Before
I dive into the topic of Memories and Regrets, I want to give you
some good news. My newest book, Fan Mail, is available FOR
FREE on Book Funnel and you can get your copy here: https://books.bookfunnel.com/endofsummerbookblowout/enp4tnldmk
I
feel it is my strongest story to date, but you, the dispassionate, objective reader,
would know if that is true or not. I hope you get your copy soon. Please don’t
wait too long, since I don’t know how long this promotion will last. And,
please write a review and rate it on Amazon. The review doesn’t have to be long.
It can be only a sentence or two, but a review and a rating help so much with promotion
and sales. I thank you in advance for this.
Now,
Memories and Regrets …
I
think all of us have them, don’t we? The memories- the good ones- bring a smile
to our faces, maybe a laugh, while the regrets bring a shake of the head or, if
deep enough, maybe a tear. As I suggested, I think all of us have them, though
I hope the memories- the good ones- occur more, much more than the regrets.
I
think this happens more as we get older. We remember the good along with the
not so good. The things we wanted to change, perhaps needed to change, but
somehow, never could.
I
wrote this short story almost a year to the day ago. I dusted it off, tweaked
and edited it some, and I thought I would submit it for publication. You might
recognize the characters, which is why this story hits me so hard. It might hit
you, too. I hope it does, since any writing, if it is worthwhile, hits your
heart and soul.
Memories
and Regrets
by
Joseph Lewis
9-17-23
Richard made sure Jean was comfortable on the couch in
her favorite seat. A glass of iced water sat on the coaster at the end table within
her reach. Her wrinkled hands were on her lap, and she looked tired. Wheel
of Fortune with Pat and Vanna was tuned in on the TV in the small living room
with the volume on low, and it looked to Richard that Jean might doze off. He
had to hurry.
Jean hadn’t eaten much, even though it was one of her
favorite meals. Beef, small red potatoes, carrots and onions in a slow cooker,
seasoned just right. Perhaps a bit more spicey than she liked it, but Richard
ate it too, and he liked spicey anything.
He scraped what was left on her plate into the garbage,
then rinsed off both plates, cups, and silverware, and put them into the
dishwasher with the rest of the day’s dirty dishes. He put in the soap pod and
ran it so everything would be clean by morning. Then he took out the garbage to
the barrel in the back by the garage.
As was his habit each night, he ran the Swiffer around
the floor and wiped down the counters and small kitchen table. Richard wanted
everything neat and clean because he didn’t want anyone to have to clean up
after them.
He stood in the clean kitchen, made sure nothing was out
of place, and began his walk to the living.
Before he entered, he stood in the doorway with one hand
on his chest and one hand on the wall to catch his breath, and waited until the
pain abated. It didn’t last long. It used to be a now and then kind of thing,
but in the last month, certainly in the last week, it happened more frequently.
Before going to the living room, he stopped in their
bedroom. He dug around in the closet until he found the large photo album Jean
had put together in the last year with his help. They had tried to keep the
pictures in chronological order as best they could.
Before opening it, he ran his hand along the front of it.
Warm and friendly to his touch, the leather cracked and creased, but not worn
out. A tear escaped his eye, then another. Richard took out his hanky and wiped
his eyes. He couldn’t afford for that to happen in front of Jean because it
would set her off.
Rich, as Jean would call him, took a deep breath, picked
up the album, and made it to the hallway before he had to catch his breath. He
shut his eyes, willing the pain to subside, marshaling his lungs to function.
He and Jean would be asleep soon enough. But first, he wanted to go through the
album.
He smiled, nodded, and walked into the living room.
As Richard expected, Jean had dozed off, leaning her head
against the corner of the couch, her chin tucked. She had managed to pull a
blanket off the back of the couch to wrap herself in. The air conditioner was
on and it was quite comfortable. But as she got older, her tolerance to cold
and to heat had diminished.
He set the album on the end table, and walked back into
their bedroom, and got her slippers from the closet. After waking her up,
Richard knew she would ask for them.
