Available on AMAZON! Link: www.amazon.com/dp/1736720600
|
With Fragile, Mike has taken his degree in psychology and combined it with his engaging style of writing creating the character Rex Logan, a counseling therapist that lives aboard his sailboat in Key West. While counseling patients, Rex finds himself intertwined in their lives as he goes about solving a larger mystery. Fragile is the first in the series, the second is the soon to be released, At first A Ripple.
You can follow Mike at |
Copyright 2020 © by Michael R. Denney
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written consent of the publisher except
for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover design by Germancreative
First Printing 2021
ISBN: 978-1-7367206-0-8
Michael R. Denney
Mikedenneymusic.com
All persons fictitious disclaimer:
This book is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated
the names characters and situations within its pages are either
the product of the author’s imagination or used in a
fictitious manner.
Any names used that happen to match the name of a real person
is either coincidental or intended as a compliment.
Acknowledgments
I’d like to express my gratitude to some of the people that impacted the writing of Fragile. Some directly and others in a more round about manner but all very special to me.
My wife of twenty eight wonderful years, Nancy. Your inner strength and love of life and God has been inspiring to me in ways far beyond writing. The mornings are more hopeful and the sunsets more thankful with you in them.
My mother and father, Earl and Libby. I could fill a book with the moving and colorful stories of your lives as the memories of you are so lovingly etched in my mind. Thank you both for your love and friendship and of course your frequently tested patience.
My brothers and sisters, Earl, Doug, Dorinda, and Patricia. We are all so very different yet so much alike. Life has been a little easier because of you and a whole lot more exciting.
My brother in law, Patrick McCullah, patiently taught me to play the guitar and encouraged me to sing when I was a kid. In time, the gift he gave me went from altering the course of my life to steering it.
Jerry Cain, was at first a family friend then a personal friend and musical confidant. I’ve never met anyone that didn’t think as much of him as I do. Wishing you all the best, “Mr. Mayor”.
Rachel Knopf Waxer, has been a huge help in providing wise and strategic counsel as we neared the release of Fragile. Thank you, Rachel!
My buddy, Rick Ferrell. Just putting up with me for thirty years is noteworthy but so is the fact that he hounded me until I finally wrote a novel.
My friends in Jacksonville Florida, my home for most of my life and the setting for this book. Most every good thing I think about people has its roots in having known you.
Dedications
I’d like to dedicate Fragile to my friend and brother, Douglas Lester Denney and to all who dwelt in that little concrete block house on Bridgewater Circle.
Prologue
The mind is an enigma both steel and diamond strong.
Powerful as a stallion fragile as a fawn.
by Devin Logan
_________________________
I was driving with my senses on high alert, for it had been twenty years since I’d been back to my hometown. That spot on the earth was for me memory central. The people, the places, the moments, were the primordial soup from which I emerged. It was the earthly womb that held and bore me.
Some memories are so pleasant that we visit them from time to time to taste again the sweetness of their moment. Others seem to come and go stopping in occasionally simply to remind us of who we were. And there are a few memories so painful that we do our merciful best to hide them from ourselves.
But memories have one thing in common, they are all uniquely our own. They are painted upon the fabric of our minds by the artist in us all. At times the realist controls the brush capturing the moments with almost photographic clarity. At other times, the impressionist interprets things filling the canvas with imagery and uncertainty. I was about to enter the gallery where the images of my early life hung.
It wasn't long before the familiar skyline greeted me like an old friend. A few miles later images of the past began to flash before me. In my mind's eye, I saw faces I hadn't seen in years. Every turn conjured moments of exchanges with friends and family all arriving in a flood of varied emotion.
As I drew closer to the place of my birth, passing by the homes of childhood friends, the scenes became more vivid as if transforming from black and white to color. The spots I once frequented had me standing in them dressed as I would have been. Familiar voices of children and adults laughing and crying filled the air. Flowing from my memory were the sounds of secrets whispered between friends, my dog barking, and the creek-side frogs singing like unrehearsed children.
I was embraced by the past as it all came rushing toward me with open arms. As if I had slipped partially through a black hole, I was in two worlds, then and now. Suddenly, from behind me the honk of a horn brought me back. How long, I wondered, had I been at that stop sign? I rounded the corner and pulled onto the grass at the house that used to be my home.
Sitting there I wondered, what would I discover on this retro journey? I was fully aware that lurking behind the joyful introduction to a time already lived, might lay hidden hurting parts of me. Am I the foolhardy archaeologist digging up things for digging's sake? Are some things best left buried? Is my innocent curiosity, my nosing around in settled affairs going to up end my life or give it a sense of meaning and closure?
Suddenly, a pall came over me as I recalled why I was in Jacksonville at all. I hadn't come here to be a tomb raider, I thought, I came because St. Luke’s Hospital is here.
The door was instantly slammed on the portal to my past as I was thrust heartlessly into the present. Tomorrow, I will be face to face with the cold unfiltered truth of the here and now.