulance corps and we had just moved into a brand new building. The town supervisor was looking for a place to host a shelter for the many residents who would be displaced by the rising water or who would need assistance due the high winds and loss of electricity. We had the room, we had a generator, and we were a relatively safe distance from the river. Just a few families evacuated before the full brunt of the storm hit (a little more than a year before Hurricane Irene hit another part of our county and left my town unscathed, people expected the same thing).

The town dispatched buses to aid evacuation as the storm grew stronger and it became more evident we were not going to escape nature’s wrath again. While other members of my family and several of my friends responded to the many ambulance calls and aided in rescues, I was one of those who manned the shelter, greeting evacuees, keeping records and offering comfort however I could. A few of our corps members were affected, one losing his home to the river, and others needing heat and electricity. Residents in the town were generous and gave many much needed donations of clothing and other goods. 

One of the scenes I wrote into my latest novel, Karma Visited, came directly from the night that Superstorm Sandy ravished the waterfront communities in the county I live in.

We had stragglers arriving through the day, but when the first busloads of evacuees arrived I remember looking down the hallway to see a large mass of shocked faces, dripping clothing, frightened children and broken spirits moving towards the only salvation they could find that night – us. We accepted many family pets (preparations were made to keep them separately from the human evacuees), but I remember seeing this young girl holding her beloved pussycat. The cats paws were literally wrapped around his owner’s neck. I don’t know who looked more scared. These are the two images that remain in my mind. The shelter was open for a week. By then many of the evacuees were either able to return home or had made arrangements with family; a few who lost their homes and possessions were put into a longer term facility where they could live, go to work and school, while trying to rebuild.

Although I spent the bulk of that week in the shelter, it was to care for those who managed to find some modicum of comfort, some who literally watched their homes floating into the river, others who needed warmth and electricity in a powerless community, and some who thought they were safe until trees crashed through their roof. My own family was relatively unscathed – a few trees fell on the property missing the house and doing minimal damage otherwise. We left our pussycats home after assuring their safety and arranging visits home to feed them – they managed without lights and the TV. At the end of the week we came home, cleaned up the debris, threw out some spoiled milk, and finally allowed everything we had seen and done to take hold of our emotions.

One year later, I still see areas in the region that need rebuilding, I hear of families still trying to start over. Here at home I see a community that has survived. Every day I pray for the people who still need our help and support fundraising efforts in the community.

One year has passed, one year… I feel very blessed to have been a part of the recovery and very, very blessed that my family seemed buffered through the storm.

a related article:  Rockland Web Design Blog

September is National Preparedness Month

September is National Preparedness Month (NPM), founded after 9/11 to increase preparedness in the U.S. Preparedness is a shared responsibility; it takes a whole community. Emergencies can happen anytime and anywhere without notice.

Being prepared and responding to emergencies is something that has been very important to me for most of my life. As a child I admired my dad who was active with Civil Defense which later became the NYC Auxiliary Police. He became the Auxiliary Police Captain in the 52nd pct (Bronx) and I joined the unit as an Auxiliary Police Officer helping to patrol the streets of my community. And yes, that is where my husband and I finally got together; he was also an Auxiliary Officer.

Later after marriage we moved to an upstate NY community and spent nearly three decades as volunteer certified Emergency Medical Technicians and responded to 911 calls - we delivered babies, did CPR, treated broken bones, comforted scared patients and did what we could. We taught CPR, taught First Aid, and helped educate what to do in the case of an emergency. Both of our children were raised in EMS and made their careers as highly trained EMS providers.

Last October 2012 Superstorm Sandy devastated a portion of our community and we saw first hand and personally the need for preparedness, the need for community. and the spirit of people who faced nature's fury.

I'm a writer and I write about people living through situations that might seem dire. I wrote my two EMS novels, Final Sin and Hyphema as a tribute to first responders. In tomorrow's blog I'll post an excerpt from Hyphema where Flight Paramedic Matt Garratti responds to a community devastated by tornadoes.

In the meanwhile, strengthen your own preparedness:

• Stay Informed: Information is available from federal, state, local, tribal, and territorial resources.
• Access Ready.gov to learn what to do before, during, and after an emergency.
• Make a Plan: Discuss, agree on, and document an emergency plan with those in your care. For sample plans, see Ready.gov. Work together with neighbors, colleagues, and others to build community resilience.
• Build a Kit: Keep enough emergency supplies - water, nonperishable food, first aid, prescriptions, flashlight, and battery-powered radio on hand - for you and those in your care.

And as a special gift from me to help you with your everyday emergencies

Download this FREE .pdf ebook now from PayLoadz

Until the Ambulance Arrives

thanks to http://www.ready.gov/ for this information