Back in the living room, he stopped in the doorway to
gaze at Jean.
Still beautiful, though a bit wrinkly like he was. Not
nearly as toned as she used to be. An avid runner and exercise buff, she had
been forced to give that up in her sixties. Hadn’t done that in years. Now,
they walk together. Shorter now, her hair gray and cut as short as she wore it
in her younger years. Still beautiful to him. Always would be. The warmest
smile. The kindest gray-green eyes.
She always knew what she wanted and wasn’t shy about
letting Richard know. When angry, her mouth would clamp shut and her chin stuck
out a little. When that happened, look out! As forthright in older age as she
was in her younger years.
The first time they met, Jean had demanded a boy,
Garrett, be removed from her PE class. Rich was a counselor back then, and asked,
“Why?”
“Because
he’s a criminal and a liability. That’s why.”
As patiently as he could, he had explained that he
couldn’t just move a kid out of her class. He had to build a case.
Her
response was, “If something happens, it will be on your head, not mine.” After
that declaration, Jean stormed out of his office.
Not two weeks later, Jean had stormed back into the
guidance area with Garrett in tow, and marched into Richard’s office without
knocking.
“I warned you,” was all she said.
“What happened?” Richard asked.
She turned to Garrett and asked, “Do you want to tell him,
or should I?”
Head down, Garrett shrugged.
Jean shook her head and said, “He aimed a loaded bow and
arrow at another teacher.”
Richard removed Garrett from the class, and the assistant
principal suspended him for ten days.
Jean didn’t speak to Richard for a month. They would
cross paths and hardly any word was spoken. Richard would say hello and smile,
but Jean only nodded and maybe, on a good day, mutter a hello.
As time went on, Richard was intrigued by her, and thought
about her often.
A group of teachers decided to go to a comedy club on an
early fall Friday night. On a whim, Richard asked Jean if she wanted to go
along, and she smiled and said, “Sure. That would be fun.”
Fortunately,
the incident with Garrett wasn’t mentioned.
Their first official date was a baseball game the
following Sunday. Neither of them liked baseball, but didn’t tell the other. They
wanted to spend time together, but left after a couple of innings and went to a
Mexican restaurant for dinner, and shared stories and laughter, and the
getting-to-know-you kinds of things.
Movies, bicycle rides, and trips for ice cream followed. They
spoke about getting married, but there was nothing official until one day,
while leaning over the high counter of the counseling office, when Richard
said, “I suppose this is something we want to do.”
It came out of the blue. No preamble, no context. Just
the statement, “I suppose this is something we want to do.”
Her answer? “I suppose so.”
Richard
nodded and said, “I guess this is official, then.”
And
Jean answered, “I suppose so.”
Not the most of romantic of conversations that ever took
place in the history of dating. Especially when you consider it was in the
guidance area in front of Richard’s secretary, and during a drug bust. But of
and by itself, sweet, in that both of them knew what was being said or asked
without it actually being said or asked. And that typified their friendship and
their marriage of fifty-six years. They knew each other. Their likes, dislikes,
interests. Their tastes.
Richard in his nineties, and Jean in her eighties. A
ten-year difference that neither questioned. Both were adults who knew what
they were looking for back then. The only regret they had was that they hadn’t
begun dating earlier.
Jean dozed peacefully, comfortably. He hated to wake her,
but it was important to him, especially on this night.
Richard slipped her stocking feet into her fluffy slippers,
and she stirred only a little. Then he sat down next to her and gently shook
her arm. Her eyes fluttered, then opened fully.
At first, it didn’t look as though she had recognized
him. It happened more and more, and it hurt Richard, but he understood. Nothing
neither of them could do about it, anyway. It happened with age.
Then she smiled, her eyes lighting up.
Richard loved her smile. It was that picture of her he
took to bed each night, the picture he smiled at throughout the day.
“I have our album, and I thought we might look at it
together,” Richard said.
