Beginning the countdown...

Happy Tuesday Bloggers and Fans!  Well, after yesterday's newsworthy post, I am left standing in a void of nothingness, having no news to add about THE SAVANNAH SYNDROME (TSS).  No crazy sale numbers, no surprise reviews left.  There's a growing number of customers who have bought the book, and have grown incredibly quiet, which I am not sure how to take.  I do realize a lot of people are busy, but if TSS is as good as I thought, and hope, it is, it would be engaging enough to draw people in and hold them hostage until they finish reading.  Because of this lack of exciting things to report on, I am beginning a countdown everyday from now until February 13, unless they release the results of the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award's first round sooner.  So as of today, we're 22 LONG days away from learning the fate of TSS, so expect that in each blog's title from here on out, unless something big happens.  I guess there is a little bit of news to report.  I shopped Vernan, the Vegan Vulture  to an agent who writersdigest.com listed as seeking new clients, but she's an agent who will respond only if she's interested, so I will put my faith in her response in the same countdown as the TSS's.  To fill the void I am going to share the second page of the story.  If you are looking for page one,  I believe I shared that three posts ago.  And remember to follow this author's blog over at jzimmerman324.weebly.com!  But here is page 2 and another pic of the beautiful city of Savannah:

above her, she would have spent the early evening gathering fresh rain water, filling up her spare plastic bottles, glass jars, and anything else she had on hand to collect the one supply she could never have enough of.  At the very least, if there had been rain, she would have been in the safety of her quarters and, perhaps, in a position to defend herself.

But none of those things happened as they could have, perhaps should have.  Instead, when she had awakened, it was the most breathtakingly beautiful day since the summer had chased away the coolness of spring.  And despite still having meat left over from her most recent kill, she had decided it was a good day to go to the river.

She rose from the bed, where years before, she had pushed two of the wooden bunks together and removed the outer boards to give herself a bigger sleeping area.  She used the queen mattress with a worn blue blanket from the Commanding Officer’s exhibit across the parade ground.  She had spent a few years sleeping in the Commanding Officer’s room, which still contained furniture from Colonel Brown’s wife:  a large wooden spinning wheel and a round wooden table complete with four wrought iron chairs.

     Those were her early days at the Fort.  She would eventually begin to distrust her safety of the open glass windows of the room.  Once she had acquired a pair of locks, with keys, of course, and a solid chain during one of her scavenging trips to the island called Tybee, she moved her sleeping quarters to the eastern side of Fort Pulaski and into the prison casemates.  There she felt safer locking herself behind the iron bars.  The prison area had two sets of doors.  She had found the locks still in their packages on a nearly empty convenient store shelf.  Luckily for her, during the Dividing War, the displaced citizens of Tybee Island had not seen the need for looting all the locks out of one of the shops called a Pharmacy.  Of course, she had taken the last two from the looted, lonely store.  She grabbed her set of keys, one marked with an ‘N’ and the other with an ‘S’ in worn permanent marker.  Her spare set was hidden in the southwest 

River Street, before the fall of society, as depicted in TSS.