Posts Tagged Dani Driscoll
I wrote Hope, Inc. after a discussion with the Physician’s Assistant in my surgeon’s office. I hope you enjoy the first installment of The Dani Driscoll Series.
When Dani Driscoll arrives to interview an immunologist about his extraordinary success in preventing breast cancer in mice, she finds him on his deathbed.
Dani struggles to move on with her comfortable life, but something about this heartbreaking tragedy nags at her. She pitches a series of follow up stories about the disease and research, but her editor, a man she’s known her whole life, shuts her down.
Meanwhile, the devastated research team scrambles to secure funding under the name of a new principal investigator. They hire a grant writer recommended by a prominent figure in the fight against this disease, but soon suspect she was planted.
Plagued by fitful dreams, Dani’s suspicions grow until she uncovers a conspiracy to preserve corporate profits at the expense of the very women these corporations claim to save. Witnessing shameless greed, abuse of power, and a grand scheme to destroy the most promising hope of eradicating this disease, Dani is given a warning: “Silence!”
Determined, she digs in without the use of her credentials, and suspecting the researcher was murdered, she confides in her friend, a police investigator who promises to look into it. But, by the time he puts the pieces together Dani has been kidnapped, and is left to reason with her abductor, pleading for her life.
Whumpf! The unmistakable rumble of igniting fire reverberates through the abandoned building where she is gagged and bound tight, hopeless with the realization she’s been left to burn to death.
Heart-stopping action, and a last minute twist reveals a pervasive corporate conspiracy to deceive the world with the promise of hope.
Summer is here at last, and it’s time to dust off the lawn chairs, grab a cold beverage, and take in some vitamin D while relaxing with a good book.
One of my favorite genres is crime mystery, and Hope, Inc. reveals a web greed, jealousy, and conspiracy. It’s a backdoor peek into a well-oiled money making machine preying on desperate victims.
Some comments from readers:
Loved Dani Driscoll
Hurry! This giveaway closes on June 30, 2014.
My family probably thinks I’ve gone ‘round the bend, but after a close call with cancer I’ve done enough research to be appalled at the American food supply. I’m convinced the pesticide laden, genetically modified foods, pumped with growth hormones is unhealthy, and may actually contribute to a plethora of illnesses that plague Americans.
Salad with a side of pesticides, anyone? A glass of wine with hormone laden cheese?
No thank you.
Buying USDA certified organic food is expensive for most budgets. Who can afford to pay over $9.00 for a head of cauliflower? Yes, I recently looked at my grocery receipt and discovered I paid nine dollars for a single head of cauliflower! Yikes!
My husband and I enjoyed patio-home living. No grass to mow, no walks or driveways to shovel. It’s a great lifestyle, but it also means no digging up or occupying any part of the yard for a garden.
“Besides,” my husband said, “you’re a writer, not a farmer.”
Nevertheless, as if December wasn’t busy enough with Christmas, my son’s birthday, and our wedding anniversary, we decided to go house hunting.
A small ranch-style home with an equally small yard caught our attention. Small is the operative word here, but we reasoned, small also means manageable. We’re empty nesters, and I’m no longer interested in cleaning four bathrooms.
After some negotiation, we bought the house, which will have to last through retirement, because I am never–did you hear me–never moving again. Especially not in Colorado’s snowy, minus nine-degree winter. But, I digress.
We went to the Colorado Garden and Home Show to take a break from unpacking. The displays were stunning. One vendor offered a healthy supply of organic seeds, which I bought. Another merchant mentioned a book called Square Foot Gardening by Mel Bartholomew.
I bought the book and am enthralled with the idea!
The concept of square foot gardening is a revelation. If this pans out, I can:
- Grow my vegetables in 20% of the space it would take for a traditional garden.
- Use raised beds to save wear and tear on my back and knees.
- Vary the sizes of my containers to make the yard and garden visually pleasing.
- Use only 6” of a specialized light weight soil mix.
- Eliminate fertilizers and pesticides.
- Move the garden containers around the yard, if needed.
And the real kicker… Are you ready for this? No weeding! This is apparently because you don’t use weed-infested dirt from your yard. Instead, you mix three simple, lightweight ingredients, and put the mix in a container.
Someone re-invented the garden while I was busy reading Harry Potter books!
Can I really grow carrots in six inches of soil that never needs weeding? I don’t know, but this is my spring and summer project and I’m about to find out.
Chapter Two – Sneak Peek
Nolan’s cell phone rang just as he settled down at his computer. Before he could answer he heard Seth scramble to get out of his chair without falling. Shaking his head, he picked up the call. “Nolan Jennings. Oh yes, Ms. Davenport how are you? Good, good. Uh huh. Yes, a site visit can be arranged at your convenience. Perfect. I’ll see you in a few days. Thank you for your consideration. I will, I will. Have a nice day.”