He opened it so one half was on his lap, while the other half
was on her lap.
“Is that my mom and dad?” Jean asked.
“No, sweetheart, that’s us on our wedding day.”
She frowned and bent to scrutinize the picture. “Oh, of
course. How stupid of me.”
“It’s not stupid. Back then, you looked a lot like your
mother.”
Their July wedding was hot, but fun. The rehearsal dinner
was a cookout in a park. Laughter. Games. Complete and utter embarrassment as
two friends in the bridal party roasted both Rich and Jean. But it was all in
fun.
The birth of their daughter, Elizabeth. Liz, as they
called her. A bright blond with blue eyes. Always smiling and laughing. Even to
this day.
“Is
that me as a baby or one of your sisters?”
Richard
smiled sadly and said, “No, that’s Liz.”
“She
always looked like you and your side of the family.”
Richard
nodded. Liz was more like him than Jean, though as Liz got older, she became
more like Jean and less like Richard.
The
adoption of their son, John. Small and brown, wide smile and happy. Learning
the English language from the radio and TV and from others conversing with him.
Refusing to speak Spanish, his native tongue. Stubborn that way.
“Who
is that little boy?” Jean asked with a frown.
“That’s
Johnny. He had just come to us from Guatemala.”
“He
was an artist and a soccer player.”
“Yes,
and a really talented photographer.”
And
their youngest, Ann. The tallest of their children. Smart. A quick wit, an avid
reader like her older sister. As a baby, they couldn’t make her bottles fast
enough to suit her. When she was hungry, she wanted to be fed right then and
there. And always wanting to be held. Put her down, and she would wake up and raise
a storm until she was held again.
Family trips to the cottage on a lake in the northern
woods. Tubing and swimming. Hikes and four-wheelers. S’mores around the firepit
at night. Stories and laughter. So much laughter. Academic honors and athletic
achievements. And college.
John,
of course, went to an art school to study photography. Liz went to a large
school to become a teacher like her mom and dad. Ann to a small school to play
soccer, and then to a much larger school for graduate studies to become a
social worker. Each with lives of their own now. Married with families they
fussed over, like Richard and Jean did with them.
Except for John, who died tragically. Richard didn’t want
to think about it and didn’t want Jean to dwell on it. He purposely passed over
that time in their lives. Not something he wanted to think about on this or any
other night. Especially on this night.
Vacations to the beach, the mountains. Amusement parks.
The Grand Canyon.
It saddened Richard. Jean had always wanted to go to
Hawaii, and they never made it. He had wanted to take the whole family, but they
couldn’t afford it. Now, they could never go. It was Jean’s dream and Richard
couldn’t deliver.
Yet, as they went through the album together, they
laughed and talked. Both wept, not so much in sadness, but in joy. Maybe some
tears of regret. Surely some tears of regret. Not on Jean’s part, but on
Richard’s part. He had always wanted to do more, to give more, and to please
her and the kids. Now, unable to.
The two of them closed the photo album, and Richard set
it on the coffee table. He wanted to keep it there in case the kids would want
to look through it when or if they stopped by. That didn’t happen much anymore,
and it was never enough for Richard. Still, there was always the hope that one
of both would visit. Richard was happiest when his family was all together. He
knew that in the next few days, both girls would reach for the album again and
again.
Rich slipped his arm around Jean and held her, and she
rested her head on his shoulder. He kissed her on the side of her head, near
her forehead.
“You know I love you, Jean, right?”
She smiled up at him and said, “Of course I do. I love
you too.”
“Always.”
Jean nodded and said, “Always.”
“We had a pretty good life.”
“Yes, a good life.”
He kissed her again, and she reached over the held
Richard’s hand.
They sat for a bit, chit-chatted about this or that, and finally,
with a yawn, Jean said she was tired and wanted to go to bed. Richard glanced
at his watch and was surprised it was already 9:00 p.m.
Like
their life, his life, he wondered where the time went.
