Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Another 5 star review for COLORED FLOODLIGHTS!

I read this book in one sitting! It was easy to read and filled with action. The main character, Parker, is a psychologist who lives with his wife, Katrina, in Florida. She starts cheating on him with a policeman, and meanwhile Parker starts treating a patient named Roy who is unbalanced because he suffers from PTSD from fighting in the war. There are a lot of “life” plots in here, and a lot happens to keep it interesting. I like the authors writing style and thought it was easy to read. I’d definitely read more from Mr. Drury in the future.

Reviewed by Stacy on Goodreads 

Saturday, October 27, 2012

A 5 star review for Colored Floodlights.

"From the war, to the Wall Street protests, to a carjacking, a shooting, a marriage in shambles, and even a house fire, there was always something happening that kept me glued to my Kindle."    

Colored Floodlights reviewed by  IndieBookReviewers  October 2012

"Colored Floodlights” was an intriguing and engaging novel that covered a wide span of interesting events. From the war, to the Wall Street protests, to a carjacking, a shooting, a marriage in shambles, and even a house fire, there was always something happening that kept me glued to my Kindle. I was never bored and thought the story was easy to get lost in. The characters felt authentic and the dialogue believable. It is told in the third person omniscient POV so we see different character’s perspectives as the story unravels. Although I thought the beginning was a tad slow, once I got into the story I couldn’t put it down. (5 stars).

Sunday, August 19, 2012

Reviews and an excerpt for COLORED FLOODLIGHTS


Midwest Book Review 2012
"A read well worth considering for those seeking contemporary literary fiction."

Worn out by war, some take time to come back to their life. "Colored Floodlights" is a novel as Frank Drury tells the story of Afghanistan veteran Roy Calhoun. As he meets and befriends psychologist Parker Boyce, their bond grows as Roy visits many Occupy Wall Street protests throughout the country and tries to understand the discontent, while figuring out who he truly is. "Colored Floodlights" explores the mind of the veteran and the lost generation, a read well worth considering for those seeking contemporary literary fiction.
Margaret Lane  Midwest Book Review 2012


4-Star Review  for COLORED FLOODLIGHTS

 "A recommended read for the thoughtful!"

"Colored Floodlights is a story with a great plot line that questions whether war is worthwhile or does it bring casualties years after it is over. The main characters Parker, Katrina, Roy and Kimberly are totally believable, especially Roy, as he tries to get beyond PTSD."
Readers Favorite   July 2012
                                   
From Kirkus Reviews

“While there are some action-packed scenes, this is a character-driven novel. The engaging writing style and the shifts in point of view mean the book flows swiftly along.”

Kirkus Reviews   August 2012


COLORED FLOODLIGHTS
a novel
                                                                                      


This novel is about a returning veteran, suffering from PTSD, who finds a changed world when he comes home. He cautiously confronts this world of Occupy protests, bizarre 2012 election campaigns, the healing process, and a new love.
Having served three tours in Afghanistan, Roy returns to Jacksonville, Florida to try and live a normal life, which is difficult to do with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Following a car-jacking, a shooting, and even a house fire, Roy is fortunate enough to have a young psychologist named Parker Boyce not only treat him with therapy but befriend him as well. Dr. Boyce has Roy move into his upscale home in an affluent neighborhood of the 1% and treats him like he is a part of the family.
The doctor’s wife has a younger sister named Roberta and a romance develops between Roberta and Roy. She takes him to some of the Occupy Wall Street protest rallies that are going on in major cities all over the country, but he never really quite understands the ‘1% vs. the 99%’ confrontations that take place at these events. Finally, a moment comes one day when he loses control and shows a side of himself he has tried to keep hidden from everyone else.
 
