On The Make is Book 3 in my latest series, Brothers In Blue. Four heroes who met at the police academy and became life long friends. The dropout, the straight arrow, the movie star and the maverick. All share a passion to serve and protect, each in their own unique way.
A while back on these pages, February 11 to be exact, I shared the first five paragraphs of On The Make, along with a plea for help in getting the words right. At that time, I had essentially five paragraphs of introspection and very little dialogue. Since the story opens at a funeral, and deals with my heroine’s reaction to being there with her two sons, many of my ROP buds thought maybe I needed to lighten the prose up a bit.
Now back from the drawing board, this is what I’ve come up with.
“Let us pray.”
Madison Clark dutifully lowered her head, along with scores of others in the huge, impersonal auditorium. In her case, more for show than reverence. Who held a funeral at a place like this? The Greater Metro Conference and Convention Center. Then again, nothing about her marriage to Joe, short as it was, could be construed as normal. Why should anything change now that he was gone?
“Dear Lord, we commit Joseph Eugene Edward Ralls, this once earthly soul, to your able and compassionate care.”
Dear Lord. Please don’t let him run into Dave.
Despite the solemn nature of the occasion, she couldn’t hold off invading memories of a previous life changing event. Hard to believe three short years earlier she’d buried one husband, the love of her life and soulmate, with her young sons, and his, on either side of her.
“Almighty God, we ask that you grant those of us left behind the guidance to understand and the patience to accept your decision.”
The minister’s voice invaded her thoughts. Keeping her head down, she shifted her hips more snuggled in the plush stadium style chair and sat straighter. A mere thirty six months later, front and center in the jam-packed amphitheater, she prepared to bury spouse number two.
Back when their father died, Dak, the sensitive one, sobbed so loudly during a solo of Amazing Grace, he drowned out the lyrics. At eight, he was old enough to understand and process the chaos of event since his father’s unexpected, and lethal, leukemia diagnosis. While not able to make sense of it at all. Cameron, two years older, and already stoic and long suffering like his dad, hadn’t moved a muscle during the entire service.
Much as he was now.
“In your name we pray. Amen.”
“Amen.” Madison murmured the response along with so many others in the room.
As all their heads came up as a single unit, her thoughts remained on her two boys.
Now older and more mature, each exhibited no more emotion than simple boredom as the accolades went on and on for their mother’s late husband.
Okay now. Be honest. I can take it. Does this work or no? The story does lighten up from there. I promise.
My days to blog here are the 11 and 23. For more about me and the stories I write, please visit my WEBSITE