 HOME AND EMAILHEALER'S DAUGHTERFRIKKEN JUSTICEPRINCE OF TEXASVIRTUAL BOOKSIGNINGWRITER'S BOOKSHELF |
  Ms. Gambrell is writing on the edge and breaking all the rules... With her, no secret is safe and no subject is sacred!
Stained glass artist Abecka Blackmore thought she was safe on Long Cane. Safe from Judson, her faith healing stepfather and his sinister brand of salvation, safe from the tortured dreams and memories of her childhood and now that Clayton had come back into her life she was beginning to realize a future she had only dreamed of. But God's Rolling Thunder Tent Revival was about to go on the road again and she had a choice to make-go with it or lose Long Cane . . . and the child.
Healer’s Daughter is a tale of unexpected surprises, unlikely heroes and unusual backdrops. Ms Gambrell brooches subjects many authors avoid for fear of violating readers sensitivities but this author embraces those subjects and confronts them head on. La’Nelle Gambrell’s voice as a Southern writer shines in this book!
A handsome hero, a take-charge heroine, a jewel of a setting . . . they all come together in Healer’s Daughter to provide the reader with a captivating story! I can’t wait to see more from this author!
Healer’s Daughter offers a suspenseful story of renewal and hope. It is both believable and enjoyable! Though set in modern times, it has a gentler feel, harkening to times past and delivering grittier subjects without being graphic. Hopefully this is an author we will be seeing more of in the future!
"Abecka, please, give it a rest . . ." Anne shook her head tiredly and looked out at the passing scenery. "I was going to stop by Friday and talk to him before I picked you up. But when I drove by his truck was gone. I'll catch him tomorrow though if I have to track him down." She looked over at Anne in the passenger seat, bowing her head and closing her eyes in mock benediction. "You just don’t understand how it feels to finally have my life back, to be able to wake up and know that this day is going to be just as great as the day before. To know that Julianna and I will never have to worry about Judson, ever again." "No, I know I don’t." Anne smiled over at Abecka. "And for that reason alone, I think I love Clayton almost as much as you do, still, if I hear his name once more on this trip I think I’ll-" "OK, OK . . . not another word about Clayton." "Seems like I've heard that somewhere before." Anne mumbled. The Blazer sped along Highway 281 heading south to Brazelton. The San Antonio River Walk Art Show some three hours behind them. Low, undulating hills of farmland and sparse cattle country rolled by. Stately oak and scraggly cedar, stunted cactus and gnarled Mesquite, white sand and gray caliche alternately spattered the canvas that was South Texas. A graphic depiction of hard times past and perhaps harder times to come. A Roadrunner raced the fence row and disappeared into the prickly pear undergrowth. A black and white Caracara sat on a split-rail fence eyeing the small, flat carcass of a sun-dried road kill, his cousins circling above. "Well, how does it feel to be a professional artist?" Abecka broke the stillness. "Oh about the same as it did when I was an amateur. Do you think selling two paintings qualifies me as a professional now?" Anne chuckled. "According to the IRS, yes." "Well in that case I'll keep up with my receipts, both of them. But really, I’m glad you talked me into taking some of my work. I would never have had the guts to do it otherwise and as soon as I get back from my trip I'm going to get busy on some new pieces. I'm hooked now." "I just wanted you to see that your work is every bit as good as some of the regulars on the art show circuit. I knew if they could sell, you would certainly be able to. You need to have more confidence in your work, Anne. You're really good." "Well I always thought you were just being your regular gracious self, handing out compliments." "There's a show coming up in Victoria in a few months and another one in Corpus Christi, want to try again? We could share a booth if you want." "Sure, sounds like fun. Did I tell you I met three verrrryyy interesting men this weekend? The men that bought my paintings." "You only sold two pieces." "Well, one was a browser-but a very interesting browser." "I wondered when you were going to get around to telling me about your true intentions. You've been taking art lessons for two years just to meet men and now you're going to start showing for the same reason?" "Abecka that's not