Friday, March 6, 2020

FREE BOOK TODAY: The Baslicato by Carol Ann Kauffman


When Dr. Brook Wilson agreed to take on celebrity Italian race car driver Jason Maxwell, known as"The Baslicato," as her patient, little did she realize their relationship would turn her calm, pleasant, well-ordered life upside down, sending her off on dangerous adventures in southern Italy and northern Ohio. As she prepares him for his big race, she must deal with his demented wife while driving her boyfriend, Dr, Garrett MacEgan into acts of criminal desperation in a attempt to hold on to her.
When tall, handsome British actor Richard MacKenzie wakes up in the hospital after an accident, he discovers he's a short Italian race car driver named Jason Maxwell, known as THE BASLICATO.


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Dear Gentle Readers,
The Basilicato is special to me because my wonderful father was born in Basilicata Province in Italy, so to me he was the original Basilicato. And of course, he was a pedal to the metal driver. I remember him being the ONLY father who said "You need to go faster" when teaching his young teenage daughter to drive. 
This is a fun story, but you'll have to suspend your current belief system and temporarily believe that a man can wake up in another man's body.
Hugs,
Carol

EXCERPT:
Dr. Wilson opened the door to find her patient resting. She closed the door and approached the bed. His eyes were closed.

“Mr. Maxwell? Mr. Maxwell, I’m Dr. Wilson. I’m a neurologist. Your father called me in as your specialist.” He stirred. He opened his eyes and gave her the most beautiful smile she had ever seen in her life. It was heart stopping. And those eyes! And just where have YOU been all my life, she thought to herself, surprised by her own reaction to him.
“Hello, my love, I am so glad you’re here. I’ve been calling you. Did you hear me?” He reached for her and pulling up toward her, hugged her middle tightly, burying his head in her breasts, and leaving her momentarily stunned. 
“Oh, my head hurts. Nothing makes any sense. What happened to me, do you know? Did they tell you anything? They won’t tell me a damn thing. They just tell me to rest,” he said. 
She hugged him back just enough to hit the button on the other side of his bed. Her two assistants came in and pulled him off of her.
“Nicole, love, what’s the matter? What’s wrong?”
“Mr. Maxwell, listen to me carefully. I am afraid you have me confused with someone else. I am your new doctor, Dr. Brook Wilson. Now, are you going behave and keep your hands to yourself or do I need to restrain you?” 
He looked at her and blinked. He became very agitated.
“Nicole? Keep my hands to my… What’s the meaning of this? You know me! You know who I am. Richard. Richard MacKenzie, your husband, not some… Mr. Maxwell. And you are my wife, Nicole,” he said unwaveringly. He paused and thought a moment and began to doubt himself. “Oh, what’s the matter with me? Nicole! Why don’t you know me? My God, will this bloody nightmare never end?” He held his head with both hands, visibly shaken. She very gently injected him with something to calm him down, to make him sleep a little, and give her some time to figure out what was going on here. She didn’t let him see the needle. Somehow, she knew he hated needles. She noticed he was dehydrated. What had happened to him? What had they done to him? She checked his chart. He didn’t come in through the regular emergency room route and he had not been given any kind of preliminary examination. And she wanted a thorough one.
“Where are his personal belongings?” 
She was handed a bag. Inside were a bloody long sleeved white shirt, good quality, and a pair of jeans.
“This is it? This poor man has experienced more trauma than a bump on his head. Take off his jogging suit. Dell, record my observations for Dr. MacEgan.

