~ MMGM HISTORICAL FICTION CODE WORD COURAGE ~

~ MIDDLE-GRADE HISTORICAL
FICTION FEATURE ~

--  'CODE WORD COURAGE: 
A DOGS OF WORLD WAR II BOOK'  --

AUTHOR KIRBY LARSON

~Post Includes:  Book Spotlight,

Author Bio & Book Review~

 

LEARN MORE ON GOODREADS 

ABOUT THE BOOK {FROM GOODREADS}:

Billie has lived with her great-aunt ever since her mom passed away and her dad left. Billie's big brother, Leo, is about to leave, too, for the warfront. But first, she gets one more weekend with him at the ranch.

Billie's surprised when Leo brings home a fellow Marine from boot camp, Denny. She has so much to ask Leo -- about losing her best friend and trying to find their father -- but Denny, who is Navajo, or Diné, comes with something special: a gorgeous, but injured, stray dog. As Billie cares for the dog, whom they name Bear, she and Bear grow deeply attached to each other.
 
Soon enough, it's time for Leo and Denny, a Navajo Code Talker, to ship out. Billie does her part for the war effort, but she worries whether Leo and Denny will make it home, whether she'll find a new friend, and if her father will ever come back. Can Bear help Billie -- and Denny -- find what's most important?
 
A powerful tale about unsung heroism on the WWII battlefield and the home front.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR {FROM GOODREADS}:

Kirby Larson went from history-phobe to history fanatic while writing the 2007 Newbery Honor Book, HATTIE BIG SKY. Her passion for historical fiction is reflected in titles such as THE FENCES BETWEEN US, THE FRIENDSHIP DOLL, as well as the sequel to HATTIE BIG SKY, HATTIE EVER AFTER, and her two latest titles, DUKE--which was nominated for 5 state Young Reader Choice awards as well as being a finalist for the Washington State Book Award-- and DASH--which has garnered two starred reviews, a NAPPA Gold Award and a Capitol Choices nomination. She will have two new books out in 2016 -- watch for them!

In 2006, Kirby began a collaboration with her good friend Mary Nethery resulting in two award-winning nonfiction picture books: TWO BOBBIES: A TRUE STORY OF HURRICANE KATRINA, FRIENDSHIP AND SURVIVAL, and NUBS: THE TRUE STORY OF A MUTT, A MARINE AND A MIRACLE.

Kirby lives in Kenmore, Washington with her husband, Neil, and Winston the Wonder Dog. When she’s not reading or writing Kirby enjoys beach combing, bird watching, and traveling. She owns a tiara and is not afraid to use it.

MY REVIEW:

I was drawn to this book by a review I read recently. This book has three elements I always look for in middle-grade books before I begin reading them:  Historical fiction--this one is set during World War II. Animals as inspirational supporting characters--this one has a dog.  Diverse characters--this one features Navajo and Mexican characters portrayed positively and in important roles. 

The other component I look for as I am reading the book are the feelings of empathy and compassion and the maturing of a character through lessons learned. These elements can only be garnered by a skilled author. 

This book possesses all of these traits. 

What sets this story apart from others is Kirby Larson's awesome writing style. She seems to flawlessly place the right words on the page at just the right tempo and in just the right order. Her setting and characters are well-developed. Her novel is obviously well-researched from my reading of non-fiction about this time period.

I particularly liked the way the main character, Billie, reached beyond her lonely, mournful life to touch others through her kindness and friendship. In particular, she forges a friendship with a boy from Mexico whose father works on Billie's great-aunt's ranch. Tito is wise beyond his years, in my opinion, when it comes to his emotional intelligence regarding being bullied by the so-called popular kids in school.

Another exceptional aspect of this book is the World War II depiction of military life and the battle scenes the author so carefully researched.  Billie's close relationship with her older brother, Leo, is admirable. 