He helped her off the couch and, with his arm around her
shoulders, helped her get ready for bed. All the personal things done, she
changed into her pajamas and crawled into bed. Richard sat on the side and held
her hand.
“Aren’t you coming to bed, Rich?”
He kissed her forehead, smiled at her and said, “In a
little while. There are some things I need to get done. If you’re sleeping, I
might sleep in the other room because I don’t want to disturb you.”
She looked at him questioningly, and then reached up and
caressed his cheek. “I love you, Rich. Always have.”
His heart climbed into his throat, and tears threatened
to fall. He said, “I have loved no one as much as you, Jean.”
She smiled and said, “You loved our kids, Johnny, Liz,
and Ann.”
He nodded and said, “They were the best gifts we gave
each other. But I love you so much. Nothing will change that, Jean.”
“You’re a sweet man, Rich.” And with that, she rolled
onto her side and fell asleep.
Richard remained there for a time, content to watch her.
Her breathing was steady and deep. A small smile appeared on her face. He could
sit there all night and not tire of it. And he wanted to, but he couldn’t.
He stood up slowly so as not to disturb her and shut the
door to a crack on his way out.
In the hallway, he stopped to catch his breath and wipe
away some tears with his hanky. He felt small. Jean had teased him he was
shrinking, and the doctor confirmed it. But the smallness he felt had nothing
to do with his height.
The
pain in his chest hit him, and he winced.
He shook his head. “Not yet, Lord. Give me a little more
time, please.”
Richard made his way to the desk in the kitchen, pulled
out three envelopes, and placed them on the table. He had worked long and hard,
starting and stopping, starting over. Crumpling up pages and beginning again.
All the while keeping them from Jean. It was hard to do, because he kept
nothing from her. Well, one or two things. One big thing. And only then because
he didn’t want to worry her or the kids.
He picked up his cell and phoned Ann. She told him about
her new job, a new position. Richard was proud of her. He was certain Ann would
make a difference in the world, a difference in the lives she worked with.
Head-strong and determined and stubborn, but funny. She had him laughing with
stories about her work.
She and Jaquez were on their way to Liz and Rob’s house,
and would be home in time for breakfast.
“Drive slowly, Annie. Please watch your speed. It’s late
and you have pretty far to go.”
“It’s okay, Daddy. Jaq is driving, and he drives like an
old man,” she said with a laugh.
Richard heard Jaq protesting playfully in the background.
“Just be careful.”
“I will, Daddy. I love you.”
“I love you too, Punkin.”
After hanging up, he wept. He would miss her sassy tongue
and her wit. Her smile and the way she talked with her hands.
After gathering himself together, he made another phone
call.
“Hi, Dad! What’s up?”
Liz was always so cheery, so bubbly. Richard loved her
laugh, and longed for the road-trip days when the two of them, Liz and Ann,
would sing along with the radio at the top of their lungs, complete with hand
and arm motions, almost dancing in the backseat.
He smiled at the memory.
“Daddy, are you still there?”
“Yes, Peanut. I’m here.”
“Are you okay?”
He nodded, blinked back tears, and said, “I’m okay,
Peanut.”
“Are you sure?”
“Mom and I were going through the photo album together,
and it brought back so many memories.”
“As much as you two look through it, I’m surprised it’s not
falling apart,” she laughed.
“It’s holding up just fine. I wish all the memories were
good, though.”
“What do you mean?” Ann asked, sounding worried.
“I keep thinking that I could have been a better dad to
you, and Annie and Johnny. I wasn’t the best dad to you guys.”
“I don’t know why you think that.”
“Moving you all around from job to job. You guys having
to start over. Never getting the credit for all the time and effort you put
into soccer or swimming, into your grades. I’m sorry, Peanut.”
“Daddy, we’re fine.”
“I remember one time I took you and Annie shopping for
school supplies. I can’t remember what grade, but you two were so unhappy and
disappointed. I ruined it for both of you. I’m sorry about that.”