“Patient Jason Maxwell has lacerations and bruising around both ankles and wrists, deeper on wrists, deepest on the outsides of the wrists. Definitely dehydrated. Eyes bloodshot. Pale. Thin. One large contusion, left side of his head near his temple, could possibly cause his memory loss. Bruising in stomach area. Burns on his chest, upper front thighs. These on his chest are cigarette burns, but these thigh ones are larger, round, very uniform. Some kind of electrical burns, maybe. I’m not sure. Assorted cuts, welts, and bruising over his shoulders and back. Shoulder muscles swollen and distended. No defensive wounds. Nothing under his nails. End observation. Dr. Brook Wilson, 4:45 P.M., Feb. 8, 1963.” 
She removed her gloves and made a few notes.
“Paul, I want photos of the lacerations and bruising to accompany my observations. Take the film to the darkroom photo lab in the basement and ask Bobby to put a rush on them for me. Have the photos sent to my office as soon as possible. And, Dell, as soon as Paul is done, gently treat these wounds and make this poor guy as comfortable as possible. Start an IV drip; he’s dehydrated. Make it my special vitamin solution. Get him hooked up before he comes around so he doesn’t feel the needle. His lips are so dry and cracked. I guess I shouldn’t have threatened to restrain him. But I had no idea.”
Paul left to get the camera and film. Dell left to get a wound dressing kit. She sat next to him on the bed and swabbed his lips and tongue with a wet sponge. She stroked his head while he slept.
“It’s okay, you’re safe now, Richard. I’m here and I’ll help you. I’ll make sure you’re okay. I’ll do whatever it takes. And you’ll be happy to know I’m very resourceful and perseverant. I won’t stop until you are well again. You’ll feel better very soon, I promise you.” She felt she knew him. There was something about him that was so familiar to her. She felt an instant connection to him. “I need to go talk to Garrett right now. But I’ll be back soon. I am here for you. You’re not alone. You’re going to be okay,” she patted his arm, restraining the giant urge she had to crawl in next to him, hold him in her arms, kiss his forehead, and comfort him.
She shook herself back to reality and walked down the hall to Dr. MacEgan’s office, thinking how badly she must need this vacation if she suddenly had the urge to snuggle up in bed with a patient. She knocked on Dr. Garrett MacEgan’s door.
“Yes?”
“Dr. MacEgan? I need to talk to you about patient John Johnson.”
“Come in, hon, I thought we’d leave at six. Will that give you enough time to make some notes and prescribe some medicine and therapy for the speed demon in Room 517?” 
She came in and closed the door, and sat down across from him.
“Garrett, does his father have any idea what happened to him?”
“No. Thad was alone, as directed, at the specified site to drop off the ransom money when a white van with no license plates pulled around the corner, a man in black took the suitcase that Thad placed in the designated spot, opened it and checked it out, and the back doors of the van flew open and his son, bloody and unconscious was thrown out the back. The van took off. 
“Thad brought him straight to me, with a clean jogging suit. Sean and I put him in a room and I had Casey wipe off his face and change his clothes. Thad expects complete confidentiality and our undivided attention. He doesn’t want any member of the press sneaking in here and photographing Jason or getting their hands on any of his medical records. Brook, he is our largest single investor. His only son loves the salt flats and we’ve taken care of an assortment of broken bones, giant body scrapes, and other assorted disasters for the daredevil Mr. Maxwell over the years. I’m surprised you’ve never treated him before. Really? He’s been in our emergency room often, very often. We patch him up, he bounces off the table, and he goes right back out there and does it again. Thad has been extremely generous to us in exchange for our complete discretion and the fact we keep all press out. Jason’s identity is hidden here. We protect his privacy. Thad has never turned us down. We owe him. I‘ve examined Jason’s cat scans and MRI results, and I have to say, I found nothing that would be causing a problem. His tests are all unremarkable.”
“Well, I examined him,” she said, thinking how she found him to be quite remarkable, “and it appears he has been treated very poorly for the two weeks he’s been missing. This is not a simple kidnap for ransom case, Garrett. He was tortured. Casey didn’t mention anything to you? Someone wanted to hurt him, or his father. Luckily, he remembers nothing. I’ve ordered a few tests run before I prescribe meds and therapy.”
“Okay, okay, but then we’re leaving.  At seven o’clock. Meet me at the back door at seven, or I’ll send my two new very strong male nursing assistants to find you, pick you up, and carry you to my car.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“Got it, back door, seven o’clock,” she giggled as she left his office.

An hour later, in the West Memorial Hospital neurological suite, a refreshed Jason Maxwell was undergoing a different kind of examination requested by Dr. Wilson. Dr. Leo Williams, also a member of their neurological team, conducted the test.
“Now, can you tell me your name, please?” Dr. Williams began.
“Richard John MacKenzie”
“You were kidnapped. Did you recognize any of your captors?”
“No.”
“Do you remember being kidnapped?”
“No.”
“Where have you been for the last two week?”
“I don’t know. Really, I don’t.”
“Were you mistreated?”
”No. Well, I don’t remember being mistreated, but I have quite a collection of wounds and bruises to indicate the contrary.”
“What is the last thing you remember?”
“I remember walking home in the rain after an evening meeting at my club in London. My lovely wife was waiting for me, and I was anxious to get back home to her,” he smiled.
“And who is this?” Dr. Williams showed him Conference Room One on screen with his father, Thaddeus Maxwell.
“Sorry. I don’t know the gentleman.”
“And who is this?” showing him Conference Room Two on screen with his wife, Ellen Maxwell.
“I don’t know her, either.”
“And who is this?” showing him Conference Room Three on screen with his new doctor, Dr. Brook Wilson.
“Ah! That delightful creature is my wife, Nicole. Nicole MacKenzie. Oh, and she made me work at it to get her to marry me. It took years, a decade actually.”
“Her full name, please.”
“Nicole Marie Minnotti MacKenzie. May she come in here with me please? I would feel much more comfortable if my wife were in here with me.”

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