Her name is Emery Shaw...Emily Sanders...Emma Simpson. Her family was well off, she ran. They looked for her, she hid. They found her, she ran again. Tragedy strikes, she gets even. The fact is, she doesn't know who she is, she tried to run, to hide and make a life for herself, but that backfired. No one knows her except her best friend, Rachel, if that's even an adequate word for what they are to each other. Rachel helps her build a life for herself below the radar, which is fine until the unthinkable happens, knocking Em out of her unfeeling cocoon. When her house of cards comes tumbling down she runs again, until the one person who can change her mind finds her. **Due to adult situations, language and possible scenarios that may be difficult for some readers to take...take a breath before you start this one. It's gritty and not pretty. Nothing is pretty here. Whiskey is a good thing.**
I wrote a book once about a girl that ripped me apart. I lived and breathed her world for six months and finally felt the grip of fear leave me once it was published. (Sort of)
I wrote a book one time that almost didn’t get finished or published. A book that wore me down and made my emotions rise to the surface of my skin. A book that still means so much to me I cannot read it again. I will not read it again. That book made me look at the world through an entirely unfamiliar lens and changed my perspective.
I wrote a book once that had a ray of light so faint it could hardly be seen. That light for Emery and me was Lucas, a kid with autism, that helped save Emery from despair and from herself. This book is full of hard things and he was one of the most joyous characters I’ve ever written even though he came from such a disastrous beginning.
I wrote a book once that changed me.
In light of the fact it is Autism awareness month I’ve decided to put Razorblade Kisses, that book, on sale for $.99 for the last weekend in April. All royalties I receive from April 29-30 will go to the Autism Society of Georgia, Lucas lived in Georgia. Those royalties will be paid in July of 2016 and I will update everyone with what the results were at that point.
In an effort to help spread the word I’m going to give away a $25.00 amazon gift card on May 1, 2016. All you have to do to enter is share this post and tag me, R.L. Griffin on whatever social media platform you use. Here are my links:
On that Saturday night, Emery was driving like a bat out of hell to get to the hospital. It was 2:12 am when she received the call and she’d left her house immediately pulling on boots and a sweater she found on the floor of her closet over her pajamas. She was hoping to make it to Savannah General within twenty minutes. The cops had called her because she was Lucas’s DFCS case worker and he’d “been in an accident.”
“Hi. I’m here for Lucas Lord,” she spat out as she ran into the ER, breathing hard. “Lucas Lord.” Emery showed her DFCS ID. “I’m his caseworker.”
A male police officer approached her and nodded at her. “I’ll take you back,” the officer said, and his voice made the hairs of her arms stand on end. She dismissed it and followed
him quickly through the lobby back through the doors and into the ER.
She didn’t like hospitals, but wanted to make sure Lucas was okay. Emery’s eyes went from room to room, searching for Lucas.
She saw the little boy lying on a bed to the right and ran past the officer to get to him. He looked younger than eleven and she wanted to hold him. Throwing down her bag and files
on the floor, she hugged the frail little boy.
“Lucas, are you okay? You had me driving around like the Flash,” she said, exasperated. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw his jaw and ear. His hands started moving around wildly, signing. He told her he was okay, but that Jerry had pushed him into a book-
shelf and he’d fallen.
“That doesn’t look like a fall face,” she said. “That looks like a punch face.”
He hesitated and his eyes left hers, looking at something behind her. She turned and saw him looking at the cop.
“Look.” She pointed at her face. “You’re okay. Tell me what happened.”
His eyes closed and signed that Jerry and his mother were drunk and Lucas kept telling them he needed to eat. It was ten at night and he hadn’t eaten since lunch at school the day
before. So Jerry punched him in the face just a couple times. It broke her heart that Lucas phrased it as “just a couple times.” Emery stepped to the side and looked away so that Lucas
wouldn’t see the anguish on her face. She wouldn’t cry in front of this kid who was so strong. She examined the officer’s black uniform shoes. They were shiny, standard issue. Taking
a breath, she leaned over Lucas. “I’m going to hug you now,” she declared.
Lucas smiled and nodded at her. She hugged him. He signed for her to sit next to him on the bed.
“You got it.” She leaned down and pulled off her UGG boots, leaving her Wonder Woman socks on, and crawled in Lucas’s face threatened to break in two with the size of his
grin when he saw her socks. He pointed at them enthusiastically. She smoothed his hair.
“Ma’am? Can you tell me what he just told you? We’ve been having a difficult time getting him to talk to us.”
Emery barely acknowledged the officer. “You would because he doesn’t talk.”