Heart of Ice

Heart of Ice
(A Louis Kincaid Novel)
Author: P. J. Parrish
Mass Market Paperback: 432 pages
Publisher: Pocket Books (February 26, 2013)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1439189374
ISBN-13: 978-1439189375

Book Description:
Detective Louis Kincaid cracks a murder case frozen in time in this new work of “crime fiction at its finest” (Lee Child) from bestselling author P. J. Parrish.

 Florida PI Louis Kincaid wants to wear a badge again. But before he can, he must return home to Michigan— and some unfinished business. He hopes to bond with ten-year-old Lily, the daughter he only recently learned existed, and reunite with girlfriend Joe Frye. But new clues to an unsolved murder put his plans on ice. A trip with Lily to enchanting Mackinac Island turns grim when the child falls on a pile of old bones; the dangerous discovery reopens the cold case of Julie Chapman, a teenager from one of the wealthy summer families, who vanished two decades ago. And when Louis is forced to cooperate with a tough state investigator who once worked with Joe, tensions skyrocket. Now, what was supposed to be a time of building lasting ties splinters into disturbing fragments, personally and professionally, as Louis pursues a mystery entangled in dark family secrets and twists even he can’t predict.

Idgie Says:
Louis Kincaid is not a hard boiled, burnt out detective that is the usual character  in these types of books.  He's a regular Joe PI who recently found out he has a 10 year old daughter.  He's attempting to bond with her on vacation, but while there stumbles across a 30 year mystery.  Literally, they stumble onto bones.

Louis has no intention of helping to solve the case as he's on vacation, but when his newly found daughter decides he needs to help people, he sticks with it.  Really, who can ignore a small girl's big eyed pleading? Small town island mysteries start to come to light in unforeseen ways.  Unexpected surprises pop up along the way.

It's an interesting forensic crime mystery novel involving a murder in 1969, family bonding and strife along with tough working relationships. 

A fast read that keeps your interest.

Southern Voices 2013 - A Most Excellent Adventure!

It was another fantastic year for The Hoover Library's Southern Voices Festival!  The 21st year that Hoover has worked so hard to ensure that one of the finest author events out there came to fruition again and once more sent everyone home more than satisfied with their time spent.  

The line up this year was superb.  Authors from several different genres and experience levels were there to make sure we were not only entertained, but educated, enlightened and excited about learning how the writing process came to be in their lives. 

Hoover has been under pressure to grow Southern Voices in size - the event has traditionally been in the library theatre (a library with a theatre - I love it!) and this only allows 250 people to attend.  While I do understand no one wanting to be left out, I also find a very strong appeal in the coziness and beauty of the having the event in the heart of the library.  Hoover is trying to please both sides of the fence and I think they managed to do that this year.  

With the exception of Lisa See, all of the authors spoke twice during the Saturday event.  One time in the auditorium and then another in the upstairs Plaza area, which allowed approximately another 100 people to attend. While this kept the authors nice and busy, it also pleased the patrons very much.  The authors themselves had no issue with enjoying the excitement and interest of two different crowds. If this is judged to be a successful endeavor (since all tickets were sold I would say it was) I believe we may see this for future years. 

Repeatedly the authors mentioned that this is the best event they have attended and spoken at, that they were treated wonderfully and that there were never any rough spots or issues that made them regret the invitation.  

As always, this was a multi-day event with music and art.  Of course my concentration has always been on the authors and books.  While I did not get to experience the musical aspect, the art of Alexi Torres was spread throughout the library to be enjoyed for the entire festival by all. With that said, let's jump straight to the authors and what they shared with their audiences!

I hope to be able to update this soon with links to the author videos, but that takes a bit of time for Hoover to put together so I'll add it in down the line.

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Lisa See:  Though she jokes that it's fairly hard to tell, Lisa comes from a huge Chinese American family.  She was raised with rich cultural traditions and stories and she pulls these stories to the forefront of her own novels.  The amount of research she puts into her work is amazing.  I was exhausted just listening to how much work goes into one of her novels.  So I can say that when you read a Lisa See novel, you never have a concern that something was just thrown in there to make the story.  Her books are not only intriguing with great characters, but you also receive a nice history lesson.

Wendy Wax:  Wendy is a lovely author with a warm presence, which is also felt in her novels.  Her characters are easy to relate to and likeable, which is more important than you might expect. She was filled with humor during her time on stage as she described where some of her stories ideas come from and how they make it from her mind into the pages of novel.  Her latest novel comes out of her love of Downton Abbey and again embraces the humor and warmth of Wendy herself.

Dorothea Benton Frank:  What can I say - I expected an experienced and distinguished author who gave a calm and intense presentation of the struggles a writer has as they strive to succeed in the publishing world.  Instead I ended up laughing hysterically while she told multiple stories of what made her decide to become a writer, along with life on the road and the experiences that brought up her ego, and then crashed it into the ground.  Fantastically entertaining.

Tayari Jones: What an inspiration she was to listen to.  Tayari had a dream to become an author since she was a little girl.  She kept at it slowly and steadily and today is a successful author. She told her story with warmth and self-depreciating humor and I love how Judy Bloom became her Publishing Godmother.  She was a gracious speaker who I could have easily listened to for much longer than she was on stage.


Michel Stone: I was so excited to hear Michel as I personally feel like she came out with a full blown winner of a debut novel.  So different than anything I've read before in terms of subject matter.  I was very excited to be able to meet her in person. She took a story of illegal immigrants sneaking across the border into the United States and humanized them.  She made them simply people attempting to better their own lives.  There was much research done to write this book realistically and the stories of that research were simply gripping.

Grant Jerkins:  I don't think anyone but Grant could describe how the urge to write was fostered by a co-worker with a fervent adoration of Alice Cooper.   His journey is a fascinating one and he also shared interesting background information on the actual process of being published.... or being told the publisher wants a different story other than the one presented.  Grant's novels are quirky, dark and intense and it was fascinating to hear where his ideas developed from.

Wiley Cash: It was interesting to meet the debut author who's book is busting down doors and hear not only how the process started but how he's handling the sudden non-stop touring that comes with book fame.  He was lively and personable on the stage and filled with humorous tales of moving from the mountains to the Deep South of Louisiana.... and immediately longing to go home.  But it did help bring his novel to life so it was worth it.

