Medically Mystifying I didn't like the title or the short pitch. And not a personal fan of first-person narrative, so pass.
A Jaqlyne Hyde Novel
SciFi Fantasy, young adult read.
What do a hypochondriac Werewolf and an immune deficient vampire have in common? Dr Jaqlyne Hyde
Returning home from a rather underwhelming graduation ceremony Jaqlyne had no idea that her future in the medical profession was sealed inside the oddly shaped package on her front stoop. Inside is a will bequeathing all of Tabitha Hyde’s worldly positions to her. Which included her residence and private medical practice The Hydeaway. She’d never met her Grandmother and now it looked like she never would.
With mounting med school bills and lack of any better legal options Jaq decides to move and takeover as doctor in residence. From the first patient she meets Jaq can tell there something not quite right with the people of Busbee. She’s so informed by her Grandmother charming former protégé Louis Stevenson that the Hyde’s have long catered to the supernatural community of Busbee.
As Jaq settles into her new role as healer she starts to change and grow, like she’s becoming a new Jaq.
Link to Book- http://www.authonomy.com/books/46364/medically-mystifying-a-jaqlyne-hyde-novel/read-book/#chapter
Chapter One - Beginning The End
The day that my life changed forever began as a most momentous and memorable day. GRADUATION. I had spent a considerable chunk of my childhood working towards this milestone. Do you know how many parties I missed? I’m not quite sure as I was never ever technically asked to any. Do you know how long you can appear to be functioning normally though sleep deprived? There are only so many Diet Cokes you can drink until it starts to feel like your body has more bubbles than blood. But being averse as I am to the whole tea and coffee scene it was my stimulant of choice. According to my mother I am not a nerd, just extremely focused. It all began when at the age of five, my occasionally and soon to be never present father handed me an old fashioned ragdoll dressed as a doctor.
“Take this and it’ll make you happy,” he said. Always having a strong desire to please my father I immediately reached out and took the offering.
Looking back, I realize I was too young to be perturbed by the curious shiver that ran through me as the soft and tattered material of the doll’s white lab coat connected with my hand. Seeing as this was the last time I saw my father I find it particularly peculiar that this brief interlude would map out the next twenty years of my life. So here I am today in my ridiculously expensive and unflattering cap and gown, waiting to finally take part in the time honored tradition that would bring a culmination to my medical education. Being fairly short with short black hair and the long billowing black cape, I thought I looked like the stereotypical witch, minus the pointy hat and feline familiar. It did help that there were about fifty other could-be witches sitting on the stage with me.
Graduating med school was a bit of a let down to be honest. I mean, I was proud of myself. I’d worked hard. But seriously, walk across the stage shake my hand, “That’s it you’re done. Move along. Go forth and cure?” My mother was there for the obligatory photo and heartfelt congratulations. That was the day I officially became Dr Jaqlyne Hyde. Yes believe me, I’ve heard it all before so let’s just say enough said and it leave it there. After ten minutes of pleasantries, my mother pecked me on each cheek, vey French darling and announced,
“I’m very proud that you have finally finished your studies”.
I gritted my teeth at what was sure to be the first of many backhanded compliments she was about to deliver.
“Now maybe you’ll have time to concentrate on finding a husband,” she tittered.
“You are nearly twenty-six and you’re not getting any younger”. I had to bite my lower lip to stop myself marking a snarky comment at her favorite and much over used sentence. The only thing that changed from year to year was my age and the mounting terror I saw in her eyes. I had learnt the trick with the lip a few years ago and it worked extremely well, but had one small drawback. An indentation below my lower lip, I though it was well worth the scar. Know I was more than capable of making a winning comeback, but I’d rather deal with the physical pain that the crippling guilt that always eclipsed it.
“But I must dash off Sweetums. I’ve got a meeting in twenty that I absolutely cannot be late for. Today’s the day we decide whether to change the skirt length at school. I’ve worked up an extensive PowerPoint that will leave no doubt in the board’s mind that I am right. Those girls will get shorter skirts over my dead body.”
My mother, Daphne Hyde, as head of Wooderson Hall, the premier girls school in the western hemisphere according to her, lived by a strict moral code. You only had to look at what she was wearing today, a black tailored skirt, red linen shirt and bespoke jacket, to know that this lady was all about control. Her outfit was taken from the ordinary to the extraordinary by the little accents of jewellery that adorned her. As she breezed out of the room in a cloud of Yves Saint Laurent, people turned to find the source of the staccato beat that emanated from her strident footfalls. She was short like me. But unlike me, she was never lost in a crowd. In fact she seemed to draw all eyes to her. We both had black hair but while I kept mine to a femininely acceptable short pixy length, she had long flowing curls that even when pinned back escaped in tiny tendrils of lusciousness.
I stood alone now, having neglected to make friends over the past two decades. Deciding that home was where I needed to be, I de-gowned and got into my bright banana-yellow Volkswagen bug. I loved my car. We’d been through so much together. He’d helped me get over my first crush and I’d changed his tyres. He didn’t even complain when I sang loudly off key to the radio. I parked the bug on the flattest part of the driveway as the brakes have seen better days. When I started university I moved out of my mother’s house and into a student share house. The house had put on a never-ending parade of unmentionably comical and horrendous roommates. I approached the run down house, taking note of the peeling paint and the cracked windowpanes. I didn’t notice the large package on the front step till my foot came into contact with it. Kneeling down I grabbed the address card and, with a flash of joy, saw my name. Sitting on the step I picked up the package and began to peel away the thick brown paper. Burnished wood peeked out at me in the form of a large rectangular box with big brass hinges. Taking the box inside I set it on the kitchen table pushing aside the built up debris that resided on the tabletop. I opened the lid and leaned in excitedly for a better look.
Upon first inspection it appeared empty, but as my eyes adjusted to the gloomy interior a handle came into view. Grabbing the silver handle and pulling firmly, an old-fashioned black leather doctor’s bag pulled free. Placing the bag beside the box I was bemused to see that the bag appeared to be bigger than the actual box. Being of an analytical nature I rationalised that it was some sort of an optical illusion. Returning to the box I realized that it had two other occupants, a letter and some keys. I first picked up the large blood red square envelope that was addressed to myself. The heavy paper was tough and it took a considerable amount of strength to rip it open and prise free the sheaf of old fashioned parchment within. The author’s obvious penchant for Black ink curly cursive made the penmanship in the letter almost as exciting as the words they contained, which were as follows;
I know this letter may come as a bit of a surprise to you, as before today I don’t even think you knew of my existence. I wanted to contact you sooner, but I had to respect your mother’s wishes and stay away. However there was no way I was going to let this special day go by unnoticed. I was so proud that you inadvertently chose to follow in my medical footsteps. As is customary on these occasions I have a gift for you, I Tabitha Hyde bequeath to you Jacqlyne Hyde, daughter of my only son, all my earthly belongings. A house, a practice and full schedule of loyal patients. You see, the women of the Hyde family have been granted the gift of helping and healing the extraordinary. The house is located at 7 Blackbird Lane in the town of Busbee. Upstairs are your living quarters and downstairs is a private general practice, which I ran successfully for many years. I know that you probably didn’t expect to have your own practice at such a young age. You most likely want to be a famous surgeon or such. I am asking you, as your grandmother, just try it? I think that you will find it surprisingly rewarding and exciting. It would take me too long to fully inform you of the practice’s day-to-day goings on, so I think you’ll just have to go and find your own way.
Love your Grandmother Tabitha Hyde.