New York, 1935

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Hi Monsters & Angels readers!

I'm so happy you've stopped by to check out Sorcha's story! I'm putting the finishing touching on this novel to be released in October of 2017. I'd love to hear any comments...anything you like or don't like....anytime! 

Thanks!

Anne Marie

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"A nurse is the Lord's fiercest angel."

Sorcha recited script painted over the double doors as she plucked hairpins from her handed-down nursing cap. Malarkey. We're much too exhausted.

The hum of voices giving orders and answers swirled down the hall behind her like invisible fog.

"No more exams." Sorcha let one hand fall on the worn door handle, drew a long breath and followed with the deliberate grasp of her other hand. "No more school." She burst through the hospital entrance, and shook her hair free to warm in the sun. "I've done it."

"So, you're gainfully employed?" The security guard tipped his cap.

"Starting tomorrow, I'll help put food on our table." Sorcha turned her face to the sky and savored the last of the brilliant, late October air. The streets of her neighborhood were crowded with residents dragging themselves home from work. On a whim, she stopped at a bodega to splurge on a few flowers.

"Congratulations on your graduation." The shop owner's eyes crinkled as he added extra blooms to her bouquet. "Nurse Alden."

Sorcha waved her hands in front of her face. "No, no. Nurse Alden is my mother. Though, perhaps I'll get used to it." She plunged her nose into the petals and jogged the last block to her grey apartment building.

"Mum, I'm home." Sorcha kicked the peeling front door shut. She pulled black and white portraits from her bag before she tossed it on the floor. "Need your opinion on my yearbook pictures. I don't love any of them but you've always said my smile is my best feature. There are a few here..."

A teakettle's shrill whistle beckoned from the kitchen. Stepping around the corner, Sorcha tripped over a crumpled figure. "Mum!" Photographs and flowers tumbled to the floor as she knelt and shook the motionless woman's shoulder, staring into her blank eyes.

"Mum, are you...? Oh, God!" She brushed panic aside as instinct and training took over. Pulse check, present, but weak. Breathing, shallow. Her hand splashed in an expanding pool of blood and black fire seared behind her eyelids. Damn, calm down. You know what to do. Now do it.

Two steps at a time strained the muscles in her legs, but today Sorcha skipped more stairs than she hit. She pounded on the caretaker's door until his wife answered, "What's wrong?"

"Frannie! Mum fell—she's bleeding—can't wake her up."

"Take a deep breath, go to your mother. I'll be right there." Frannie dialed the operator while Sorcha raced back to her apartment.

Careful not to move her mother's neck, Sorcha sunk to the kitchen floor and cradled the limp body in her arms. "I'm here now." She dabbed blood from the back of her head with a pristine kitchen towel and winced as her fingers found a telltale squish at the base of the skull. "I'll buy you some new linens, don't worry. A few sutures in the emergency room will fix you right up."

She stared in disbelief as the bloody cloth turned from crimson to black in her hands. Pull yourself together. Sorcha squeezed her eyes closed, touched her forehead to her mother's, and prayed. Please, God, I realize I'm a lousy Catholic, but my mother's devoted her whole life to serving you, to helping the sick and dying. She needs you. I need you. I'll do anything. Please!

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