Ron Rash:  As always, Ron was a true Southern gentlemen on stage and regaled the audience with hysterically funny tales of how he gets research for his stories.  There is a huge amount of background digging that goes into his novels.  People may not realize how hard he works to make sure the facts are straight and the details precise in his writing. He then read passages from several of his books, reminding us once again of why he is a success - the words flow like a smoothly burbling brook right into your ears and mind.
                         

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A highly successful event indeed and I cannot wait to see what Hoover comes up with for next year!

Photos of the event

Link to the Southern Voices Event Page

Cat's Eye Marble

Cat's Eye Marble
Author: Leeann Smith
Publisher: Friesen Press
Publication Date: November 2012

Book Description:
Dani learned much too young that fairy tales do not exist for some kids. With an abusive, alcoholic mother that blames her daughter for her own shortcomings and a father that turns a blind eye in order to maintain his own sanity, Dani’s only means of survival is to escape within her mind. After five years of living in hell, Dani finally catches a break. A new family, a new home, and a new life give her the childhood she never had. Just as it seems her life has turned around, fate has other plans. When it all unravels, a teenage Dani sets out on her own. With nothing left, she finds an unlikely hero ready to rescue her from herself and her past. Will Dani be able to put her ghosts to rest or will the past force her to a last resort—revenge?

Cat’s Eye Marble is a heartbreaking journey showing the power of a child’s mind to survive the unspeakable as well as what happens when the walls of defense come crumbling to the ground.

Idgie Says:
The first thing you think when you finish this book is "Thank God it's fiction".  Unfortunately there's far too much of this same story out there in the world.
This child goes through absolute hell and when she finally finds salvation with a good family, that unexpectedly turns on her like a rabid dog also.  That someone who was so loving and kind could change their stripes so completely took me aback and at first I felt the story went too far, but then I thought about how many people have surprised us all with hidden personalities until it was too late.

It's a heart-wrenching story that's appalling and horrific and you feel so much anger towards so many of the characters - for their cruelty, the lack of caring, the avoidance of the obvious.  A young girl mistreated by so many, with so little years of joy and peace.  The end is violent and unexpected, but in reflection not unrealistic.

But saying that - the fact that you feel this anger and horror means that the author has done an excellent job of bringing these characters to life. 

Good job.

The Eskimo Hunts in New York

The Eskimo Hunts in New York
Author: Stefan Kanfer
Publication Date: January 4, 2013
Publisher: StoneThread Publishing
ISBN-13: 9781301975594

Jordan Gulok is an Inuit, an Eskimo in common parlance, and a former Navy SEAL. In his freelance capacity he can do things—like tracking and on occasion killing malefactors—that are beyond the authority of the uniformed services. Jordan has an expense account and liberty to travel throughout the U.S. In turn, the U.S. government has plausible deniability should he ever get caught stretching or violating the law.

In THE ESKIMO HUNTS IN NEW YORK, Jordan’s assignment involves stopping a lethal international group who’s manufacturing illegal and sometimes toxic pharmaceuticals and selling them to victims in Africa, Asia, Europe and America. In one of the worst blizzards in the City’s history, subways, buses and taxis become useless. Even fire trucks and police cars are rendered immobile. But for Jordan cold weather is only a minor obstacle; after all, he grew up hunting polar bear and reindeer on ice and snow.

His targets are managing a multi-billion dollar business that has killed thousands, and they soon become aware of him as their Enemy Number One. The idea of a lone man bringing down their organization is unthinkable. In previous cases, Jordan always acted alone, but as the cartel closes in on him, he turns to Rose Ho, a possible love interest and operative in a regional office of the Department of the Navy.

Rose has great connections—for example, her wealthy father is the unofficial mayor of Chinatown—but are all her connections among the good guys? Can she provide the help he needs, or is she trouble in a green silk skirt?

Idgie Says:
This may sound odd, but Jordan reminds me a bit of Repairman Jack, without any of the paranormal stuff following him around.  A guy who keeps to himself and handles really rough situations, but doesn't come across as the steely eyed, hard assed James Bond type.  He's just a guy hanging around in the background, getting all of the intel and drinking up the scenes.  The difference, of course, is that an Eskimo does rather stand out at times.

He is tough though.  The very first chapter he literally allows himself to get beaten into unconciousness in a bathroom - simply to get himself on the radar, bring him to the attention of the bad guys.

There's some nice background history running through the book - the desperation Jordan feels to escape his small tundra town, to get away from the life he was living, to make something else for himself and not just be another seal hunter for the rest of his life.  The backstory is good and really makes the character.

Read an excerpt from the book HERE.

Q & A with Stefan Kanfer:

Q: Your previous books were with such traditional publishers as Knopf, Random House, Simon & Schuster, Farrar Straus & Giroux, Doubleday. Why did you decide to choose an untraditional online publisher for your new book?I’ve always preferred to stay a little ahead of the curve. When my colleagues were still using Royals and Underwoods, I switched to computers—this was made easy because Time magazine, where I worked as a writer and editor, was experimenting with a main frame setup. When everybody got on that, I bought a PC and learned a new computer language. And then another. And another after that.

Then I got a laptop, and an iPod and iPad when they debuted.

I could see changes coming to retail when I signed onto Amazon years ago. And I could see hidebound, clothbound publishers absolutely nonplussed by the changes wrought by Kindle and the iPad. The fact that my last book, TOUGH WITHOUT A GUN, a biography of Humphrey Bogart, landed on the New York Times bestseller list didn’t deter me from trying something new yet again.

Besides, I had written four bestselling biographies of show business icons, and I thought the string was running out. There are still one or two vanished celebrities who might be considered (indeed Knopf tendered an offer for yet another one), but I became intrigued with the thriller genre and wanted to try it again. I had written two such books years ago -- THE EIGHTH SIN was called a Holocaust thriller and was a Book of the Month Club selection.  

I’m much too proactive to wait around for mainstream publishers to mull over a manuscript for months—their usual procedure these days, when the editors are waiting to see which way the cat will jump.

