I’m so happy to hear another Back to school memory. It doesn’t matter how old I get, the beginning of the school year is always exciting for me–and now I can get excited for my son. Well, maybe not this year, exactly because, you know… crap. But it’s still good. Right?

Judythe Morgan was an Army brat then Army wife, which means she’s traveled a lot. She’s been a teacher, an antiques dealer, former mayor’s wife, and sometimes-church pianist. 
Mommy to an Old English sheepdog named Finnegan MacCool and a Maltese named Buster, there’s always a wild adventure brewing.
Her diverse experiences make her life full, her characters vivid, and her stories authentic and award-winning.

Back to School Sensations

By Judythe Morgan

We’re having dog days of summer where I live. You know, those forty days between July 3 and August 11 when ancient Egyptians believed the Dog Star Sirius added heat to the sun and produced a long stretch of sultry weather.

Here in Texas, dog days can (and do) begin well before July 3 and extend long after August 11 with no regard for how bright the Dog Star Sirius shines. COVID-19 mandates for social distance aren’t needed around here. Most everybody’s staying inside anyway to avoid the heat.

Like my Finnegan, all I want to do is sit in front of a fan. Triple digit heat indexes make it just too hot to do much of anything else.

Soon August will turn to September which signals time for school to start again. Back to school thoughts make this one-time schoolteacher become nostalgic. I miss the excitement of getting my classroom ready and meeting new students.

Although with COVID-19 lurking around and all the health and safety guidelines school districts have in place, I’m kinda glad I’m not teaching anymore.

I can’t imagine dealing with students and their masks while trying to keep them six feet apart and sanitizing everything after it’s touched. Teachers today have my heartfelt sympathy and prayers.

As a kid, back-to-school was my favorite time of year too. I looked forward to seeing school friends again, getting new clothes and shoes. I especially looked forward to getting my school supplies. All those fresh notebooks of blank pages to be filled and sparkly pencils to be sharpened.

I still love fresh notebooks and sharp pencils and can’t resist the lure of school supply sales. Difference is these days I fill the blank pages with story ideas, notes, and first drafts.

Back-to-school feels like a turning point every year, not only signaling the arrival of fall with its cooler weather but also new beginnings. New pages to fill. Anticipation builds for what’s to come as another year winds down.

Does back-to-school time fill you with a sense of anticipation?

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Judythe brings along her latest story, Seeing Clearly, that released in May in the Christian, Suspense genre.

Evie Parker is forty-seven, a widow raising her grandson after her only child and his wife die in a suspicious car accident.

Dawson McKey is thirty-four, a divorced, overly cautious ex-cop, who manages her shipping company. Revenge drives him since his twin sons were killed by a cartel’s bomb.

A compelling attraction develops. But drugs show up in a company shipment at the same time mysterious emails threaten Evie’s grandson. Then the nanny she hired against Dawson’s advice disappears with her grandson. Dawson suspects cartel involvement.

Their search for the toddler tests their trust, even as it binds their hearts.

Nook Book: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/seeing-clearly-judythe-morgan/1136871829

Darkness swirled in Evelyn Parker’s head. Dawson McKey’s voice drifted like a soft light through the blackness. She heard her name, the drone of whispered words, and other sounds she couldn’t identify. It was like trying to thread a needle, blindfolded.

She opened her eyes and reality came crashing through her haze. Hospital. Accident. David and Mandy dead.

A doctor lightly touched her wrist, checking his watch. “You fainted.”

Fainted? She never fainted. Not even three years ago when her husband died in her arms. “I’m fine. Where’s my grandson?”

Tiny bumps pebbled across her neck. Did she already know that answer? Is that why she fainted?

“Why don’t we go in there and talk? I can check that bump.” She searched his face for any sign of hope against the truth she feared.

Dawson, close friend and Parker Industry’s Director of Security, eased his arm behind her back.

Evie sank into the nearest chair. The doctor rubbed the back of her head. She flinched. “Everything looks fine.”

“Great. Now, about Michael, when can I see him?”

Dawson’s large, warm hand covered hers. She wanted to nestle into his heat, lean against his strong body, to hide until all of this went away. She stiffened her spine instead.

“Follow me.”

Evie planted her flip-flops on the floor with a thud. The clip-clop of the rubber soles boomed in rhythm with her pounding heart.

Dawson slowed his pace to Evie’s stride. He drew deep on years of training to keep his body language relaxed while his senses were on high alert after what the investigating officer told him. A witness reported another car clipped David’s SUV, causing it to careen off the road.

Accident? Not with the gambling debts David Parker had. More likely a deliberate act executed by the cartel.