Finally, the inclusion of Denny, a Navajo friend of Leo's, and the abandoned dog he brought home to Billie's house enrich the plot ten-fold. The tribute to the 'Navajo Code Talker' program in WWII and the courageous men who participated in this ground-breaking mission was intriguing.

I believe this is a story that should not be missed by middle-grade readers. It would also make a worthwhile read-aloud in class or during a family's reading time. So many great life lessons are taught in its pages.

Highly recommended to middle-grade readers, fans of historical and military fiction, fans of animal-centered fiction, and fans of literature which includes diverse populations as strong characters.
----------------------
I borrowed this book from the 'New Book' shelf in the Children's Section of the local public library.

POST SCRIPT:  I did not realize until I read the Goodreads page for this book, there are three preceeding books in the 'Dogs of World War II' series by this author. Here's a link to the page listing all four installments with links to their book blurbs. I will definitely be reading the other three titles as soon as I can get my hands on them!

LINK TO 'DOGS OF WORLD WAR II' SERIES ON GOODREADS

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COMING UP SOON ON 'READING, WRITING & STITCH-METIC':
-- Tuesday, July 17th: Blog Tour Stop for 'Building a Life'. Post includes a book spotlight, author bio, excerpt, and ten behind-the-scenes facts shared by the author. Tour organized by Singing Librarian Books.

-- Wednesday, July 18th: Blog Tour Stop for 'The Last Summer'. Post includes a book spotlight, author bio, excerpt, and ten behind-the-scenes facts shared by the author. Tour organized by Singing Librarian Books. 

--  Thursday, July 19th:  Tour Stop for Author April Smith's inspirational YA debut novel, 'Loving Grace'. Post includes a list of little-known facts about the book written especially for 'Reading, Writing & Stitch-Metic' by the author and a giveaway. Tour organized by JustRead Publicity. 

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~ BLOG TOUR 'HOPE OF AZURE SPRINGS' ~

~ FRIDAY FICTION FEATURE ~

--  'THE HOPE OF AZURE SPRINGS'  --

AUTHOR RACHEL FORDHAM

~Post Includes:  Book Spotlight, Author Bio,

Excerpt & Giveaway~

 

ABOUT THE BOOK:

Title: The Hope of Azure Springs
Author: Rachel Fordham

Publisher: Revell

Release Date: July 3, 2018

Genre: Historical Romance 

Alone in a strange town, can she find healing for her new home . . . and herself?

Ada, Mich.—Between 1854 and 1929, the orphan train movement relocated over 200,000 orphaned, abandoned, or homeless children from the eastern United States to rural areas throughout the country, focusing primarily in the Midwest. Since that time, this movement has captured the attention and curiosity of readers. In The Hope of Azure Springs, debut author Rachel Fordham masterfully blends history and romance in her well-crafted tale of a former “train rider.”

Seven years ago, orphaned and alone, Em arrived at a new home in Iowa after riding the orphan train. But secrets from her past haunt her, and her new life in the western wilderness is a rough one. When her guardian is shot and killed, Em, now nineteen, finally has the chance to search for her long-lost sister, but she won’t be able to do it alone.

Sheriff Caleb Reynolds is determined to solve the case and secure justice for Em. But what he doesn’t expect is the hold this strange young woman will have on his heart.

Historical romance readers will be charmed by the town of Azure Springs as they journey with Em to face her past, embrace her future, and rescue what she’s lost.

Debut Author Deftly Combines Orphan Train Tale with Sweet Prairie Romance

EXCERPT:

“I know you’ll take care of us all.” She squeezed his arm a little tighter.

Olivia stepped out of the shop just as they approached. Olivia Bingham was eighteen, a year younger than Eliza. She was dark haired and fair skinned. The two were often together. Everywhere they went the pair drew attention. More men talked about these two than any other females in the county.

“So nice to see you, Sheriff,” Olivia said when they approached. “About time you took Eliza for a stroll. I was beginning to think you’d never ask her. Don’t stop on my account. I can turn right around and buy more lace. The shipment today is better than any other. I plan to have a new frock made just so I can trim it with ivory lace.”