Moreover, those publishers can now offer writers only one thing that they can’t do for themselves: distribution. And with the demise of Borders there is only one powerhouse brick-and-mortar retailer: Barnes & Noble. As highly as I regard them, I know that Amazon, Smashwords and Apple grow more influential by the day.

Speaking of which, several months ago I arranged to have some of my early books offered on Amazon and Smashwords, using the electronic publisher StoneThread. When its publisher, Harvey Stanbrough, asked me whether I had something original, I sent him my manuscript. He offered to publish it with all deliberate speed, and I knew I had found my kind of ballplayer.


Q:  Why did you decide to make your protagonist an Eskimo? A: Several reasons went into the decision. I was in the army with Native Americans—young men who decided to leave the reservation to seek a career in the outside world via the armed forces. They brought some traditions with them, but they were anxious to get away from the insularity of the rez—and from the poverty and alcoholism they saw around them. Their stoicism, intelligence and resourcefulness were well worth chronicling. But there have already been many excellent novels with Native Americans as the main characters and sleuths—most notably Tony Hillerman’s outstanding Navajo series.

Years ago I met some Eskimos in Seattle, and I found them intriguing. I promised myself to do some research on the Inuit tribe when I bought some Eskimo art in Canada and chatted with some of the sculptors. Last year I made good on that promise, interviewing experts, digging around in old books rather than doing online googling. Perhaps the most memorable passage I came across is from Barry Lopez’s nonfiction book about the frozen north, Arctic Dreams:

“The darker side of the human spirit is not refined away by civilization. It is not something we are done with. Eskimo people, in my experience, have, still, a sober knowledge of their capacity for violence, but are reluctant to speak to it to whites because they have been taught that those are the emotions, the impulses, of primitives. We confuse the primitive with being deranged. They can humiliate you with a look that says they know better.”

It occurred to me that an Inuit would make an ideal protagonist—particularly if his non-Arctic life began when he became a scholarship student at Alaska University. There, Jordan Gulok’s mind would be opened in English Literature courses. His body would be enlightened by a series of intense, if short-lived, campus romances. And his self-confidence would be reinforced when the Navy Seals recruited him for two reasons: his intelligence in the classroom and his prowess as a hunter, a skill that began in the Tundra and carried over to the Alaskan forests.

He would be just as stoic as the American Indians to whom he is distantly related. He would also wind up at the top of his class in search-and-destroy military techniques. He would be sent into action in the Middle East, Near East and Europe, where he would exhibit a remarkable lack of fear, even when wounded in action.

For Jordan Gulok’s first adventure I put him in Manhattan, during one of the coldest winters in New York City history. The native dwellers—including the police—would of course be paralyzed by bad weather, as they always are. But to an Eskimo, who grew up on ice and snow, it would be a minor hindrance, something to be dealt with, not complained about.

Once Jordan becomes involved with the tracking down of criminals in New York, he goes from tourist to tracker, relentless and ruthless in his pursuit of mysterious figures who are not terrorists, who have no interest in politics—but who are mass murderers nonetheless.

Like those aforementioned Indians, Jordan considers himself free of the tribal past. But he, too, carries traditions with him, traditions that emerge in the involuntary memories of flashbacks and dreams—and, naturally enough, in the way he deals with danger as a freelance working in a clandestine arrangement with his once and future employer, the United States Navy. 


Q: You’ve written three novels and a dozen nonfiction books. Why did you choose to return to fiction after a series of bestselling biographies and social histories? Is one genre harder than the other, or do they present very different problems to a writer?I returned to the novel form because, frankly, I missed it. Over the years I almost forgot how much enjoyment I derived from creating and developing characters, placing them in romantic or hazardous situations, putting them in various neighborhoods, writing dialogue and working out plots that reflect our conflicted times.

In some ways writing nonfiction is harder because it requires a great deal of research and interviewing—particularly in the field of biography. I usually steep like a teabag in libraries for a year getting material, learning who the person is and why he or she became an icon. During that time I also talk to their colleagues and families to add to the portrait. Then, of course, comes the actual writing, which can take another year.

On the other hand, lives, as well as social histories, have a beginning, a middle and an end, and the chronology dictates the form. In that sense, nonfiction is easier—nothing is invented, everything is reported. The success of the book depends on the writer's interpretation of events, his insights and his prose style.

Fiction can be said to be easier because the writer makes it all up—save for the physical backgrounds and whatever historical events pertain to the action. But in another sense it’s harder than nonfiction, at least for me, because I don’t write sci fi or the adventures of impervious superheroes. In my view any successful thriller has to be credible; the protagonist, the colleagues, the villains, all have to be recognizable human beings. My central character is a troubled Eskimo with a military background. I set him down in unlikely but real places. When he outwits a foe it’s because he’s plausibly inventive, not because of a deus ex machina; when he’s hit by a bullet he bleeds.

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Across the Universe Trilogy

Across the Universe - 2011
A Million Suns - 2012
Shades of Earth - 2013
Publisher: Razorbill Publishing/Penguin
Author: Beth Revis
Genre: Young Adult Space Sci Fi

First off - no zombies! :)  No nuclear wars!  Simply a good old fashioned space travel novel - pioneers traveling to outer space to find a new planet to live on and claim for human kind. 

This is a true trilogy where the next book picks up directly after the last one, with no backstory fill to speak of.  You would be able to enjoy the later books if you should pick one up on it's own, but there would be a good deal of mystery to the why's and how's.  I highly recommend you start with Across the Universe and go from there.

I am attempting to be careful and not give away good plot points, but as the next book continues the storyline, it's a bit difficult!  So I will warn now... Possible Spoilers Ahead!

Note - while this is a very gripping book and labeled as Young Adult, there are some very adult sections of the book that include rape, suicide and murder.  I would say the Young Adults need to be on the more mature side.

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Across the Universe:
This is a very good young adult book that asks the question - how to control people in a very claustrophobic, no hope of escape setting.

The Godspeed ship has taken great minds of the earth, all with needed skill sets, and cryo-frozen them before sending them off on a 300 year trip to the edges of the universe to populate another planet.  They are to be the salvation of an overpopulated planet.  Amy, a teenager, was allowed to go along with her parents to the new world. 