Excerpt from COLORED FLOODLIGHTS
   


The drive to Atlanta from Jacksonville was an easy one and they made it in about six hours, only stopping once for a bathroom break and to buy a value meal at McDonalds.
They drove into downtown Atlanta the next morning after spending the night at a Super 8 just outside of town. Roberta pulled out a flyer that gave the location of the rally and asked Roy to stop at a gas station they were passing so she could get directions. She bought a cheap map at the station and brought it back out to the truck.
“Find it?” Roy asked.
“I’m looking.” Roberta studied the map.
“Too bad we don’t have a phone with GPS on it,” Roy commented.
“Yeah, I had a real cool Droid last year but it broke. All I have now is this cheap flip phone.” Roberta held a small pink flip phone in her left hand while her right index finger traced a line on the map. “There, I found it.” She had located Woodruff Park and she began giving Roy directions.
“Now you stick close to me when we get there, you hear?” Roy feigned more excitement than he really felt, for Roberta’s benefit. He had begun to have some reservations about being caught up in such a large crowd of people. He reached in his shirt pocket for a Xanax and realized he had forgotten to bring any with him. However, he thought to himself, he was still on his other meds so he might be okay. He occasionally glanced over at Roberta while she gave him directions to the park. He wanted her to enjoy herself but he also wanted them to stay safe. She had prepared new protest signs for them which rested in the space behind the truck’s bench seat. One said “Who do you protect? Who do you serve?” which Roberta was planning on carrying. The other one said, “The whole world is watching.” That one was for Roy.
“Turn here!” Roberta sounded excited. “We’re almost there.”
When Roy turned the corner he saw a very large crowd of protesters gathered in the park and an equally large number of police officers dressed in full riot gear. Although this unsettled his nerves even more he didn’t let Roberta see it. Parking the truck along a side street, they walked about a block and a half to the park, already carrying their signs.
From an upstairs window overlooking the sidewalk they heard a male voice shout down at them, saying, “Go back home you losers!”
Roy stopped and looked up at the guy who was staring out a third floor window at them. “You wouldn’t be talking to us, would you?” Roberta grabbed his arm and pulled him along the sidewalk, aware that he was getting upset.
“What an asshole,” he said to Roberta. “Pardon my French.”
“Roy, there’s going to be a lot of people who don’t appreciate what we’re doing, don’t you know that?”
“I suppose.” He walked along quietly now.
As they approached the park they could feel the tension in the air. There was one protester standing on a bench making some sort of speech but they couldn’t really make out what he was saying. As they got closer they realized it was none other than Herman Cain, who had just dropped out of the Republican primary over some possible marital indiscretions. He was speaking in a soft but firm tone, pleading with the protesters to turn around and go back home, that they were making a big mistake, and that the police meant business. He was being heckled by the crowd surrounding him and a few of them were throwing what looked like tea bags at him, shouting that he ought to be the one to leave and some of them chanting, “The whole world is watching!”
“Hey, that’s what’s on my sign,” Roy commented.
“That’s right Roy,” Roberta said with great enthusiasm and a grin on her face, “the whole world is watching! Come on now, follow me.” She bounded forward into the crowd with Roy in tow.
She pushed her way through the crowd until she came to an elevated platform which she could stand on and get a better view of the entire rally. There must have been over a thousand people there already and her excitement grew. “Look at all these people, Roy!”
“Yeah, and look at all the cops on the other side of the park.” Roy pointed to an area in the opposite direction. Roberta turned her gaze towards the police and laughed loudly. “They can’t do anything to stop us Roy. Come on, raise your sign high up in the air. This is what it’s all about.”
Roy shared none of her enthusiasm and, in fact, was wishing they could leave the rally. He had a bad feeling about the whole thing. As he stood watching Roberta, he saw Herman Cain being escorted away from the crowd by a half dozen officers in full riot gear. All of the protesters surrounding them were chanting as the cops walked him back out of the park. He had either given up on trying to stop the rally or they were taking him away against his will for his own safety, it was hard to tell. But the chanting did grow louder as Cain left the park, as though they had won some sort of a victory.
Roy felt unsure of himself and he didn’t like the feeling. If he had only remembered to bring his Xanax it would have been better. But now, without it, he was unsteady and nervous. “Roberta,” he began, “we should go.”
“What? Are you nuts? We just got here.” She was pumping her sign up into the air.
“No, I mean we should leave now. I just feel it. Something bad is going to happen.” Roy looked paranoid as he pulled on her hand.
“You go, then. I’m staying.” She was determined not to leave.
“I can’t do that.”
“Well, then just relax. Nothing bad is going to happen.” Just as she spoke a sound of loud whistles and a voice over a megaphone came from the area where the police were stationed. The protesters were instructed to prepare to leave the park. They did not have the proper permit and if they did not leave they would be escorted out of the park.
At this point the crowd of protesters grew louder with their chanting. At first, from where Roberta stood, she couldn’t see the first group of officers move into the crowd to begin making arrests. Suddenly everything escalated and the police were all moving into the crowd and makings arrests and dragging protesters away by their arm when they refused to disperse.
The tear gas canisters went off next. Throughout the park clouds of smoke billowed in patches over the sea of protesters. When one landed next to where Roy was standing, he was, for just a few seconds, back in Afghanistan. He quickly reached down and picked up the small smoking canister and hurled it with all his strength back towards the police as the flesh of his palm burned from the hot metal cylinder and his eyes and throat burned from the gas.
Seeing who had thrown the canister back at them caused a large group of officers to move through the crowd straight towards Roy and Roberta. He looked up at her and said, “Now do you see what I mean? Let’s get out of here.” Many of the protesters had cheered Roy’s tossing of the canister and now they moved closer together to block the oncoming officers as they too choked and coughed. Roy looked down at his burnt hand and knew he was not actually in Afghanistan. He grabbed Roberta’s hand with his good hand and pulled on her to leave.
They made their way through the crowd in good time and the police never got close enough to them to catch them. They were back on the side street heading for Roy’s truck and the rest of the crowd was beginning to violently resist any peaceful arrests the police were trying to make.
Once inside Roy’s truck, they drove straight back to Jacksonville, first stopping at a Walgreens to buy some salve and bandages for Roy’s burnt hand, a large bottle of Visine eye drops, and a fried chicken dinner for the road at a KFC located in the corner of the parking lot. Once back on the highway, Roy was using his left hand to drive the truck and kept his bandaged right hand in his lap to rest it. He let Roberta feed him pieces of chicken and the honey laden biscuits as he drove back towards home.
“I was very proud of you back there when you threw that tear gas bomb back towards the police,” Roberta said. “That was very brave of you.”
“It wasn’t a bomb. It was a small canister. And it was very hot. I thought I was in Afghanistan when I threw it so it don’t count for nothing.” He wanted to tell her about his PTSD but figured he would do it some other time. For now, he just wanted to get home. “We’re just real lucky we weren’t both arrested for me throwing that thing. It was stupid.”
“Well, I say it was a brave thing, Roy Calhoun.” Roberta smiled and leaned back against the seat, closed her eyes, and soon fell asleep.
It was only later that night while they were watching the evening news together back at Roy’s apartment that Roberta actually saw cans of pepper spray being used on the crowd, but she said nothing, secretly wishing they had never left the rally. Roberta felt proud as she watched the protesters. Roy, who had taken a Xanax as soon as they got home, stared at the TV in disbelief, as though none of the day had really happened.

