I would like to introduce my readers to Jeff Dawson, author of Love’s True Second Chance. He is an author I met via the Meet Our Authors forum on Amazon’s discussion boards.
I spent the last twenty-five years in the road construction industry. I have been married and divorced once with three grown children. I started writing years ago but never took it serious until I had back surgery in 2010. During the recovery process I looked at and analyzed my life. An article in the Dallas Morning News caught my eye about public speaking. “Hey, I can do this. But what would I write?” I reflected over my life and came up with the first work “Why did Everything Happen?” As turbulent as my life has been (bankruptcy, divorce, business failures and the death of my partner, my father and Debbie), there must be others who might benefit and be able to relate to my travels but were afraid to talk about much less write them down.
Loves True Second Chance is a continuation of the first work. I wrote about the woman I had loved for over thirty years. I wanted to let people know that Love is worth a second chance even if there is a possibility of a tragic end. We packed a lifetime of love in seven short months.
I am currently working on two novels One is a paranormal story occurring during WWII. The Germans might have conquered Poland but they have awoken an enemy they could never imagine except in their darkest nightmares; Occupation. The second novel is based on the largest battle in Eastern Europe during WWII which allowed the Normandy landings to be a stunning success.
I currently live in the DFW close to two of my grown children and three wonderful grand-daughters.
Excerpt from Love’s True Second Chance:
CHAPTER 1 THE END
July 20th, 2009 7:00am I held her hand and kissed her face with the arrival of a sunny beautiful morning, hoping for a miracle. The shift change for nurses and doctors was in full swing. Staff checking in, charts being reviewed, doctors and nurses exchanging information; vital signs being verified. Debbie’s breathing is very labored as it had been for the last twenty four hours. I never knew if each breath would be her last. The cancer was running its course through her beautiful body at a terrible pace. An aide came in to change the sheets and clean her up. She asked if I would like her to wash Debbie’s hair. I pondered the thought for a minute looking at the love of my live and replied in a hushed, choked tone, “She would like that. How long will it take you to change her bed and wash her hair?” She said about fifteen minutes. I stepped out of the room and called her friend Cathey to get an estimated time of arrival. She assured me she would be at the hospital within thirty minutes.
Debbie was in good hands with the aide. I decided to get a little air, purchase a coke and have a cigarette. I went to the store with one thought running through my mind, Is there anything else I can do for her? Had I done everything I could for the “love of my life”? Would God sit by her side and let her live out her life on earth or whisper in her ear, take her hand, and guide her to heaven? I had no control over what was happening to her.