“Daddy, that was a long time ago. It’s okay. Honest.”
As if he hadn’t heard her, he said, “I regret not being a
better father to Johnny. I was too hard on him. I regret not being there when
he died. He died alone, and no one should ever die alone.”
“Daddy, it couldn’t have been helped. If you were there,
you could have died too.”
“I never felt he liked me very much. And I loved him,
Peanut. I loved all you guys.”
“Daddy, Johnny loved you. We all did.”
Richard could hear her weeping, her voice catching.
“I just want you to know … I mean, I just need you to
believe that I tried to do the best I could. I loved you guys. I tried to be a
better father to you and Annie, because I knew I had screwed up with Johnny.”
“Daddy, don’t say that. You didn’t screw up with Johnny.
He loved you. You butted heads because he was so much like you. And Ann and I
know you love us. We’re not angry with you. We love you.”
The lump in Richard’s throat grew, almost choking him. He
squawked, “Just please know I love you. I always loved you, and I’d do anything
to fix things and make them better. If I could take back some of my words and
take back some of my actions, I would, Peanut. Please make sure you and Annie
believe that. Please?”
“Daddy, there is nothing to take back. You were a great
dad.”
She was crying now. “Daddy, are you okay? Is everything
all right?”
“Yes, Peanut. Things will be okay. I didn’t mean to upset
you. I’m sorry. It’s just that with some of the wonderful memories, there are
some pretty shitty ones, too.”
“No, Daddy. Only good ones.”
Richard groaned as the pain in his chest hit him and took
his breath away. He regained some control and knew he had to hurry.
“One last thing before I go to bed, Peanut. I know you
and Annie love your mom. Her memory is fading. Some days are good and she’s as
sharp as she ever was. Other days, she forgets. She gets tired easily. Naps
often.”
“I know. After dinner, she falls asleep on the couch in
her favorite spot.”
“Just remind her every so often that we love her. Make
sure you visit and call. She likes that.”
“I know, Dad. We do.”
“I know you do. I just don’t want you to forget.”
“We would never do that, Daddy.”
“Good. Thank you.”
“Daddy, are you sure you’re okay? Is everything all
right?”
“Yes, Peanut. Everything is as it should be.”
There was silence, not as comfortable as Richard wanted
it to be.
Liz said, “I think when Ann and Jaq get here, we’ll drive
up tonight. That way, we can surprise mom in the morning. We’ll even take you
guys out for breakfast.”
“It will be late by the time Annie and Jaq get there, and
you’re still an hour or so away.”
“We’re night owls,” Liz laughed. “We’ll try not to wake
you and mom when we get there.”
Richard nodded, and he said, “Okay, but please be
careful.”
“We will.”
“I love you, Peanut. Always and forever.”
“Always and forever.”
They ended the call, and Richard put both hands over his
eyes and sobbed. He only wanted more time. More time with Jean. More time with
Liz and Rob. More time with Annie and Jaq.
More time to laugh, to talk. To just be together. More
time.
The letters would explain what he couldn’t say out loud.
The letters would explain what he needed to say. He only hoped Liz and Annie
would understand.
Taking his time, stopping every few steps to catch his
breath and fight off the pain, Richard walked to the nearest spare room by
leaning against the wall.
He turned on the light, sat down on the bed, and kicked
off his shoes, only to bend down and straighten them. He loosened his belt and
slipped off his jeans. He unbuttoned his shirt and folded both and put them
with his shoes under the chair in the corner.
On the chair, laid out neatly, was a pressed white shirt,
a blue-striped tie, and his dark gray suit. His dress shoes and dark socks were
under the suit.
He shut the door to a crack, turned off the light, and
slipped in between the sheets.
Richard sighed. He wanted more time.
There was so much more to say. He wanted to hold Jean one
last time, maybe forever. He wanted to sit with Liz and Annie, listen to them
tell their stories, hear them laugh. He knew Jaq would take good care of Annie,
and he knew Rob would take good care of Liz. He couldn’t ask for better men for
his daughters.