Sunday, April 1, 2012

5-star review and an excerpt from A DREAM AWAY, my previous novel.


"The reader will not welcome real life interruptions! " 
***** 5 out of 5 stars 
This review is from: A Dream Away (Paperback)
"A Dream Away by Frank Drury is about many things but is ultimately the story of four people on a metaphorical and literal journey to become a real family and what they must endure to complete that journey. Interspersed throughout the narrative is a character who works against them and provides the suspense that keeps the reader in a state of uncertain anxiety about the family's safety and the strength of the ties that bind its members. Finally, the narrative clips along at such a lively pace that the reader will not welcome real life interruptions. It is a very good read."
Barnes and Noble Reader Review 2012


"This plot successfully shines much needed light upon a subject few understand."                                                          

A Dream Away by Frank Drury is a fictional romance novel. Dobs and Nikki are reunited after thirty years. They are living in California with her two adoptive daughters. Life makes a drastic change when one of the girl’s biological mother decides she wants her daughter back after giving up all rights fifteen years ago. The mentally ill woman is determined to reclaim her daughter. She takes her daughter on a harrowing journey to meet her biological father. Eventually the girl is reunited with her adoptive family. Frank Drury offers readers a glimpse into the mind of a person with Bipolar Disorder. I liked reading this story because of the path it chose to take on the perception of mental illness. I have many years of experience in assessing mental illness behaviors, and could relate to how important it is for available treatment. This plot successfully shines much needed light upon a subject few understand. He accomplished this without sacrificing entertainment, suspense, and romance. Drury brings together several subplots that are very important in today’s society: the struggles of a parent of an adopted child, the struggles of the child to come to terms with being given up for adoption, the emotional stress of the birth parents and most importantly the nightmare of dealing with a person suffering from bi-polar disorder. Until you have dealt with a person suffering from this debilitating disorder you cannot fully understand the pain of loving someone with this condition. This book is appropriate for young adults and adults.
 Readers Favorite 2012   

To preview or order from Amazon.com, click here: Amazon.com
To order as a Nook book go to Barnesandnoble.com
                          
