Snippet Sunday and Weekend Writing Warriors

 Welcome to my blog. Today I'd like to share an excerpt from my all time favorite book Blue 52. On Sunday when you finish here you can go to www.wewriwa.blogspot.com for more excerpts from a talented group of authors. 

Blurb:

First Lady Kills President Lovinggood" 

December 5, 2018 

Thirty years later, Hank Lovinggood embarks on a quest to prove his mother's innocence and punish the killers who took his family from him. Together Hank and lovely physicist Dr. Kathryn Sinclair confront an implacable, twisted, and merciless enemy who'll do whatever it takes to hide the truth forever.

Last Week's Excerpt: 

As Tim vanished, the senator gave a brief, inward sigh. He had recruited Tim ten years ago and had regretted it many times. Tim had expected an exciting life in Washington; instead, he had gotten a quiet life in California with a senator who seldom even went to Washington anymore, not unless there was a vote he didn’t want to miss. He made his displeasure known in countless little ways. I guess I should replace him, but why bother? I’m retiring in eighteen months.

The senator heaved himself to his feet and shuffled across the study. Damned arthritis; I move like an old man, and my snot-nosed kid of a doctor had the gall to lecture me about my attitude. “You should be glad you aren’t crippled,” Grant had scolded. “Thirty years ago you wouldn’t be walking at all. You’d also be in severe pain.”

What did Grant know? He’d complain if he wanted to.

He sat down behind his desk and stared at a conspicuously displayed photo of his son, Richard. The photo had been taken on inauguration day. Richard’s wife Elizabeth stood at his side, looking so beautiful that even now it made his heart ache to see her.

Her face glowed with pride and happiness. How could anyone believe that two years later she would kill Richard and take her own life? “They’re all wrong,” he muttered as he made a gesture of repugnance. “I don’t care what anyone says; she did not shoot him.”

Today's Excerpt:

He removed a well-worn scrapbook from its place in the bottom drawer, caressing its smooth, cool surface. When he opened the scrapbook, Richard’s face laughed up at him. The photo had been taken right after his grandson, Hank, was born. This was exactly the way he remembered Richard, laughing and happy, his eyes alight with life and promise.

The whole family had celebrated Hank’s birth. Richard and Elizabeth had tried for years to have a baby. They had seen a lot of fertility specialists, but they’d almost given up hope when Elizabeth found out she was pregnant with Hank. Oh, yeah, he’d never forget those days. “The king of the world,” he muttered. “I felt like the king of the world.”

He turned the pages one by one as he had done so many times before. No matter how often he looked at the scrapbook, he never grew tired of it. Pausing on page five, he studied one of his favorite pictures. It had been taken on Richard and Elizabeth’s wedding day. I’m ninety-eight years old now, and I’ve never seen two people as much in love as they were.

The little half smile on his face faded as his old eyes glazed. It can’t be too much longer before I see Richard again; I can’t wait to find out what really happened that night. He supposed his faith required him to forgive whoever had murdered his son and daughter-in-law, but he daily prayed the perpetrator would burn in hell forever.