Still, he wanted time to repair some of the hurt he
caused. Try to take back some words he used. He wanted to say things he should
have said, do things he should have done. Give them more. He wanted, needed, to
make sure they knew he loved them.
All he needed was a little more time.
---
Don’t we all?
I think the moral of the story, if there is one, and I
think there is, is to make time in your life for those you love. Let them know
you love them, in various ways. Do it often. I think it’s needed, especially in
the world we now find ourselves in.
Honestly
and sincerely, we never know when someone will leave this world, leave our
lives, and you don’t want the regret of not mentioning you love them, how much
you love them, and not remembering when you did so last. Don’t let this happen
to you. Please. Something to think about …
Live
Your Life, and Make A Difference!
To
My Readers:
Connect
with me on Social Media:
BRAND
NEW! Author Website at: https://www.jrlewisauthor.com
Author
Blog at: https://www.jrlewisauthor.blog
Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/Joseph.Lewis.Author
Instagram at: https://www.Instagram.com/joseph.lewis.author
Amazon at: http://www.amazon.com/Joseph-Lewis/e/B01FWB9AOI /
As I mentioned at the beginning, Fan Mail is now
available FOR FREE and it can be found at Book Funnel and at this
link: https://books.bookfunnel.com/endofsummerbookblowout/enp4tnldmk
Fan Mail: A Reader’s Favorite Silver Book Award Winner! A Maxy Award
Finalist, an Eric Hoffer Award Nominee, and a Literary Titan Silver Book Award
Winner!
A
barrage of threatening letters, a car bomb, and a heart attack rip apart what
was once a close-knit family of adopted brothers. Randy and Bobby, along with
fellow band member and best friend, Danny, receive fan mail that turns
menacing. They ignore it, but to their detriment. The sender turns up the heat.
Violence upends their world. It rocks the relationship between the boys and
ripples through their family, nearly killing their dad.
As
these boys turn on each other, adopted brother Brian flashes back to that event
in Arizona where he nearly lost his life saving his brothers. The scars on his
face and arms healed, but not his heart.
Would
he once again have to put himself in harm’s way to save them? And if faced with
that choice, will he?
Fan Mail is a coming-of-age
story embedded in a tight thriller-mystery. It is told through Brian’s eyes,
who holds his brothers and his family, first and foremost, in his heart. This
time, it might cost him his life.
You can leave a rating and review at this link after
you read it: https://amzn.to/3eNgSdS
My other books in order of most recent to
oldest:
Blaze In, Blaze Out: Best Action Crime Thriller of 2022 by Best
Thrillers! A Literary Titan Gold Book Award Winner! A Readers’ Favorite Award
Winner! A Reader’s Ready Recommended Read! A BestThriller’s Editor’s Pick!
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Eiselmann
and O’Connor thought the conviction of Dmitry Andruko, the head of a Ukrainian crime family, meant the end. It was only the beginning.
They forgot that revenge knows no boundaries, vindictiveness knows no
restraints, and ruthlessness never worries about collateral damage.
Andruko hired contract killers to go after and kill O’Connor and Eiselmann.
The
killers can be anyone and be anywhere. They can strike at any time. They care
nothing of collateral damage. Andruko believes a target is a target, and in the
end, the target must die. https://amzn.to/34lNllP
Betrayed: Two Top Shelf Awards: 1st Place
Fiction-Mystery; and Runner-Up Fiction-Crime; A PenCraft 1st Place
Winner for Thriller-Fiction! A Maxy Award Runner-Up for Mystery/Suspense! A
Literary Titan Silver Book Award Winner! A Reader’s Ready Recommended Read
Award Winner! A Reader’s Favorite Honorable Mention Award Winner for
Fiction-Crime-Mystery!
Betrayed is Now Available in Audio Book, Kindle and
Paperback! https://amzn.to/3AfUUpS
A
late-night phone call, a missing kid, a murdered family, but no one is talking.
