Bonus Epilogue
Meet Dr. Mason Thompson, the enigmatic hero of Sensual Nights .
You may remember him as the bartender at Sarge's Sandbar in this story, Seductive Nights , but there’s so much more beneath the surface. Once a skilled trauma surgeon in the US Military and later in the private sector, Mason’s life took a dramatic turn that led him to the quiet town of Blossom Springs. What could drive a man from saving lives in the operating room to pouring drinks in a small-town bar?
Dive into Mason’s story to uncover the heartbreak, the trauma, and the passion that reshaped his world. You won’t want to miss it.
A call came into the hospital via the helicopter response team.
"We have a gunshot victim coming in five. Need trauma team activation; severe blood loss, massive trauma."
The operator receiving the call replied, "On it."
She immediately pressed the button on her phone to the trauma team. "Incoming gunshot patient, severe blood loss. Doctor Thompson and all surgical staff report to OR two."
Mason hurried from the doctor's lounge and jogged down the corridor to operating room two. His heart raced, and the adrenaline immediately pumped through his body. The outside door crashed open as he put on his rubber gloves. Dashing to the gurney as they wheeled it into the OR, he yelled. "Report."
"Airway restriction. Administered one thousand ccs of isotonic solution to maintain BP. Tranexamic Acid administered to reduce blood loss. Heavy compression on wound. Transport was only ten minutes, not enough time for anything else."
Mason took a deep breath and stared down at the man lying on the gurney. How many hundreds just like him had he seen? How many of them didn't make it? Sweat beaded on his forehead and rolled down his back. His breathing came in spurts, and his vision dimmed slightly. He mumbled to himself, "Hang on."
He shook his head quickly to get it back in the game. "I need two thousand cc's of Lactates Ringer’s. Get his BP. Intubation tray stat. Send for blood." He swallowed. "Type?"
"O-negative," someone called out.
A scalpel was pressed to his hand. He kneaded the man's throat with his fingers, found the perfect spot, and pressed his scalpel to it to open his trachea. He made quick work of inserting the tube, and the whoosh of air dispelled from the man's body also brought with it blood. His vision dimmed again as the scurrying of medical professionals around him faded. He continued to sweat profusely, his hands shook, and he needed to get out of there.
"Doctor?"
He turned toward the voice. An intern he'd been working with in the hospital stared at him. Brows furrowed. Mason growled. "Take over, stat."
He stepped away as the intern replaced him. He made his way to the scrub room and sat on the stainless bench near the wall. He absently pulled his gloves off and tossed them in the wastebasket. He bent over to put his head between his knees. He had to get out of here. He was a hindrance at this point in his career.
All the young men and women he'd seen on the battlefield in Afghanistan came to haunt him every night in his dreams. Actually, nightmares. Especially those he couldn't help. The blank stares on the battered faces haunted him. Another life lost in a war on foreign soil. How many more?
His heart squeezed, and his breathing shallowed. He couldn't seem to get his lungs to take in a full breath. "Hey." A soft voice somewhere near him called.
He swallowed and tried to even his breathing out. It took everything he had in him to regulate himself. His breathing, his heart rate, sweating, and shaking. He closed his eyes tighter and inhaled a deep breath and held it. After a moment, he let it out slowly. He repeated this several times.
"Hey, Mason," the voice called again. He lifted his head and saw the young intern he'd turned his patient over to so unprofessionally.
His voice was dry and gravelly when he responded, "How did it go?"
"He's stable."
Mason nodded his head. "Thank you."
The intern, what was his name again? It didn't come to him just now, sat on the bench next to him. "How are you?"
Mason sucked in another deep breath. "I'm not good here. I have to leave."
"Yes. Maybe tomorrow you'll feel better after some rest."
"No." He cleared his throat. "I'm not good here.” He pointed to the ground. “I'm not good for anyone here. I had a panic attack with a patient on the table."
The intern sat quietly for a moment. After a lengthy silence, he asked, "Are you seeing a counselor?"
"No."
He sat up straighter and turned to face him. "You need to. There's no shame in asking for help. It's actually the least shameless thing you can do. Getting healthy again is good for you. It's also better for the people around you. With your training and experience, you can help so many people. But you need to be healthy to do it."
He held out a small rectangular business card. "This is who I see. He's fantastic. Please call him."
Mason swallowed the dry lump in his throat and gently took the card held out to him. His eyes met the intern's dark eyes, and he nodded. "Thank you."
"Thank you for your service, Mason. Please get help so you can help others. And I'm always here to talk with you if you want or need."
The intern left the room as quietly as he entered, and Mason hoisted himself up off the cold bench. He waited until his body adjusted to standing and his head stopped swirling. As soon as he was able, he shuffled to the Chief of Staff's office and knocked on the door. He couldn't be responsible for another life to be lost. He couldn't let the ghosts in the night increase in numbers. He needed to move on.
T hank you for reading Seductive Nights and this introduction to Mason Thompson from Sensual Nights . I hope this brief snippet of Mason has piqued your interest in Sensual Nights .
Mason thought he left the battlefield behind, but his past still haunts him. Now working as a bartender in Blossom Springs, he meets Carley Peters, a real estate agent rebuilding her life after a painful breakup. When Carley uncovers a dangerous secret in one of the condos she’s selling, her life is thrown into peril.