Prologue:
Even the song on the local Christian Station mocked her.
Why did they have to place 3:42 A.M by Mercy Me, right now, a song about writers block.
She knew the feeling of having Writers block. She had it right now, or maybe it was just that she was afraid to get started or to get finished.
She had already closed one chapter in her life, was she ready to close out this novel?
She knew she had a deadline to meet, her editor wanted her newest book and yesterday, and she had assured him he could do this, but could she?
Pushing a deadline was nothing new to Charity, but this life was. Pushing a wheelchair was.
She had never in a million years dreamed that something like this would happen to her, that she would suddenly become a victim?
She hated that word, but right now, she truly felt that way.
Charity had been shot, her crime, nothing that she knew off, someone just did not like the way her latest book had ended.
Who knew that writing could be so dangerous?