A DREAM AWAY 
a novel
 
Dobs and Nikki, reunited through Facebook after being apart for thirty years, are living happily in Laguna Beach, California with Nikki’s two adopted teenage daughters, Allison and Jamie. Suddenly, fifteen year old Allison’s birth mother appears at their front door and demands to have her daughter back. She had given her up for adoption fifteen years earlier. But now, ravaged with severe bipolar disorder, she wants her back at any cost. She attempts to have Nikki killed, thinking it would then be easier to get her back. She then takes Allison on a harrowing trip up to Washington State to meet her real birth father, now a science fiction writer and devout nudist. Finally, through much struggle, Allison is back with her adoptive parents and foster sister after having experienced the strange world of her birth parents. She now understands why they gave her up in the first place.
    


A DREAM AWAY - an excerpt




Andrea, or Andi, as she preferred to be called, sat in the back seat of the police car and stared out the window at the night sky as they traveled along the 55 towards Santa Ana, where the Orange County jail was located. She knew they were probably going to hold her overnight and then release her in the morning, just like last time. She wished she had brought her meds with her. But they would have probably taken them away again, just like the last time. She needed them for her bipolar disorder. It would come and go. As long as she took her meds daily she could ride out the rough times, but when she missed a day or two, everything got all screwed up. She would just take them when she got back to her house in the morning.
She knew she needed to stop getting arrested like this or she would never get her daughter back. Her precious angel, Allison, she had given up at birth fifteen years ago when that asshole Ron had gotten her pregnant. He had told her he was using a condom. Like a fool she had believed him.
When the deputy sheriff’s car pulled into the jail facility and she was taken into the intake area, she began to feel a little woozy. Probably from stress, she told herself. Who wouldn’t be stressed in a situation like this? She looked across the room at the clock on the wall. It was almost eleven o’clock. It would be a long night.
The next morning she was arraigned and charged with trespassing. Bail was set at $2,000 and she used her debit card to pay it. On her way home in a taxi, she focused on her plan to get her Alli back. It had taken her years to track her down, and when she had finally found her the adoption had just gone through. She hadn’t even been allowed by the system to challenge it as the natural birth mother. The adoption had been final. If only she had found her earlier. But, after all, she hadn’t really been looking for her that hard earlier.
Her career as an artist had taken priority over everything. She had developed quite a reputation as a wedding artist. She would travel the country to different weddings where she would paint a portrait of bride and groom, sometimes making as much as $5,000 in one afternoon. It only took her a few hours to do it and she was very good at it, as long as she took her meds on a daily basis. If she missed a few days there was no telling where she would end up.
One weekend she ended up in Dallas, where she was supposed to do a painting on a Saturday but somehow ended up at a rodeo, where she attempted to convince one of the cowboys she was there to do a painting of him. Of course, having no idea what she was talking about, he ignored her. She then drove her rental car all the way to El Paso. Not sure why she was there, she turned around and drove back to Dallas, from where she somehow made it to the airport and then back to Orange County by Sunday night. Another weekend with no meds had passed.
As she had the taxi drop her off in front of her house in Lake Forest, she realized her car was still parked in Laguna Beach, close to Nikki’s place. She knocked on the taxi’s window and got back in to the cab, asking him to take her to Laguna for her car. As she thought about the night before, and how much she wanted her daughter back, she began to weep quietly. The driver noticed it and asked her if she was alright. She nodded her head yes and continued to cry all the way to Laguna Beach.
Once behind the wheel of her minivan again, she felt much better. She decided to drive by Alli’s school and see if she could maybe see her walking across the campus. She parked the minivan in a spot close to the front of the school and waited patiently, watching the kids move from class to class. After about an hour and not seeing Alli, she decided to drive home and shower. Maybe come back after school to see if she needed a ride.
At home she reviewed her bottles of meds arranged neatly on the top of the island in the kitchen. She left them there so she would always remember to take them, not that it always worked. She was so excited about getting her daughter back she almost missed her lunchtime pills. But seeing the bottle now reminded her to take them. Bipolar was a bitch.
Once back in front of the school that afternoon, she sat in the minivan and listened to a Shania Twain CD while she waited for dismissal. Once the bell rang and the kids began pouring out of the building, she climbed out of the vehicle and began scanning the crowd for a sign of Allison.