But Amy suddenly awakens and finds that she's still on the ship and it doesn't arrive at the planet for another 50 years.

Generations of families have lived on the ship to grow food, keep records and make new discoveries and inventions while traveling through space to their new home  - where at that time - they would awaken all of the "experts" to make the planet habitable.

The leader's goal is to keep the ship running, the people calm and the generations growing, at a controlled rate.  But at what cost?  What will they do with Amy, who clearly doesn't fit in and might make people start to question what they've been taught for the last 250 years?
 
A Million Suns:
This story picks up three months after The Elder is now the Eldest, the drugs that kept the population calm and controlled have been destroyed and suspicions are arising that all is not as it should be with the ship.

When Elder finds out the truth about the ship, he's on a race against time to devise a solution that will save it and the people on it.  At the same time, with the calming drugs out of their systems, everyone's true emotions come out for the first time and anarchy and overthrow are a true possibility.

Elders worst fear is what will happen if the people learn the truth about the ship - how will they react and can he remain in control?

At the end of this book in the series yet one more giant surprise causes Elder to re-evaluate everything he believed in and everyone he trusted.  

Shades of Earth:
The last book in the trilogy starts off immediately where the last one ended.  A big secret was discovered while on the ship in the previous story, and a new home has been found for the people.  But the questions arise:  Can they make it to the new home, can they live in it successfully, and why has no one gone there before?

The planet is discovered to hold a violent and malevolent group on it that definitely is trying to make sure humans don't try to settle in. 

Many mysteries are solved in this final book of the trilogy.  Many years of secrets come out and reasons for so many decisions that were made in the past become clear.  Can all of the adversity that these people from the ship face be overcome so that they can finally feel land and air and sun on their faces?

In the end the question remains - why do humans act as they do and why do they not ever seem to be able to live in peace with each other?
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Special Novella, "As They Slip Away" that goes along with the trilogy - free HERE.
Original 2011 Across the Universe Full Review HERE.

Daddy's Darlings, Southern Sweethearts

Daddy’s Darlings, Southern Sweethearts

Bill Prince. January 29, 2013 © All rights Reserved

A few things never change in this modern world. One is the number of unwanted solicitation phone calls that come in and at the worst times possible. Another is the special, sweetest form of love that is shared by a southern dad and his daughters. Now the line from the song Delta Dawn comes to mind, “She’s forty one and her daddy still calls her Baby.” How did all these thoughts start crowding my mind? It was six o’clock AM eastern daylight time in Georgia when the phone rang and woke me to the discovery that some sales soliciting computer had lost its clocking ability and thought it was PM maybe, who knows why the computer burped out that call, but for some reason it woke me before I was ready to be awakened.

What was worse was that it woke Jo as well. We probably would have made a fast recovery and would have been shaking the floor joists with our snoring again in five minutes but for what she said, “Oh, why did I have to wake up? Why did I have to wake up? I was dreaming about my daddy and we were having such a good time. It seemed so real just like we were together again.” Then Jo sobbed a few sobs at the memory of her deceased dad, a man who had left home with a pregnant wife to fight Germans and walked all the way from the English Channel to Berlin in mud so he could help preserve our freedom. When I think of her dad I think of a man who didn’t see his first born till he was a several years old. When she thinks of him, she thinks of the love they shared and their “special” relationship.

I had not been dating her long when she told me a secret, her daddy liked her, no, loved her, more than the other three children. She was special to him. I began to observe and sure enough I think she was one up at least on the rest of them. She told me that once when they were riding in the car, just the two of them, and she told him she loved him so, he said, “Well, I guess you could say we have our own little mutual admiration society.” She always would get a little mushy when talking about her daddy. I always have had his example in mind when I have tried my best to love and cherish her and provide her for the years we have had together.

Now back to the dream. She said, “We were at a dinner at the church. You know daddy loved church socials and good food. He was going through the line with that smile only he had, picking up a dab of this and a dab of that and still his plate was getting overloaded. He looked and me and winked, acknowledging that special connection that had our two hearts plugged together. We were just going to sit together so we could eat and talk when that phone woke me up. Oh! Why did I have to wake up? It seemed so real, just like we were there together again”

She wept a little more and I decided to talk to her some about her daddy and my memories of him and things he told me like, that he felt comfortable with the status of his daughter in our marriage because she was “well cared for” as he put it. He had a way of making me feel good about being his son-in-law. His boys were having trouble with their first marriages at the time and he shared his concern over his boys. I am thankful that Jo and I have made it through and are committed till death do us part. Sadly, she is his only child that can still say that. Not to criticize the others but I think her dad had something when he said she was special.

A southern gentleman loves his daughters in a way that can be summed up by just saying when he thinks of them, they are his babies, no matter how old they are.

I went to make the coffee and read my Bible and Holy Cow! A scripture jumped off the page at me so bright and shiny, blindingly brilliant, that I couldn’t ignore it. I got up immediately and made the following post which included the verse on face book which drew dozens of likes and comments.

Psalms 144:12:…that our daughters may be...polished after the similitudes of a palace.

“My daughters have had some rough edges, like a field stone, but now polished by prayers of parents and the mercy of God they are models of Godly women, cornerstones of their communities. Thank you Lord! Bless my girls today; Cheryl, Jan & Leah, and their daughters, Haylee, Chandler, Caroline and Katherine.”

It was a joy for me to post that for the world to see. The word similitudes is rendered from a Hebrew word meaning “model” and the word palace there can indicate a “cornerstone” or the “best part of a building”. From where I sit, that’s a good description of my view of my girls. I know nobody is perfect and at sometimes I have been a perfectly bad dad, as they have been fieldstones; but as Dr. Williams said, ”We all have our warts.” The love for my girls overwhelmed me.

You see, what got me was that I had developed this immediate and deeply felt desire to be thought of by my daughters as Jo thought of her dad. The experiences of that morning caused by that untimely phone ringing had led me to an emotional upheaval that made me realize how great my girls are, what they have overcome, and how “special” they are to me even though grown and gone away they are still daddy’s darlings and southern sweethearts. I made sure they saw my facebook post and hoped they understood that their daddy was calling them “special’ and that they were partners in a “private little mutual admiration society” between just me & them, individually.

