This post is shameless marketing, I confess. kd Grace informs me that her best and oldest friends are calling to sing the praises of her book. “It’s as if you were in the room telling me the story!”
As kd’s editor, these comments are music to my ears. Suffering from the debilitating effects of M.S., kd gave me Carte Blanche to “fix the damned thing,” as she said. So I did. Then I worried if that my tinkering and fixing might have killed her unique and seize-life-by-the-lapels-voice. Apparently not. kd and I are both pleased with the results.
If you’d like an exciting summer read, the book, linked in my sidebar, is available in paperback, Kindle, and Nook versions. kd is contributing all proceeds to the National M.S. Society. The book is a bargain and by purchasing a copy you will be contributing to a great cause! Enjoy!
******************************************************** From Chapter 6, The Hotel
I go quietly down the stairs, which makes me take note that I have not seen an elevator in this joint. I quickly dismiss that and let the hairs on my neck go back down. I drop the towel near to the pool on the side opposite from the gawking windows and slide into the cool, delicious water. It is like heaven, being surrounded and supported by the water. I stay very close to the side where my towel is located. I come up from the bottom of the pool to hear chatter coming from the window side. I am being watched by the seventeen heads, but I do not see David or the Mayor in the bunch. The heads are now clapping and my heart is pounding as I race for the towel. All the heads that were behind the glass are now poolside, yelling at me to swim. There is a table with chairs close to the pool. Somebody jumps up on the table while flailing his hands in the air like a mad person. “I love you. I want you! Please, I am rich! Marry me, please marry me!” The boys are clapping and screaming his name, “Carlos, Carlos!”
I fly out of the pool, turn and grab my towel, and run for the stairs. I am running as I watch the scene. Carlos loses it when I get out of the pool. He jumps off the table and pushes it into the pool. Then he takes a running leap onto the sinking table and continues to yell, “Marry me! I am rich!” as it sinks to the bottom, overturning as it disappears. The heads are wild — screaming and yelling. Carlos is now pounding the water and gasping for air. My brief assessment of the matter is that he clearly can’t swim. Now his head is under water. The guy is in panic mode. The screaming sound from the heads changes to: Oh my God, the guy is drowning! Two guys jump into the pool as I hit the stairs, running as hard as I can. Drowning Carlos has saved my life.