Nikki was just pulling up in front of the school to pick up her daughter when she saw the crazy bitch standing there staring at the crowd of kids. She wanted to get out of her car and inflict some serious physical pain on her but thought the better of it and just parked her car across the street and called Allison’s cell. When she answered she told her to walk around to the side of the school by the gym and she would pick her up there. Nikki started her car and slowly pulled into the traffic to make a right up past the gym. She kept an eye on the crazy lady just to make sure she wasn’t following her. She wasn’t.
         As Nikki pulled up to the entrance of the gym and Allison and Jamie got into he car, she said to them, “We have to have a talk.” The girls gave each other a puzzled look as she continued. “You know that woman that came to the house the other night? The one the police took away. Well,” Nikki paused and looked directly at Allison who was seated in the passenger seat next to her. “She claims she is your birth mother.”
“What?” Allison exclaimed. “How could that be?”
“That’s just it, Allison. It might not be. And even if it is she gave you up fifteen years ago and I am your mother now. She is trying to snatch you up and take you away from me. She was waiting for you in front of the school. That’s why I had you walk around here to this side.” Nikki pulled out into the traffic again and began to head for home as she continued. “And I have to do something about her. I’m supposed to see a lawyer later today. I have no idea what he will recommend but at least I can get some kind of protection order to keep her away from you for now.”
“But she might be my real mother?” Allison offered nervously.
“Yeah, honey. A real Mom. Put you up for adoption as soon as you were born,” Nikki explained as Allison looked at Jamie in the backseat. “But she does claim she gave you your name before she turned you in to child services.”
Jamie spoke up first, saying, “So it might be her real mother? Right?”
“That’s right. Or just a very bad person. Or maybe both, I don’t know. I am taking you guys to the studio where Paul can keep an eye on you and I am driving into Santa Monica to meet with the attorney. Just keep an eye out for her and do not get near her. If you see her call me. I’ll be back by dinnertime.” Nikki looked at Jamie in the rear view window and then back at Allison as she said, “And you two girls know how much I love you, right?” Allison and Jamie nodded in agreement but said nothing.
Later that afternoon, on her way home from Santa Monica, Nikki called Dobs to thank him for the referral. The lawyer had been very impressive, very helpful. He had told her he would have the restraining order issued within a few days and suggested she find some new place to stay with the girls until he was able to finalize it. He had suggested she ask Dobs for help.
“Of course I’ll help you. You guys can stay here at my place for the next few days. I have an extra guest room for the girls.” He was thrilled to get her call as he drove down the 405 towards home. “I’ll be at work most of the day and you guys can just hang out and enjoy the change of scenery. I knew Max would be able to help you out,” he said to her, referring to his attorney friend.
“Thank you so much, Dobs. I really appreciate it! And I owe you big time,” Nikki responded. “That woman is psycho. Can you believe her? Coming to my house like that?”
“Yeah, I know.” Dobs took the Warner Avenue exit as he continued speaking. “So you’ll be over tonight, right?
“Guess so. I am heading back now to pick them up, and then I am taking you and the girls out to dinner. Got a good family place close to home?”
“Olive Garden. Right around the corner from me.”
“Perfect. We’ll be at your place about seven o’clock.” She got the address from him and entered it into her GPS on the dash as she drove down Newport Boulevard towards home.
As she pulled into her driveway she saw the tan VW minivan parked in front of her house and Andrea standing in the driveway, arms crossed. She pulled into the driveway and jumped out of the car, walking quickly up to Andrea and staring into her crazed face. “You crazy fucking bitch. How dare you come back to this house? I will kick your ass into tomorrow, do you understand?”
Andrea was unmoved as she said, “I just want my daughter back. That’s all. Is that really asking too much?”
“Asking too much?” Nikki shouted. “She is not your daughter, never has been. You gave her up, correct? I adopted her. Now get the fuck off of my property.” Nikki dialed 911 on her cell phone.
“Calling the police again? How pathetic. You can not even stand to simply talk through this like a mature adult. I can’t believe they gave you custody of anyone.”
Nikki held the small flip phone tightly in her right fist as she pulled it back and launched a ferocious blow on to Andrea’s chin that quickly knocked her to the ground and almost into unconsciousness. “Now get the hell off of my property.”
The added weight of the cell phone in Nikki’s fist had contributed greatly to the slight fracture now in Andrea’s jaw. As the police car pulled on to Nikki’s street and Andrea struggled to her feet, Nikki was relieved to see it was the same two officers that had come the other night. So she had very little explaining to do. They put Andrea into the back of their car again and drove off without even inquiring about her swollen jaw. Nikki drove to the studio to pick up the girls with a smile of satisfaction on her face and her right knuckles throbbing.