Before love can replace revenge, there will be supernatural A Woman's Revenge is Love: Greyhound Lady Walking suspense series who sometimes ignore “being by the book “and do the “right thing”. (New York City) Quote #1 of 7 to find a way to make her reticence go away and make Luke proud.
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- Greyhound Lady Walking by Joyce Godwin Grubbs
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- Greyhound Lady Walking (Greyhound Lady Walking Series)
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Thanks for telling us about the problem. Return to Book Page. Yes, Sam is a woman. The two Marrs brothers are her new landlords; each a rich and eligible bachelor in his own right. They are impacted by her breath-taking, if unorthodox introduction into their lives, creating division and competition.
Jet-setter Dalton and grounded mogul Matt, square off about her lease of their one hundred acre ranch to use as a Greyhound Rescue and Adoption services for retired racers. Mysterious happenings reveal there is an underground transport system being operated at the ranch. Kidnapping,murder and deceit are threaded throughout this tale that taps into the inner soul of the characters. Meeting Minnie Rae Swofford, retired teacher and the "resurrected witch from Oz" offers you an unforgettable role model in life. The women of the Greyhound Ranch capture your heart and open your eyes as they "move on" in life with humor, friendship and living out what it means to be a fulfilled woman.
The key to the puzzle is found in the greyhounds as a mystical foreshadowing appears, answering the question of whose destiny is completed with Sam Huston. If you are a man, you will cheer as you leave to find or appreciate your own Sam Huston.
Greyhound Lady Walking by Joyce Godwin Grubbs
Prologue When the sparks fly at the first meeting of two people, and the gauntlet is thrown in sincere challenge, look for the universe to take perverse delight in the path upon which the two embark. Unexplained, mystical, foreshadowing is woven into the fabric of the life tapestry of two very modern and independent people. The greyhounds will change everything.
Though they had grown up in the same small Oklahoma town and been childhood sweethearts, the path to this night had been rocky. He was a darling of the NFL and a Superbowl star player. Smiling, she hung up the phone and would have given herself a high five if she could have figured out how. Her reflection in the full-length mirror caught her attention. Thinking of the presentation she made today at Mr. Deans office, she could see why Summers thought she was a plain Jane.
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She had worn a deceptively plain gray pantsuit with a white button shirt. Her philosophy was to start at the bottom and ramp it up as high as she found the situation warranted. In previous cases, she had been a maiden spinster, a fashion model, and several things in between those two roles. She was very good at accents, disguises, and faking all kinds of professions. She did not consider herself a feminist, but she damn sure did not accept the designation of a Milly Milktoast. She knew that meant the same as Dolly Doormat, and there was no way in she would ever allow herself that role.
As she approached Luke in the bar, he looked past the people in front of him and boldly locked eyes with her, cocking one eyebrow higher to acknowledge her. Speaking to the surrounding admirers in a seductive tone, he teased. My reason for living. As the assembled grup turned, Tori almost stumbled.
Sitting in front of Luke, and having been the most engaged in conversation when she entered was Hunter Summers. She received some gratification in seeing after a momentary pause, he seemed as stunned to recognize her, as she was to see him with Luke. Luke was moving forward and surrounding her with his long, lanky, arms as he drew her up against him and gave her his usual abandoned kiss. Not caring who was looking, waiting or watching he always greeted her in his confident, appreciative way. He just spent his time getting us through.
Especially dumb jocks like me. Tori almost spoke before she took in the meaning of what he just said. Of course you did. Luke told me that night at the restaurant before the explosion. You are Smarts, his fraternity brother. You got him through his studies. He was a dumb jock and you never had to crack a book. Why are you doing this, and saying these things? I know what Luke told me. I was helping Luke go into witness protection.
In the restaurant, he was trying to get me to realize why he was going to do what he did. It was supposed to be him going into the program that night. In the golden streams of daybreak, she watched the woman turn to the man and received a bouquet. Then in disbelief, she watched as the woman stooped to place the flowers on a grave. The man was tall, with black hair that feathered below his collar. He had on a dress shirt, and slacks, and it looked all too familiar. It was not only Hunter Summers, but in the same suit of clothes he was wearing when she saw him last.