I know that Jo’s relationship with her deceased dad was so special that I will never be able to completely fill his shoes, but I do hope that I can equal it with my own little girls, daddy’s darlings, southern sweethearts.

Fuse

Fuse
Author: Julianna Baggott
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Publication Date: February 19, 2013
ISBN: 978-1-4555-0308-7

Book 2 of the Pure Trilogy

Book Description:
We want our son returned.

This girl is proof that we can save you all. If you ignore our plea, we will kill our hostages one at a time.

To be a Pure is to be perfect, untouched by Detonations that scarred the earth, and sheltered inside the paradise that is the Dome. But Partridge escaped to the outside world, where Wretches struggle to survive amid smoke and ash. Now, at the command of Partridge's father, the Dome is unleashing nightmare after nightmare upon the Wretches in an effort to get him back.

At Partridge's side is a small band of those united against the Dome: Lyda, the warrior; Bradwell, the revolutionary; El Capitan, the guard; and Pressia, the young woman whose mysterious past ties her to Partridge in ways she never could have imagined.

Idgie Says:
This is an interesting series in that the people and the emotions are very real, even though your imagination has to work overtime in parts to "see" what fantastical images are being described.

After the war, people become fused with anything - including dirt (this was the hardest thing for me to wrap my head around).  There are nice shiny clean people in the dome that are protected and then.....well, then there's the rest of the world.  The fused people decide they need to overthrow the pure people from the dome, for many reasons that make a lot of sense. 

There's a lot of humanity in this story and I enjoy that, especially as this is a YA book and I like it when it's not simply filled with random violence and sex.  In fact, there's almost no sex whatsoever in this story, and that also makes a treat from the empty titillation factor. 

I enjoyed this book and Pure and am looking forward to the concluding book. 

Review of Pure can be found HERE

The Good Daughter

The Good Daughter
Author: Jane Porter
Publisher: Berkeley Publishing
Publication Date: February  5, 2013

(A Brennan Sisters Novel)

First Novel - A Good Woman - reviewed HERE.

Book Description:

Kit Brennan has always been the most grounded of her sisters. A Catholic school English teacher for seventeen years and a constant giver, her decisions have been sound—just not very satisfying. Her fortieth birthday is right around the corner, causing Kit to consider some wilder notions, like skipping right past the love and marriage to raising a child all by herself . . .

 

A girls’ weekend away is just the reprieve Kit needs from school, Mr. Wrongs, and life-changing decisions. It’s there that she meets a man who’s dangerous; a man who challenges who she thought she was, or rather should be. Kit wants to indulge herself this once, but with one of her students in crisis and the weight of her family’s burdens weighing heavy on her heart, Kit isn’t sure if now is the time to let her own desires take flight . . .

 

Idgie Says:

Kit is tired of being where she is in life.  She's recently broken off a 10 year relationship and has purchased a house of her own.  Her mother is in the process of dying and she is the one that is expected to take on a majority of the care as she's the single "good daughter".  

 

She is longing for a baby and has started looking around to see what a single woman's chances are.  One irking point to me in this story is she is insisting on a baby, not an older child.  Not only is this harder for a single woman to accomplish, I have to ask why her caring, mothering character wouldn't consider a child of any sort that needs a home.  

Along this path to a new Kit with a new life she has some not so good dating experiences, flashbacks to a trauma that she AND one of her sisters might have endured, discovers an abused child who she attempts to help....and........meets a mystery man who remains a mystery even as her heart gets hooked. 

Kit is a busy girl. 

 

This is a nice "coming of age in your 40s" story, with enough angst and secrets to keep you interested in what comes next.

The Truth About Love and Lightning

The Truth About Love and Lightning
Author: Susan McBride
Trade Paperback, HarperCollins/William Morrow
February 12, 2013
ISBN: 978-0062027283
Ebook: 978-0062027320

Book Description:
As far as Gretchen Brink is concerned, the tornado that just ripped through her land has nothing on the storms of a different sort happening all around her. Her grown daughter, Abby, has returned home with news that she's pregnant, and no, she's not sure whether she's going to marry the father. A man with no memory has been dropped practically on her doorstep. And the not-so-little white lie she's been telling for years is about to catch up with her.
Abby is sure that the mysterious man is her long-lost father, Sam, who has finally returned just when she needs him most. As Abby, Gretchen, and the Man Who Might Be Sam get closer, the lie Gretchen told all those years ago begins to haunt her. When her secrets come out, and Sam's past is finally revealed, will it tear down this fragile life they've built—or will the truth bring them all closer together?

Idgie Says:
This is a nicely fleshed out novel that flashes back and forth in time through the eyes of various characters, slowly building to the secret that Gretchen has been hiding for almost 40 years.

Gretchen has spent her entire life since she was 5 taking care of her sisters and then her baby.  She has long since given up on love.  But suddenly, there's hope in her heart that she might still have that chance again.

Intertwined is also a nice story line with mysticism running through it, a generational ability to create weather that while helping others, takes a terrible toll on the men who own the ability.

A good enjoyable novel filled with love.

A little teaser for you!

Above: Books I have recently read and will have reviews coming up soon (with one or two exceptions still to be read).

________________________________

Below: Books sitting on my desk waiting to be read for review!  

Did I mention I love my job?  

First Love

First Love

Author: Rocky Rutherford

_______________________________

On the first day of the new year, right after noon, I walk into the Down
But Not Out Saloon in Cut Bank, Montana.  It's near zero with swirling
snow.   The road to Great Falls is closed.  I sit across from an old
cowboy business friend who is putting away Jim Beam like it is Pepsi.

 A roasting fire churns in the old cracked and sooted fire place.  A few
cowboys lounge around, all waiting for a weather break so they can get on
with their lives.  Me?  I'd like to get home but it doesn't matter, home
is where I go when there's no other place to go.

