Title:
Society of Benevolent Strangers
Author: LA
Parker
LA Parker Bio
Between stints as a lion tamer and exotic dancer, LA Parker
earned a degree in Art History from the University of Delaware.
After a harrowing experience excavating ancient ruins along
the Amazon, she earned a second degree in Computer Science from East Carolina
University.
Dabbling in the art of lying for fun and profit, she has
published three works of fiction: Against
the Grain, Stella's Sheets and
Society of Benevolent Strangers.
Settling for a quieter life, LA is currently residing in
North Carolina with her husband, son and dog, Tony, Zach and Max the Bandit,
where she is happily dreaming up more fantastical and phenomenal lies for your
entertainment.
Links
Facebook: www.facebook.com/LAParker
www.facebook.com /SBSaNovel
Goodreads:http://www.goodreads.com/search?utf8=%E2%9C%93&query=society+of+benevolent+strangers
Tags: contemporary romance, second chances, Kenya, Aid
Workers, hope diamond, peace crane, Lake Baringo
Rafflecopter Code:
Book Genre:
Contemporary Romance/Adventure
Publisher: indie
Release Date: September 6, 2014
Buy Link(s): http://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/1499517157?pc_redir=1409554888&robot_redir=1
BOOK BLURB
Dr. Kathryn Hastings felt the
tremor in her fingers and hastily dropped the scalpel back on the tray. Her
career as a neurosurgeon had just ended. One slip and her patient would have
come out of surgery a different man than when he went in.
On the advent of her thirtieth high school reunion, with her
life at a crossroads, Kate finds herself dwelling on the past and choices she
made--particularly those having to do with Clayton Beech. Desperately needing
to find a new calling and to correct past mistakes Kate sets out on a journey
that takes her from North Carolina to London, from Paris to Kenya.
Longer Description:
From a clinical perspective, Dr. Kate Hastings found acquiring a disease
she had been treating for over twenty years fascinating. Emotionally it was
terrifying. Especially when her access to the operating room was curtailed
and her colleague has drastically cut her patient load.
The life-altering diagnosis coincides with Kate’s thirty-year high
school reunion, a reunion that has Kate reminiscing about her first love and
her plans to have Clayton Beech by her side through the rigors of med
school, a lengthy surgical residency and the rest of her life.
An idealistic Clayton Beech, an expert in languages, a player of jazz piano
and football, dreamed of saving the world. Exploring this calling, he signed on
for a stint with the Peace Corp. Clay planned a life of service, always with
Kate by his side.
However, futures cannot be planned. Neurosurgeons get sick, lovers leave
with no explanation and saving the world might best be done alone.
A no-show at the reunion, Kate discovers Clay is the head of an
important healthcare organization in East Africa. With time on her hands
and the growing conviction that they should have always been together Kate
follows his trail to London. It is in London that she discovers that it was she
not Clay who made a serious mistake that destroyed their dreams.
After almost thirty years their lives are continents apart. Can Kate find a
way to correct past wrongs? Can she merge into the life they should have had
although Clay is adamant that he has no time to take her on safari and does not
want her in Africa?
With the sole responsibility for a large NGO weighing on his broad
shoulders and wanting to be with Kate weighing on his heart Dr. Clayton Beech
knows that until he makes the most difficult decision of his life, neither
weight can be lifted. Until he makes that decision, Kate is a distraction he
just cannot afford.
*****
Excerpt 1
Sitting in the airport,
waiting to board her flight to London, trying to quell the butterflies in her
stomach, Kate pulled out the envelope that Mrs. Lautenberg had handed her. It
had been shoved to the bottom of her travel bag and forgotten until she
discovered it while packing for Europe and decided to save it for something to
do on the long overseas trip. Carefully, Kate ripped the seal open and slid the
contents out.
Sorting through odds and
ends, Kate discovered a postcard she had sent her father from her first summer
camp when she was eleven. Ticket stubs from the last play they had gone to see
in New York City, Le Miz. A photo of
the two of them at the Deer Park, she remembered Paul, the bartender, snapping
it on her twentieth birthday; they looked happy. Other pictures were of Evan
Hastings over the years with grad students and colleagues she barely
remembered.
A woman with a familiar
face surrounded by curly dark hair, holding an infant, smiled up from a black
and white Polaroid, gone sepia with age. Kate smiled at the picture, the face
mirroring her own. Hi, Mom.
After a moment, she
leafed through the rest of the stack. There was a packet of slit envelopes
containing letters from colleagues. Kate recognized names but had never met
them and did not bother to read their notes. The last letter in the stack was
addressed to Kathryn Hastings c/o Dr. Evan Hastings, the script clear and
familiar. The return address had been water damaged and was illegible. The
stamp was from the Dominican Republic. She turned the envelope over slowly and
looked at the seal.
A chill crept up her
spine and her heart started to thump hard in her chest. As far as Kate could
tell, the letter had never been opened.
Her hand shook as she
tried to use a fingernail to slit the dry, aged paper. She stretched her
fingers, willing away the tremor and taking a deep breath. She finally got her
fingertip wedged under the corner and ripped the envelope across the top. One
page of notebook paper, folded into a neat rectangle, had been tucked inside.
Slowly, Kate unfolded the paper, smoothed it carefully, and then read the
handwriting she still recognized after so many years.
Dear Kitty-Kate,
I know you think that
because my plans are more recent, yours should take priority. Believe me I
heard you loud and clear, and I understand, but that doesn’t make mine any less
important.
I have been pulled in
the direction of the Peace Corp and the REAL work I could do there, and pulled
toward you, to the most love and admiration I have ever felt for another human
being. I have no doubt those two forces can move in the same direction. I can
follow my calling and still be with you as you follow yours.
We can do it together.
Just as we planned.
Calling. Does that
sound corny? I cannot think of a better way to express how I have felt the last
few months. I have read that people believe they are called to the ministry, to
politics, to teaching. This is my calling.
You set me on this
path and I am following it without fear or hesitation. It feels right. Like
medicine, your calling, feels right to you. I know you understand.
Working with the
foreign students really opened my eyes. Until now, my life has been narrow and
safe, and too damn easy. Writing that, I notice that easy is a four-letter word. For many people,
life is not easy, or just, or safe, or free. Lots of four letter words. For
many, life is barely survivable.
I think everyone
should be given the chance to survive. At the very least.
There is so much I
need to ask you about the choice you made. Maybe your leaving me was right, but
it doesn’t feel right. I only hope it’s not too late. It was just a stupid
argument. I don’t understand why you left without telling me.
But I don’t care. I
want to make it work for both of us. Whatever I have to do, I am prepared to do
it. Just tell me what it is. I know I can make do without most things, but the
one thing I can never give up is you. And I desperately need your love to
sustain me on my life’s journey.
Please write back.
Please. We can work this out. You are the love of my life.
Always and forever,
Clay
As she finished the letter, the call came over the intercom for
first-class passengers to begin boarding. Tears filled Kate’s eyes as she
stumbled through the gate onto the plane. She quickly settled into her seat,
whispered water when the flight
attendant asked quietly if she needed anything. And then she read the letter
all over again.
His words did not make any sense at all.
How could he have written this letter? Nothing he had written made
any sense.
Clay was blaming her.
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