Her mind was switching all over the place, then settled on the idea he was paying his respects, and probably had brought his wife, or friend. Author Tracy Lane-Hembley and husband in love. No wonder she is inspired in dreams. By now you are asking what if anything this has to do with my childhood prayer? When I read the account of a sensitive young woman I had known in her adolescence and subsequent years blossoming into a wife, mother and then grandmother, I was moved: Kimmie Underwood; a woman inspired by love writes about dreams and their inspiration to her. Now I lay my heart to sleep…dreams to come, treasures to keep.
Will I rest… or tumble and toss? I will if you, in my dreams are lost. Never leave me …in sleep or wake. Now I lay my heart to sleep…forever yours to hold and keep. And the man I have loved for 56 years of riding the highs and lows on a roller coaster called life. The future belongs to those who believe in the reality of their dreams. They do not always know of our aches pains, and sorrows because as parents we try to protect them.
Not from the necessary things of course, but from the things that sometimes we have to do to get by. This story speaks to that dilemma often faced by parents as their children grow older, more successful, and indeed, even more distant. A lesson many grown children after all that is what adults really are should learn from. The farm was where they had grown up and it had been named Lone Pine Farm because of the huge pine, which topped the hill behind the farmhouse. Through the years the tree had become a talisman to the old man and his wife, and a landmark in the countryside.
The young siblings had fond memories of their childhood here, but the city hustle and bustle added more excitement to their lives, and called them away to a different life. The old folks no longer showed the horses, for the years had taken their toll, and getting out to the barn on those frosty mornings was getting harder, but it gave them a reason to get up in the mornings and a reason to live. You should cut corners and save so you can have more for yourselves. How can this old worn out horse bring you anything but expense and work? Why do you keep her anyway?
With gentle caressing he rubbed her softly behind her ears. Nothing else, just love. Baffled and impatient, the young folks wished the old man and his wife a Merry Christmas and headed back toward the city as darkness stole through the valley. The old couple shook their heads in sorrow that it had not been a happy visit.
A tear fell upon their cheeks. How is it that these young folks do not understand the peace of the love that filled their hearts? So it was, that because of the unhappy leave-taking, no one noticed the smell of the insulation smoldering on the frayed wires in the old barn. None saw the first spark fall. In a matter of minutes, the whole barn was ablaze and the hungry flames were licking at the loft full of hay.
With a cry of horror and despair, the old man shouted to his wife to call for help as he raced to the barn to save their beloved horses. But the flames were roaring now, and the blazing heat drove him back. His wife back from calling for help cradled him in her arms, clinging to each other, they wept at their loss. By the time the fire department arrived, only smoking, glowing ruins were left, and the old man and his wife, exhausted from their grief, huddled together in front of the barn.
They were speechless and stunned as they rose from the cold snow covered ground. They nodded thanks to the firemen as there was nothing anyone could do now. Let us gather strength and climb the hill to the old pine where we have sought comfort in times of despair. We will look down upon our home and give thanks to God that it has been spared and pray for our beloved most precious gifts that have been taken from us. And so, he took her by the hand and slowly helped her up the snowy hill as he brushed aside his own tears with the back of his old, withered hand.
The journey up the hill was hard for their old bodies in the steep snow. As they stepped over the little knoll at the crest of the hill, they paused to rest, looking up to the top of the hill, the old couple gasped and fell to their knees in amazement at the incredible beauty before them.
Seemingly, every glorious, brilliant star in the heavens was caught up in the glittering, snow-frosted branches of their beloved pine, and it was aglow with heavenly candles. And poised on its top- most bough, a crystal crescent moon glistened like spun glass Never had a mere mortal created a Christmas tree such as this. They were breathless as the old man held his wife tighter in his arms. Suddenly, the old man gave a cry of wonder and incredible joy. Amazed and mystified, he took his wife by the hand and pulled her forward. There, beneath the tree, in resplendent glory, a mist hovering over and glowing in the darkness was their Christmas gift.
Shadows glistening in the night light. At the first hint of smoke, she had pushed the door ajar with her muzzle and had led the horses through it. Slowly and with great dignity, never looking back, she had led them up the hill, stepping cautiously through the snow. The foals were frightened and dashed about.
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The skittish yearlings looked back at the crackling, hungry flames, and tucked their tails under them as they licked their lips and hopped like rabbits. And now she lay among them and gazed at the faces of the old man and his wife.