true, I can't help it if men are attracted to me like rust to a magnet." Laughing, Anne airily fluffed her hair and batted her lashes. "More like dust to a vacuum if you ask me." Abecka shot back without missing a beat. "Ohhhh that was a good one." Anne groaned. "I knew I was bound to rub off on you sooner or later." She smiled and settled back into her seat looking out at the horizon. They watched as the sun, a molten magenta bubble, slowly slid down the curvature of the Earth. It's last light reflected in watery mirages on the asphalt ahead. They sped along in the growing darkness. Abecka watched the ditches for the telltale glint of a deer's eye. After sundown they often jumped the low barbed wire fences to browse the sweet green grass watered by the drainage runoff. If startled, White Tailed deer were just as apt to dart into the path of an oncoming automobile as to run the other way. Thoughts of Clayton slowly worked their way back into Abecka's mind. She'd thought of him almost constantly all weekend. When they'd checked in at the Saint Anthony she thought she'd seen him step into an elevator. But when a stranger turned and smiled a gape-toothed grin at her rubber-necking, she blushed noticeably. Saturday morning, while arranging her artwork on the River Walk, she was certain she saw him wave from a launch gliding down the winding green waterway. Then she saw a young couple standing next to her wave back. While making change after a sale, she was startled to hear his voice behind her and turned to see a father talking to his child. To make matters worse, one of the strolling mariachis was wearing Clayton's cologne and every time he passed her booth she lost her train of thought. "Well, here we are." Abecka nudged Anne with her elbow. "And thanks so much for keeping me awake on the drive back. Probably kept us from having a fatal accident." "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep on you. I probably missed several more Clayton stories." Anne stretched and tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn. "Actually I didn't have any trouble staying awake. I know I've been terrible company, thanks for going with me, and thanks for being such a good bud." Abecka reached over and hugged her friend. "I had a great time, I can't wait to do it again. Stop worrying about Clayton. He knows you well enough to know that you just needed a little time to think. Do you want me to call Mayree and tell her you're on your way?" "No, it’s late, she’s probably in bed. Have a safe flight tomorrow and don't forget to call me after you arrive so I can stop worrying." "I don't know if I'm going to see a mother or leaving one behind but I'll call." Anne said. Abecka waved as she turned the Blazer around and headed home. Only five more miles, she reminded herself. She spotted the first deer of the night just before she turned onto the caliche road that led to Long Cane. Three does and a huge basket-rack buck. All four raised their heads in unison to look at the Blazer before turning and running down the fence line. Then as graceful as ballet dancers they glissaded in tandem over the fence and bounded off into the night. Mayree stood in the driveway, caught in the sweep of the Blazer's headlights like a frightened fawn. Her hands twisted in her white apron. Abecka's heart lurched. Julianna? An accident? What? She leapt from the Blazer and ran to Mayree's side. "The Preacher's back." Mayree gestured with her head toward the Cadillac parked next to her Buick. The pent-up fear of the last six years hit Abecka in a wave so forceful it almost knocked her to the ground. She clutched Mayree's arm to steady herself and tried to rein in her racing thoughts. Before she could speak she heard the sound of footsteps, and a tall figure stepped out of the darkness. "Hello, Darlin'. You goin' to give your Daddy a hug?" Abecka shivered as a chill sliced through her body. He stood there, all her devils incarnate in one man. Holding Julianna before him, like a prize, a thick pink hand on each of her shoulders. She smiled innocently up at Abecka. "Daddy brought me a new bike, come and see! It’s a ten speed, it’s red and silver it’s so cool!" Abecka felt her stomach knot and a trail of hot bile rushed to her throat. It was all she could do to remain calm. She glared her silent hatred to Judson as an answer. "I can see it's goin' to take a while for us to get reacquainted." Judson said, as his fleshy features settled into a repulsive smile.
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