I sit for a while watching old Jo Dough getting shit faced by the drink.
He shoves the bottle across the table but I yell at the barkeep for a cup
of cowboy coffee, stuff so strong it will give you the big eye for a week.
 I've never been a drinker.  Anyway it didn't seem to be helping Jo Dough.
 Something is bugging the hell out of him.  Maybe it's our last cattle
deal.
He always sulks after a deal because he figures I always get the best of
him, which ain't so.

"Brander Wayne, you're a crazy little son of a bitch but you always been
straight with me except for hustling all my cows out from under me."  I
fix my coffee up, keeping an eye on Jo Dough.  Sometimes he can go off
like an old rank bucking bull  and I want to make sure I got a way out
when he comes busting out of the chute.

"Thank you, Jo Dough.  You hitting that JB kinda hard ain't you?  You know
how you are when you get shit faced."   He laughs and that makes me feel
better.

He takes another snort then holds the glass at eye level and looks over it
at me like he's squinting down a .30-.30 barrel.  I look for the way out
again.  But he mellows.

"Was you ever in love when you was a kid, Brander?  I mean did you have a
first love that's been with you all your life? I been reading a lot about
this kind of shit and I was wondering."  This shakes me.  I don't want to
lie and I don't want to tell the truth, not yet, at least until I know
what he's driving at.

A couple more cowboys clump in, cussing the weather, yank off jackets and
order double JBs.  Jo Dough frowns at them and they settle down.  One
punches a George Strait number on the jukebox, one about a cowboy finding
out how hot an old flame can be.

"That's the goddamned truth," Jo Dough moans when the singer bawls out a
line saying his love will always be a fire he can't put out.  He glares at
the cowboy who punched in the number then back to me.

"Ain't you gonna answer my question, you little rounder son of a bitch? I
know you been to college and I know you got one of them English
dee-grees."

Something he says puts me back in that place.  I'm on the playground at
Colonial Drive School.  I'm in the seventh grade.  Cold, a soft snow
falling.  It's Valentine's Day.  I'm waiting for someone.  When she gets
here I'll take her books and walk her to the auditorium for the annual
valentine swapping.  We'll sit together and this time I've made up my mind
to be brave.  I'm going to hold her hand and tell her I love her.  I know
I can do it.  I've been practicing and thinking about it all night.  I've
got a feeling if I don't do something to show her I love her I'm going to
lose her.  I've already seen her turning her blue eyes on Billy Joe
Cunningham.  Waiting, I feel deep into my jeans and finger the old timey
John Clare poem I have copied for her.  My plan is to hold her left hand
with my right after we sit down then ease the poem out with my left and
whisper it to her in her left ear.  I panic.  The poem is in my right hand
pocket.  I slip it out and slide it in the left but before I do I read it
out loud to make sure I know it.  It's only one stanza of the whole poem
but it says exactly what I want to:

Are flowers the winter's choice?
Is love's bed always snow?
She seemed to hear my silent voice,
Not love's appeals to know.
I never saw so sweet a face
As that I stood before.
My heart has left its dwelling-place
And can return no more.

She appears like a deer in the whispering snow.   So close I feel her warm
breath, her impressive blue eyes moving over my face flitting, flashing,
feeling. I freeze.  Like the blue Spring Azure, suddenly, ephemerally it's
over and she's gone.  Inside I sit across the aisle and pretend.   As
Elvis sings Love Me Tender over the pa I force myself to look at them.
She glances at me.  As I catch her eyes my heart falls like a broken
elevator and slams into the bottom of my right boot. Her left hand  is in
Billy Joe's right.

"Damn, Brander Wayne, " Jo Dough growls, "git back in the world.  I ast
you a simple question."

"Yeah, Jo Dough, I believe that you never forget your first love."

"I mean after five wives you'd think I'd get it right," he says. "I don't
and I keep thinking about a gal I grew up with down near San Angelo.  I
heard tell she's having the same luck I'm having.  Too many marriages."
He sights over his shot glass again.  "You reckon, cowboy?" he says after
a long stare down.

"I reckon, cowboy."

Jo Dough kicks back from the table, stands up.

"Love you, cowboy," he says, poking out his huge right hand.

"Love you, too, cowboy," I say  standing and taking the shake.  We bump
shoulders and he's gone.  San Angelo I suppose, if he can get there.

I take out my cell and spin it for a while on the table.  I know the
number and I'd know the voice.  I punch a number.  The jangling shoots
across the US.

"Hello."

"Hello.  Mary Joyce?  This is Brander Wayne."


The End

Calling Me Home

Calling Me Home
Author: Julie Kibler
Hardcover: 336 pages
Publisher: St. Martin's Press (February 12, 2013)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1250014522
ISBN-13: 978-1250014528

Book Description:
Sixteen-year-old Isabelle McAllister longs to escape the confines of her northern Kentucky hometown, but after her family's housekeeper's son rescues her from a Newport drunk, the boundaries seem smaller than ever. 

Falling for a black boy in late 1930s Kentucky isn't just illegal, it's dangerous. Signs at the city limits warn Negroes, “Don’t let the sun set on you here.” Despite repeated warnings, Isabelle and Robert disregard the racial divide, starting a chain of events that threatens jobs, lives, and generations to come.

Decades later, black hairstylist Dorrie Curtis agrees to drive her elderly white client cross-country to a funeral. Over the years, Miss Isabelle has become more than just a customer, but the timing couldn't be worse. First, Dorrie's seeing a man she's afraid she could fall for, but one thing is more obvious than ever: Trust is not her strong suit. Second, she knows her teenager's in big trouble; he just hasn’t told her yet. 

When a phone call from home confirms Dorrie's fears, Miss Isabelle's tale of forbidden love illuminates Dorrie’s dilemma, merging the past and present in a journey with unexpected detours and a bittersweet destination.

Idgie Says:

This is a heartwrenching story of love, loss, misunderstandings and straight out lies that combine to form a young girl's entire life.  I want to be careful to not to give away any great secrets that pop out during the telling of the story, surprising and causing sorrow to the reader.  As you saw from the description, it's also a story of strong racial prejudice and outright hatred. 