A promise is made and kept, but it could mean the death of a fifteen-year-old
boy. Greed can be all-consuming, and seeing is not believing. No one can be
trusted, and the hunters become the hunted. https://amzn.to/2EKHudx
Spiral Into Darkness: Named a Recommended Read in the Author Shout Reader Awards!
Would
you recognize a serial killer if one spoke to you? Vincent and Shirley didn’t,
and now they’re dead!
He
blends in, is successful, intelligent, and methodical. So far, he has murdered
eight people. There is no discernible pattern, no clues, and no leads. The only
thing the FBI and local police have to go on is the method of death: two
bullets to the face- gruesome and meant to send a message. But it’s difficult
to understand any message coming from a dark and damaged mind. Two adopted
boys, struggling in their own world, do not know they are the next targets, and
neither does their family or local law enforcement. https://amzn.to/2RBWvTm
Caught in a Web: A PenCraft Literary Award Winner! Named “One of the Best
Thrillers of 2018!” by BestThrillers.com
Caught in a Web is also available in Audio Book, Kindle and
Paperback! http://bit.ly/2WO3kka
They
found the bodies of high school and middle school kids dead from an overdose of
heroin and fentanyl. A violent gang, MS-13, controls the drug trade along the
I-94 and I-43 corridors. They send Ricardo Fuentes to find out who is cutting
in on their business, shut it down and teach them a lesson. But he has an
ulterior motive: find and kill a fifteen-year-old boy, George Tokay.
Detectives
Jamie Graff, Pat O’Connor and Paul Eiselmann race to find the source of the
drugs, shut down the ring, and find Fuentes before he kills anyone else. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07CKF7696
The Lives Trilogy Prequel, Taking Lives:
FBI
Agent Pete Kelliher and his partner search for the clues behind the bodies of
six boys left in various and remote parts of the country. Even though they live
in separate parts of the country, the lives of Kelliher, 11-year-old Brett
McGovern, and 11-year-old George Tokay are separate pieces of a puzzle. The two
boys become interwoven with the same thread Kelliher holds in his hand. The
three of them are on a collision course and when that happens, their futures
grow dark as each search for a way out. https://amzn.to/34nXBH5
Book One, Stolen Lives: Editor’s Pick by
BestThrillers! Literary Titan Gold Book Award Winner! A Crime Thriller
finalist in the 2021 Best Thriller Book Awards!
Two
thirteen-year-old boys are abducted off a safe suburban street. Kelliher and
his team of FBI agents have 24 hours to find them or they will end up like the
other kids they found- dead! They have no leads, no clues, and nothing to go
on. To make the investigation that much tougher, Kelliher suspects that one of
his team members might be involved. https://amzn.to/3oMo4qZ
Book Two of the Lives Trilogy, Shattered Lives:
The
boys are home, but now they have to fit back in with their families and
friends. Their parents and the FBI thought the boys were safe. They were until
people began dying. Now the hunt is on for six dangerous and desperate men who
vow revenge. With no leads and nothing to go on, the FBI can only sit back and
wait. A dangerous game that threatens not only the boys, but their
families. https://amzn.to/2RAYIk2
Book Three of the Lives Trilogy, Splintered Lives:
Three
dangerous men with nothing to lose offer a handsome reward to anyone willing to
kill fourteen-year-old Brett McGovern. He does not know that he, his younger
brother, and a friend are targets. More than anyone, these three men vow to
kill George, whom they blame for forcing them to run and hide. A fun vacation
turns into a nightmare and ends where it started, back on the Navajo Nation
Reservation, high on a mesa held sacred by George and his grandfather.
Outnumbered and outgunned, George will make the ultimate sacrifice to protect
his adoptive father and his adoptive brothers- but can he? Without knowing who
these men are? Or where they are? Without knowing whom to trust? Is he prepared
for betrayal that leads to his heartbreak and death? http://bit.ly/SplinteredLives
Photos
courtesy of Joseph Lewis
