I’m happy to announce that The Progression is now available again! It has a lovely new cover by Robert Steele and has been re-edited. The Infection (Book One) came back out May 1 of this year and I’m hoping to get The Cohesion (Book Three) out before Christmas. I’ll have a cover reveal soon!
The Infection is on sale for $.99 to get you ready for The Progression, August 1-5, so check it out!
August is a good month for writing for me – it’s the book birthday for Mac’s Family, Red Shoes and Small Changes. Maybe it’s the heat because I don’t go outside when it’s that hot and therefore get more done.
Meg Adams left the meeting with a profound sense of depression. She hadn’t spent much time with Dr. Sutton, Amanda, as things got busier and none with her partner, David Morrow, but to know they had really left, escaped, along with Joe Dula who had worked here long before her, made all of the hardships more real. She straightened her shoulders and took a steadying breath.
She would handle this too, she had no choice, but she would miss Amanda’s friendship and support. She’d been glad to be here at the CDC when the pandemic broke out. She’d accepted the safety of the place, the security of the vaccine. Amanda had been the only doctor to really talk to her and the staff, explaining things to them as if they too were important to the project. Meg had listened to Amanda in several meetings, her passionate attempts to get some relief for Meg’s group falling short. Would anyone speak up for them now? Would they listen to her?
It was almost funny, she had been the office manager, not head of facilities, and she knew nothing about plumbing except to stop her toilet from running at what used to be her apartment. Now she supervised such a variety of skills it was a joke. Goodness knew she understood responsibility. She’d had to take charge for as long as she could remember, but this . . . Fortunately her group didn’t need a lot of hands on from her. They understood what was really happening and kept at it.
But for how long?
It wasn’t like a paycheck meant anything anymore. There was nothing to buy. Food and shelter were all that mattered, despite what the officials said. Those two items were about the only things that kept people here for now.
The powerful men that had come down from DC were taking over. She supposed that was what they did best, but they would have been more help outside of meetings. Connor Nash, from South Carolina was troubling, though she couldn’t put her finger on why exactly. She knew nothing about his background or politics but something about him scared her. Looking into his eyes had been like looking into the eyes of the shark at the aquarium, empty, and somehow malevolent. He had his little entourage of fellow congressmen, Leonard Burton and Elsworth Keithley and their aides. They were about the same age and thought alike. There was trouble coming and Meg couldn’t see a way to stop it, because she couldn’t see what it would be.
A movement caused her to look down the hall. She brushed her curly dark hair out of her face to get a better look. A man in military fatigues observed her. He had the short military cut to his dark hair but at this distance she could make out few details. He did look muscular, strong. Meg’s lungs refused to function for an instant. There was no one else around. She was vulnerable. Had she seen him before? As her breath returned she felt herself calm, his stance wasn’t menacing as much as protective. Or was she naive? Who was he?