Dorrie and Isabelle take a road trip of a 1,000 miles or so.  Along the way the story of Isabelle's young life and the choices that she made come out into the open.  Dorrie, who has been struggling with her own issues, comes to realize that perhaps hers aren't quite as horrible as she first thought, when compared to what others have dealt with.

At the end of the book, when so many hidden secrets and lies come pouring out, it makes one realize how a cover should never be the judgement of a book and also, perhaps things should just be let to fall as they will, without everyone trying to do their best to "guide things in the proper way."

This is a debut novel and I have to say that I am impressed and definitely recommend it!

Living Arrangements, One-Act Comedy by Laura Pedersen

New York!

New York:

Laura Pedersen’s new one-act comedy, Living Arrangements, is being performed February 12th, February 16th and February 17th as part of the Midwinter Madness Short Play Festival. Laura has written several books and the Dew has enjoyed a few of them.  If this play is as humorous and insightful as her books are it could be a lot fun! 

In Living Arrangements we meet Charlie and Lois, a couple who have to get creative when their apartment lease conflicts with their marriage contract.

Additional information about Living Arrangements and Laura Pedersen can be found at:

http://livingarrangementstheplay.weebly.com
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Living-Arrangements/589432137740375?fref=ts 
http://www.laurapedersenbooks.com

Living Arrangements performance location/times:

Roy Arias Theatres
300 West 43rd Street, 4th Floor
New York City, NY 10036

Tuesday, February 12th at 6pm ET
Saturday, February 16th at 6pm ET
Sunday, February 17th at 4:15pm ET

Running time: 30 minutes

Ticket information: http://www.smarttix.com/show.aspx?showcode=LIV153

Laura Pedersen, who lives in Manhattan, was a columnist for The New York Times and is the author of several best-selling books including Beginner’s Luck, Buffalo Gal, Planes, Trains, and Auto-Rickshaws and, most recently, her first children's picture book, Unplugged. Her previous plays include The Brightness of Heaven (performed at Manhattan Repertory Theatre's Fall Play Festival 2012) and A Dozen Perfect Moments (performed at the 2012 Midtown International Theatre Festival). In 1994 President Clinton honored Pedersen as one of Ten Outstanding Young Americans. Pedersen has appeared on shows/networks such as CNN, Oprah, Good Morning America, The Today Show, Primetime and David Letterman.

Creating Room to Read

Creating Room to Read
A Story of Hope in the Battle for Global Literacy
Author: John Wood
Hardcover: 320 pages
Publisher: Viking Adult (February 7, 2013)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0670025984
ISBN-13: 978-0670025985

Book Description:
The inspirational story of a former Microsoft's executive's quest to build libraries and spread literacy around the world.

What’s happened since John Wood left Microsoft to change the world? Just ask six million kids in the poorest regions of Asia and Africa. In 1999, at the age of thirty-five, Wood quit a lucrative career to found the nonprofit Room to Read. Described by the San Francisco Chronicle as “the Andrew Carnegie of the developing world,” he strived to bring the lessons of the corporate world to the nonprofit sector—and succeeded spectacularly.

At its heart, Creating Room to Read shares moving stories of the people Room to Read works to help: impoverished children whose schools and villages have been swept away by war or natural disaster and girls whose educations would otherwise be ignored.

People at the highest levels of finance, government, and philanthropy will embrace the opportunity to learn Wood’s inspiring business model and blueprint for doing good. And general readers will love Creating Room to Read for its spellbinding story of one man’s mission to put books within every child’s reach.



Learn  more about the Room to Read Organization HERE.

Idgie Says:
I'm not going to do an actual book review on this - this is more of an opportunity to tell you about a wonderful program and the book that will not only tell you all about it and what it's done, but also serve as an inspiration to us all.  Perhaps even inspire us to help in some small way in our own country, where there are also many, many children without the means to easily read books.........or even have the ability to do so.

John will be speaking at the Carter Library in Atlanta on Thursday, February 14^th.  

Thanks to Room to Read, 7.5 million children in Asia and Africa have now had the benefit of books and schools.

Good Neighbors

Good Neighbors

By Jane-Ann Heitmueller
 

   It may be hard to remember or even believe, but there was a time when folks knew, visited with, and felt close to their neighbors. Such was the case with our dear friends, Ida and Walter Taylor, who lived next door to our family for thirty years.

  Mom’s dad and Mr. Taylor were rural letter carriers during the forties and fifties. Tales of their rambunctious antics at the post office were legendary. The two families attended church together down at First Baptist and frequently got together for meals and birthdays. Many Sunday afternoons they’d pack a picnic lunch and all drive down to the Old Swinging Bridge just outside of town. Summer evenings would bring forth the hand cranked ice cream freezer or juicy, ripe watermelons and fresh lemonade.  The five Taylor and Knight kids were all around the same age and enjoyed spending time with each other. They were a joyous, boisterous clan, almost like one happy family.

  Unlike today, in 1950’s the property where Mom and Dad built their home was considered “way out in the country”; nestled ‘midst the towering pines, verdant hillsides and wide, grassy fields. No draping electric lines marred the landscape. No paved roads etched black ribbons into the topography.  No gaudy signs, hydrants or phone poles blocked the view. The only residence in sight was the Taylor home next door. The lure of such open, serene space and privacy was strong, so you can understand how shocked my parents were to learn, on the day our basement was being dug, that a large sawmill was to be constructed across the dirt road from our new home. We could only imagine the 24 hour activity of the rumbling log trucks, screeching and grinding saws, billows of red dust and suffocating black smoke that would ensue on that dirt lot right outside our front door!  Needless to say, my folks were heartbroken by this surprising news.

  “Mrs. Taylor,” Mom inquired. “Why didn’t you tell us about this before we started building?” A bit sheepishly, Mrs. Taylor ducked her head and answered, “We knew about it Ruth, but thought you wouldn’t build here if you knew about the mill and we really wanted you to be our neighbors.” 

  Dad, who was the least volatile and more optimistic of my parents, tried to be reasonable and calm Mom down by saying, “Honey, those sawmill folks will be good neighbors. At least they won’t always be on our doorstep borrowing a cup of sugar.” And so construction on both projects progressed, with no permanent harsh feelings toward Ida and Walter for their slightly selfish deception.   

