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    Blindsided! Good Grief
    Blindsided! Good Grief
    Blindsided! Good Grief
    Ebook87 pages1 hour

    Blindsided! Good Grief

    By Alexie Linn

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    About this ebook

    The body wedged in the doorway, floating on a pool of glass shards and red liquid, was very much alive. But the body laid out under a Palo Verde tree in my retention pond was very much dead. The live body wedged in the doorway was blinded in the line of duty, living a demoralizing life of forced retirement with no enemies and no hope. The corpse under the Palo Verde tree was a county code enforcer with a plethora of enemies – and I was the targeted fall gal for the murder.

    This is the story of Max – the bored blind guy; Irene – the blind guy's discontented wife, who retired from school teaching to help Max; and me – Joan Freed, the rebel life coach – plus a few more characters.

    We met by accident – literally. After the clean-up, they shared Keurig coffee and Biscotta with me – my first for both, and we talked a little about ourselves – like you do when you meet new people. Max was the precise picture of what crushed self-esteem in men would look like – in my opinion. Irene still had enough stamina to pull me aside and ask for help in turning their devastating grief into good grief.

    While I think the second body – the dead one – was a tad overkill to trigger Max into personal growth, expanding horizons, and his own success mindset, it worked – and I'm still here to tell you about it.

    A cozy mystery set in the desert southwest that started as two women on an adventure. Then came corruption, murder and mayhem, followed by life beyond biscotti – all from a bump on the head.

    Get on the journey train and enjoy the ride today. Get the book, read it, laugh, cry, and love. And please take a moment to leave your all-important review. It matters – a lot.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAlexie Linn
    Release dateFeb 28, 2015
    ISBN9781311517067
    Blindsided! Good Grief
    Author

    Alexie Linn

    Alexie Linn was born, raised, and stuck in Whatcom County, Washington - that's the drippy side - until she escaped ca.1995 to the desert southwest -- Arizona. After her feet returned to normal human feet - as opposed to heavily webbed duck feet, she decided to stay near dry heat - except in August when the mild Pacific Northwest is simply marvelous most of the time. She holds certificates in writing, life coaching, nutritional therapy, and counseling - to name just a few. She loves to learn, to help people do what they want to do, and to call an RV her home, as long as it's parked out in the 'sticks'. Writing is her favorite thing to do at 3 AM while reading is her favorite thing to do at 3 PM. Alexie writes from a genetic need, much life experience, and an extremely active imagination.

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      Book preview

      Blindsided! Good Grief - Alexie Linn

      Good Grief! The Series Volume IV

      7 Days – 7 Steps

      Grief Recovery Fast-Tracked in Joan's Unorthodox, Simply Successful

      Style

      BLINDSIDED!

      Good Grief!

      by Alexie Linn

      Published by MA Deeter Company

      https://www.alexielinn.com

      All people and events in this work of fiction are wholly contrived from the imagination of the author.

      Copyright c2014 MA Deeter Company

      All Rights Reserved

      Edited by R.J. Deeter

      Backcover Image by Frederick Eschbach

      Don't Look Back Image by Mary Engelbreit

      Cover design by MA Deeter

      Cover Image from Shutterstock.com

      This book is dedicated to the furthering of Robert Eschbach's

      promotion of life. Specifically, to educate, to encourage, to live and to love to the best of our abilities.

      While he lived to promote everyone to live life to the fullest, he was

      especially focused on the blind – as he, himself, was.

      His life long efforts live on in the installation of the Robert M. Eschbach Scholarship Fund within the National Federation of the Blind, Ohio Chapter.

      $1.00 of each sale of this book – in paperback, books on tape, or

      ebook – is donated to the Robert M. Eschbach Scholarship Fund.

      Go to www.alexielinn.com for more information on this book and

      others, to email Joan Freed and Alexie Linn, and to learn more.

      Chapter 1

      I was plainly on a mission as my Crocs from the local Goodwill clomped down the hall of The Garnet – an assisted living estate in Casa Grande, Arizona.

      My friend, Opal – a client from eons ago – now age 97, had decided it was time she quit living entirely alone. She wanted help with housekeeping, meal preparation, and to participate in morning kaffee klatches – Opal's words for a gossip session.

      Approaching an open door, I heard CRASH, BOOM, and a grunt, like someone had the wind knocked out of them. By then I was at the door and saw a man – late 50s, tall as a tree, and built like a Sumo wrestler – wedged in the doorway – feet and legs in the hall; head, arms and torso inside the apartment. A white cane lay among shards of glass and a pool of red liquid. I didn't think his Hawaiian shirt was the source of the red liquid. He was trying to get himself up, laying his hand in the glass. I could feel his humiliation – but I decided he needed my help more than he needed to protect his pride.

      Whoa! Mister! Stop! You're in glass shards!

      He stopped.

      Hang on. I'll clear a spot for you to lay your hand. I picked up his hand and placed it on his leg while I used a Kleenex from my pocket to push glass shards into a pile. No one else had arrived to help or direct. The man still had not spoken.

      Okay, I said, and redirected his hand to a clear place on the floor. Can you make that work? Let me watch under your knees. He slowly put weight on his hand and worked himself around to his knees. Lookin' good. Should I call someone for help?

      He finally spoke. My cell phone. Do you see it? I'll call my wife.

      I saw his phone – on the other side of his very large body that blocked the door.

      Do you feel wounded anywhere but your pride? I can see your phone, but you'll have to back out into the hallway for me to reach it.

      No. I'm okay, I think. He crawled backwards out the door, me watching where he was placing his hands and knees.

      Okay. That's good. You sit tight. I'll get your phone and your cane. I reached in gingerly and retrieved the phone and the cane to hand to him.

      There you are. Do you need me to call for you?

      Nope. I can do it. He felt his flip phone, opened it and spoke to it, Call Irene. The phone started ringing – I could hear it; he must have put it on speaker.

      Yes, Max. What's up? a feminine voice said.

      I need you to come to the apartment. I tripped and need help.

      On my way! she said and he closed the phone.

      Are you still here? he asked.

      "Yes, sir, I am. I won't leave until your wife gets here and I know you're okay. I don't see any major amounts of blood anywhere. I think the red liquid is from whatever broke.

      I'm Joan, by the way. And you're Max?"

      Maxwell, really. But you can call me Max. My wife's name is Irene. I think I hear her coming now....

      I could hear the tap, tap, tap of heeled shoes quick stepping in the tiled corridor a few seconds before I saw her. A very tall woman that looked like she was walking on stilts – she had to be nearly 6' tall – with henna red hair that had a mind of its own, dressed in black slacks and a paisley print top. Her step quickened even more when she saw Max sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall in the hallway.

      What happened, sweetheart!? Are you going to be okay, or should I call the nurse? Is anything broken? she was kneeling next to Max and looked at me with a question on her face.

      I'm Joan. I was walking by when he fell in the doorway. I could see glass shards and the white cane, so I directed him out of the doorway – and here we both are, me seeing if I can be of anymore help before I go about my business. I'll wait until I know you don't need an extra set of hands.

      Well, thank you, Joan. Let me see what we have here. She looked in the doorway at the glass and red stuff, then examined Max for cuts and glass shards. I don't see any glass in your clothes or hands – can you stand up, Max? she asked.

      Maybe, he responded. He turned, groaning, onto his

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