I am pleased bring you an excerpt of Kirsten McKenzie’s new book, Doctor Perry courtesy of Rachel’s Random Resources. I have to say that after reading this excerpt I shall most definitely be adding this book to my Wishlist!
Under the Hippocratic Oath, a doctor swears to remember that warmth, sympathy, and understanding may outweigh the surgeon’s knife or the chemist’s drug. Doctor Perry assures his elderly patients
at the Rose Haven Retirement Home that he can offer warmth, sympathy, and understanding. Doctor Perry is a liar. Hiding from a traumatic past, Elijah Cone wants nothing to do with the other residents at the Rose Haven, content to sit at his window waiting to die. He’s about to learn that under Doctor Perry death is the easy option…
Amazon US, Amazon UK
About the Author:
For many years Kirsten McKenzie worked in her family’s antique store, where she went from being allowed to sell the 50c postcards as a child, to selling $5,000 Worcester vases and seventeenth century silverware, providing a unique insight into the world of antiques which touches every aspect of her writing.
Her historical fiction novels Fifteen Postcards and it’s sequel The Last Letter have been described as Time Travellers Wife meets Far Pavilions and Antiques Roadshow gone viral. The third book in the series Telegram Home will be released in November 2018 by Accent Press.
Her bestselling gothic horror novel Painted was released in 2017, with her medical thriller Doctor Perry following closely in April 2018. She lives in New Zealand with her husband, her daughters, an SPCA rescue cat and a kitten found in the neighbours shed, and can usually be found procrastinating on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Goodreads or BookBub.
Taken from Chapter 14
Every day Amber Jackson walks her twin sons to school past the Rose Haven Retirement Resort. She has a decision to make about her own father, and walking past the old folks home washes waves of guilt over her. Her sons may look angelic, but they have tendencies towards the macabre. Soon the boys, Jesse and James, won’t be Amber’s responsibility, nor will what to do with her ill father. But Jesse and James will become someone else’s responsibility, and problem…
“Jesse, hey Jesse, come see these,” called James Jackson to his twin brother, not so loudly that
their mother would turn, but loud enough for his mirror image to hear and come running.
“What’ve you got” asked Jesse Jackson, a complete clone of his brother. Their mother made
no effort to differentiate them and only she could tell them apart. The boys had identical
temperaments and leveraged their alikeness to their advantage.
“Baby rats, look!”
“Cool! Put them in my bag quick, before Mom sees them.” Jesse opened a schoolbag adorned
with images of the Incredible Hulk and a collection of key rings from various family friendly
restaurants where the over-priced nutrition-deficient food was disguised with free gifts and
bottomless soda cups.
The rats were deposited into Jesse Jackson’s schoolbag, to await a fate worse than the sewers
they’d come from, and both boys scurried after their mother as she carried on towards their school. The boys exchanged gleeful looks, today was turning out to be better than expected.
* * *
As the family walked past the Rose Haven Retirement Resort, their mother cast a nervous
glance towards the blank windows following them. Amber Jackson had a decision to make and it didn’t sit comfortably with her. She was embarrassed to be contemplating it, but with three children, an almost full-time job, and no husband, she didn’t have the time or energy to care for her ailing father, which made her feel like a failure. The longer she put off the decision, the worse she felt, but she needed to move somewhere cheaper and smaller, and fast because she was falling behind in her payments. She couldn’t manage any longer with her father holding them back. He was an extra mouth to feed and he took up a whole room which the baby needed. She needed the baby in his own room so she could finally get a proper nights sleep. It’d been forever since she’d had an uninterrupted sleep, so long ago she couldn’t even remember it. Maybe she should move into the old folks home and leave her dad to raise the boys?
The gussied up face of the Rose Haven Retirement Resort followed her harried progress. Amber quickened her steps, barking at the twins to hurry up or they’d be late for school. Little beggars were whispering about something and once again she felt like an outsider within her own family, shut out of their secrets and their play. It had been that way since they were old enough to open their eyes.
“Come on boys, stop dragging your damn feet or we’re going to be late and you’ll have to
explain to Miss Barnett why you’re late,” Amber chastised, turning for them to see that her face had an I’m not messing about look on it.
As she turned, the stroller went over the lip of the sidewalk, its front wheel catching in a
stormwater drain missing its protective grill. A grill which hadn’t been replaced despite more than one concerned citizen ringing the authorities about the hazard.
Amber Jackson’s forward momentum propelled her into the stationary stroller, the weight of
her body knocking it into the path of a monster of a Mercedes, a gleaming white beast hurtling
towards the screaming baby and his stunned mother lying dazed on the sticky bitumen.
The Mercedes driving mom slammed on her brakes and the smell of burning rubber filled the
air as the German engineering kicked in and the brakes did their job, stopping the car an inch away from Amber’s head.
Amber Jackson never saw the car in the other lane, the one driven by a learner driver whose
boyfriend had just broken up with her via text. Amber never saw the tears streaming down the
young girl’s face as she read her boyfriend’s pathetic excuse for the breakup. She never saw the girl take her other hand off the steering wheel to type an angry reply. And she didn’t see the little blue car pull slightly to the side now the driver had both hands off the steering wheel. But Amber
Jackson did hear the little blue car clip the side of the stationary Mercedes at just the wrong angle, which shunted it over her terrified face.
Amber’s face didn’t stay terrified for long; the rubber of the huge tyres stripped the skin from
her face and crushed the cartilage of her nose and her worries fell away with her skin. One of the
diamond earrings her husband had given her on their wedding day was pressed into the hot tar of the road, the other one was caught in the ridges of the tyre. Later, a mechanic would pull the tiny gem from its rubbery grave and slip it into his pocket. From what he’d heard, the woman who’d been wearing the earring didn’t need it any more. Hard to wear earrings when you don’t have any earlobes.
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