“Yes!” Nolan pumped his fist in victory. “We’re at the top of the heap! Mona Davenport is coming to our little ol’ laboratory. She wants to do a site visit, and she’s bringing some members of her advisory board.”
All three of them burst into his office high-fiving, Amy jumped up and down, her long dark ponytail bouncing behind her.
“You’ll make history, Nolan.” Bridget’s eyes glistened with tears that hadn’t yet spilled over. “In the company of Salk and Pasteur.”
“Yes you will.” Seth nodded and smiled.
“Our team will make history,” Nolan emphasized. “It’s always our team. I couldn’t have done this without the three of you.”
Nolan beamed. His research was finally ready for prime time. Ready to test in human clinical trials, and if it worked in humans the way it worked in mice, it could save millions from a horrible disease.
Nolan buried his head in his hands in mock despair. “If we get funding I’ll have another truck load of paperwork to get permission from the FDA to test it.”
Amy patted his shoulder. “Awww, there’s always a down side, but it’s so worth it.”
A timer went off in the lab. “Back to work.” Bridget shoved on her glasses and headed toward the experiment she’d set up.
“And I need to get this morning’s data recorded in the database.” Amy turned gracefully on her heels and followed Bridget out the door.
Seth extended his hand to Nolan for their secret handshake, and nodded.
Nolan called his wife, Suzanne, to tell her the good news, took two big bites from his donut, and chugged half his coffee.
He never minded publishing and research–those were the gratifying aspects of his work. But, grant proposals also went with the territory, and even after eighteen years as an immunologist Nolan much preferred to be in his lab with his test tubes and mice.
Dr. Nolan Jennings swiped his security card in the reader, and walked briskly through his lab calling out a happy “Good Morning” on the way to his private office.
His research team was already performing their morning check on the mice, and making notes to enter into the animal trial database. Eager for an update on their findings, he quickly listened to messages, hoping for at least one response to his latest round of grant proposals.
The research had been peer reviewed, and published in the prestigious “Journal of Immunology and Science”. This was groundbreaking science, and he was absolutely confident in his findings. But, securing funding to advance this type of research was proving to be difficult. In medicine, the biggest breakthroughs were often met with the most resistance.
Is the world ready? He wondered for about the hundredth time. A quick scan of his email revealed nothing urgent, so he pulled on his lab coat and strode into the lab.
“How is everyone this morning? And how are our little ones faring?”
“Still no evidence of disease.” Bridget Mallory leaned over one of the cages, then stood up and removed her glasses, as she did about fifty times a day.
“Excellent! What about the group bred for disease?” Nolan asked.
“None of them have developed a single symptom.” Seth McCleary called out from his desk, which was nothing more than a lowered continuation of the black lab counter top with the addition of a few built in drawers and cubbyholes he’d stuffed with mail, notes, and journals. “Any word from the foundation?”
“Not yet. It takes time.” Nolan surveyed the wall of cages that housed the mice, sticking his finger through to pet a few of them.
The door buzzer sounded, and Bridget moved quickly to open it for Amy Garcia, who balanced a tray of coffee, and a box of donuts. Setting the pastries down in the designated break area, she passed out coffee, and took a read of their faces. “No word yet?” She asked in her Texas drawl.
“I’m sure we’ll hear soon.” Bridget smiled, put her glasses on, and bent over to observe the mice.
Nolan took a sip of his coffee, plopped two donuts on a paper towel, and headed back to his office. “If anyone needs me I’ll be up to my nose in another grant proposal.”
Amy called after him, “When are we going to sequence your DNA so we can clone your metabolism?”
“It’s not genetics, it’s gender,” Nolan called back.
“It’s because you don’t sleep,” Bridget teased.
“Gone home.” Dani Driscoll laughed, and peeked around her cubicle to see Editor in Chief, Samuel Cooper, coming her way carrying a fistful of papers.
“I can see that.” Coop raised an eyebrow. “I’d like you to take a look at this press release. Can you squeeze it in before the Romano piece?”
“What’s it about? Some new-and-improved sports car that perhaps runs on solar?” Dani teased.
Coop rolled his eyes. “No. I think you’ll find this more interesting. It’s not strictly your beat, but I’d like you to cover it from a human-interest view point.”
Dani snatched the papers out of his hand, and rolled her eyes. “This is all scrunched up, Coop. Have some respect for my work.” She smoothed the papers on her desk, and read the first few lines out loud. “The Rush Institute, Denver, Colorado. Promising research gives hope to millions.”
“You’re right, I don’t do medical. Pete will be mad. Why me?”
“I want a woman’s perspective on this; the story behind the story,” Coop told her.
“Great.” she said. “But you know I have no background in medical research.”
Scanning the next few paragraphs she gasped, and looked up at him with wide eyes.