Those she loved she had not disappointed. Her body was brittle with years, tired from the climb, but the golden eyes were filled with devotion as she offered her gift —LOVE. Only Because of love. Tears flowed as the old couple shouted their praise and joy… And again the peace of love filled their hearts. This is a true story. Please take a closer look at the evolution of this author in pictures. We all grow old if we live long enough. Like the old couple in the story, we stubbornly refused to cut certain corners as we celebrated the joy and devotion our two rescued greyhounds give us.
We received that wonderful unconditional love a pet gives. Our two, Big Buddy and Baby Doll certainly gave more than we ever anticipated. There is not a more welcome gift that you can share than this. You may not know their true needs, pain, sorrows, but that will not matter if you show them love and compassion.
Believe in them now, as they believed in you as a child and as an extension of themselves.
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They are, after all, the only parents you will ever truly have. Respect, love, in-person visitation, and one to one contact frequently are small things to ask when they spent a lifetime loving and caring about you. Author Joyce Godwin Grubbs. There is no doubt my blog, legacy stories, novels and posts on FB and other social media, fill in the blanks.
Greyhound Lady Walking (Greyhound Lady Walking Series)
Pioneer police woman in Iowa, Trula Ann Godwin http: In recent national news coverage, a young man was heralded as a hero for rescuing a couple from a burning mobile home in Mississippi. What made this story so spectacular to the media was the fact that the young man was African-American, the couple was white, and outside their mobile home flew a confederate flag.
This young man not only stopped to help, but he saved the two people inside which required going into the flaming inferno, and then giving them CPR. The couple inside told the media that medical personnel told them, another two or three minutes and they could not have been saved. The husband who was pulled to safety first said when he looked at the burning trailer, he was not sure he would have risked going back in for his wife as it looked so hopeless.
Recently reunited with the couple he saved, he was embraced by them both, thanked and assured no Confederate flag would ever fly at their house again. Even though their flag had no association with a hate group or intended racist attitude, they now understood what it meant to him. My challenge to the African-American youth of today is the same as my challenge to the White youth , Asian youth, Native American youth and indeed all youth.
Take responsibility for all that you think, believe and act on. Do not let hate, bigotry and prejudice from the past or present lead you to destroy the future. Have faith and hope in this nation and its future. Never let anyone take your heritage from you. You were born in the greatest nation with the most freedom of any place in this world. Be responsible to communicate with others, to bury fear of being different, and in fact learn to embrace it.
As a police officer she loved this invitation to speak more than any other. As a white police officer she felt most honored to be asked. It was the invitation to speak at the yearly Conference of Black Youth. Indeed, though she was ill from cancer treatments, she delivered the speech as her last official outreach before leaving the force after twenty seven years to battle her breast cancer. She always wanted to be sure whatever she was going to say, was said in a manner that conveyed respect and lifted her listeners up.
She never forgot where she came from and that she had lived growing up first- hand in the segregated south. She wanted to be sure that when they honored her by asking her to speak, she honored them in what she would say. Trula had learned firsthand the bitterness and pain of racism when she married the first black police officer from an adjoining city. His home was fired on and his family threatened when he first went on the force.
Each served on integrated police forces of bordering states, and were shunned by many. Her new marriage caused a firestorm and she now had to suffer rejection from long time friends and fellow officers. She was the butt of cruel and vicious pranks, even in the police station where some peers were among the pranksters. She believed in expressing herself in poetry and one of the poems she wrote and dedicated to her husband follows: Such was the shared legacy she experienced and now shares with you.
Cancer silenced her and stilled the fingers that had so long labored to record the story of her life and experiences. Her legacy lives on in the lives and issues she challenged and changed. The dignity of her last words, her personal eulogy if you will, further illustrates that she overcame the hate and the vicious attacks and died more than a survivor, she died a victor.
At the funeral services there were simple flyers handed out with a picture of a field of flowers on them. This simple statement was left as her parting thoughts. Some touched me with love and compassion, standing beside me through trials and tribulations.
Others became my inspiration, helping me to view life through a different light or guide me to a new path…a path yet to be explored. There are many who touched my life as an instrument of learning, therefore a short but impressionable time. Yet others touched me with tears or pain, you too were important. You taught me tolerance, compassion and forgiveness.