       Ida was a dainty, very neat and diminutive white haired lady who seemed to drift easily through life.  She quietly went about her daily business, neither creating nor encountering  ripples in her  routine. She always wore black, little granny lace up shoes and a pair of white stockings that were held in place by an elastic band rolled securely at the top of her calf.  When her hair began thinning on top, Mrs. Taylor made arrangements with her hairdresser to order a small wiglet she pinned on each morning to conceal the bald spot.  Only a few of us knew Ida’s little secret. I never once saw that woman with a speck of dirt or dust on her freshly starched house dress and apron, nor did I ever spy her doing anything of a laborious nature. Ida Taylor epitomized the term “southern belle”.

 Walter, a talkative, friendly fellow took care of the yard and house and treated his wife like a queen; fulfilling her every desire. He chauffeured her to the beauty parlor each Saturday morning, as well as to her Wednesday afternoon WMU (Women’s Missionary Union) gathering at church, and made his weekly trip to the local A&P with Ida’s carefully detailed grocery list in hand.  She never learned, nor had the need to drive a car with Walter around to do her bidding.

   Although Mrs. Taylor did the weekly laundry, Walter was the one that hung it on the clothesline and brought the dried clothes inside. I have watched her stand over an ironing board,  slowly and meticulously starching and ironing her dresses, table cloths, pillowcases and Mr. Taylor’s dress shirts and handkerchiefs. The arduous task seemed to take an eternity to complete. She folded, smoothed, pressed and stacked each item with great care and precision.

   Ida was a wonderful baker. The apples in her homemade pies were cut paper thin and every crust was rolled and cooked to perfection. Many lazy summer afternoons I’d amble up to rap on her back door, secretly wishing to be invited inside and treated to one of her mouthwatering desserts. For my own selfish reasons, I always hoped that Mr. Taylor would join us at the old, red formica  kitchen  table. When she served me a piece of  delicious pound cake, it was as thinly sliced as her apples, almost transparent.  Giving me a slight wink Mr. Taylor would say, “Ida, cut that girl a real piece of cake! That’s nothing but a flimsy Kleenex you’ve given her to eat, and don’t forget a big scoop of vanilla ice cream on top.” I could always count on my buddy to help me out in such situations.

  After supper, in the cool of the evening, Mr. Taylor and I often settled down to chat on their back steps, accompanied by their fluffy, white, bobtailed shepherd, Bouncy.  Bouncy was a sweet dog who didn’t know if he belonged to the Taylor family or our family because we all loved and showered affection on the jolly mutt.  He liked nothing better than to leisurely wallow and slosh around in the cool, bubbling creek that meandered through our back yard.        

 I’ll never forget the sizzling August afternoon a sudden storm appeared out of nowhere, while Bouncy was enjoying himself frolicking in the creek. An unexpected and extremely loud clap of thunder sent poor, frightened Bouncy racing in terror for the safety of home. Leaving it tattered and splintered, the yelping dog bolted straight through the Taylor’s back screen door, tracking his muddy paw prints over Ida’s glistening kitchen floor and  smeared on  her pristine, white  living room carpet. Knocking over everything in his path and leaving a trail of destruction in his wake, Bouncy dove headlong under Mrs. Taylor’s bed, spreading mud, leaves, and muck across the pink rug and frilly, floral organza bedspread.  Poor Mrs. Taylor was dumbstruck and never said a word.  Meanwhile, her very concerned husband gently leaned under the bed to comfort and retrieve his terrified dog cowering beneath. Mr. Taylor later spent the entire afternoon repairing Bouncy’s extensive damage to their house, as well as his frightened dog’s wounded spirit. 

 Only three times, well, make that  four if you count the sawmill incident, did I sense any notion that Mrs. Taylor was not as perfect as her ironing, baking, personal grooming and housekeeping habits. After all, we’re all human, but looking back I am amused and surprised by her unexpected actions and comments. My parents owned and operated a new and used furniture store in town and, like the cobbler, whose children needed shoes, we usually made do with second hand furniture rather than new. A close friend laughingly reported to us that Mrs. Taylor once told her that she was surprised we didn’t have nicer furniture in our home since we were in the furniture business. Another incident that truly surprised me was her statement about an adopted child. She said, “I know they don’t love that child as much as their others because she is not their real blood.” On a personal note I have to giggle when recalling the numerous times my future husband and I were returning from a date and could see Mrs. Taylor spying on us as she peeked through her  bathroom blinds watching us kiss good night. When feeling especially devilish we would both turn, smile, and wave happily in her direction.

 The Taylor’s grand daughter, Lucinda, was close to my age, and we soon became fast friends.   We joyfully roamed the woods and streams in our happy little childhood world, played cowboys and Indians with Bouncy atop the huge stacks of logs piled in the sawmill lot, and spent hours and hours with our imaginary friends in the quaint little  playhouse her daddy built snuggled in the woods behind the Taylor home.   

   

  Every summer Lucinda attended a girls’ camp in Tennessee. One beautiful Sunday afternoon Mr. and Mrs. Taylor invited me to take the trip with them to visit her for the day. Mrs. Taylor packed a picnic lunch and the three of us happily hit the road for a wonderful adventure and reunion with Lucinda.  Although I was not yet old enough to drive, the entire time we were riding I had the strangest sensation that there was a problem with Mr. Taylor’s car motor. It just didn’t sound right to me. I never said a word to the Taylors, but mentioned it to Mom and Dad late that evening when we returned from our excursion. Sure enough, several months later I discovered that there had indeed been a problem. We had driven the entire distance to visit Lucinda in second gear!

  As is the case in most quaint southern towns, growth and change eventually arrive in the name of progress, and over time the same was true with our own little town.  In the past fifty years, what was once expansive, wooded country land has been swallowed up and replaced with asphalt, brick high rises and malls. The city limits have been extended and the Taylor and Merrill homes on Walnut Street. are no longer situated in that original serene country setting so desired by their first occupants.  Although both homes are still standing, having outlasted their original residents, they are now surrounded by the sights and sounds so common to the present century, and remain as sturdy today as did the firm friendship that existed many decades ago between their owners… who were such good neighbors.