Caleb dragged his foot around in the dry dirt. “A stroll would be pleasant. To be honest, it sounds much more appealing than the day I have waiting for me. I can’t stay though. I have to see James over at the land office. But I’ll look forward to seeing your new frock. I’ll let you two go and pick out lace.” Caleb reluctantly unwound Eliza’s arm from his own, then turned and stepped away. “Good day, ladies.”

Smiling back at the pair of them, he forced his legs into motion and headed south. A few steps later he allowed himself one more backward glance. The women had linked arms and were whispering together, smiles lighting their faces, both carefree and radiant. Spending the afternoon with them would have been enjoyable. But he had a job to fulfill, and now was as good a time as any. Being a sheriff was an honor and a responsibility he took seriously. Still, there were days he wanted to walk away from the demands. Lead the quiet life he’d once dreamed of.

Caleb put all thoughts of Eliza from his mind as he walked to the land office. Once there, he pushed open the heavy wooden door and looked around for James. Cigar smoke filled the air, mixing with the smell of musty paper, the same smell that always greeted Caleb when he stopped by. At the sound of the door, James stood, put his half-smoked cigar down, and walked over.

“Sheriff Reynolds, what brings you here?” James’s voice was big and hoarse, as always, and he sounded as if he had something trapped in his throat. “Can I get you something?”

“I need you to help me dig up a claim. I want to see who owns a stretch of land.” Caleb fumbled through papers in the top drawer of an old desk. He pulled out several maps before finding the one he was looking for.

“Hollow Creek area?” James asked after giving the map only a glance.

Caleb nodded but didn’t look up. At last he pointed to the section he was sure was George’s land. “This bit here. I don’t know how big the claim is, but this is it. Can you tell me who owns it?”

“It’ll take me some time. I don’t recall anyone buying up any land there for years, but I can find out for you. I’ve got the records around here somewhere. When do you need them by?” James was already shuffling through papers, his head bent low, eyes racing across faded lines of scrawled hand­writing.

Caleb wondered how he knew where anything was. There seemed to be no system, no organization. “The quicker the better. I’m going to ride out there as soon as I can. I’d go today if I could, but it’s too late. Tomorrow I have to take the Strafford boy in to the county judge. There and back will take me the whole day. I’d have someone else take him, but there’s no one.”

Caleb scratched at his collar. “I’ll probably head out the next day before dawn. Do you think you could have it for me by then?” He knew James would find it by then, probably much sooner. Whenever he asked a favor of him, he managed to find a way to help.

“I’ll have it before you head out. Come by tomorrow when you get back in town.” James bent over and fought the frog that seemed to live in his throat. When it was finally suppressed, he asked, “Is this about that girl? The one they brought in half dead a couple days back?”

“Yeah. Not sure what the story is yet, but it might end up being a big one.” Caleb walked back toward the door.

“Thank you, James. I’ll come by tomorrow evening and see what you’ve found.”

Caleb opened the door and stepped outside, away from the stench of the stale cigar smoke. He felt grateful for his position and his shiny star. People were eager to help, and depending on how the next couple of days went, he might need that help. Already his gut was telling him this was no usual crime.

TO PURCHASE A COPY*

Goodreads | Amazon | iTunes | CBD | Book Depository | BAM!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Credit: Kylee Ann Maughan

Rachel Fordham started writing when her children began begging her for stories at night. She'd pull a book from the shelf, but they'd insist she make one up. Finally she put her love of good stories with her love of writing and she hasn't stopped since. She lives with her husband and children on an island in the state of Washington.

CONNECT WITH RACHEL:  website,  facebook,  goodreads 

GIVEAWAY: The publisher has graciously offered (3) winners each a copy of The Hope of Azure Springs and special Revell swag!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Giveaway will begin at midnight July 9, 2018 and last through 11:59 PM EST on July 17, 2018. Winners will be notified within a week of close of the giveaway and given 48 hours to respond or risk forfeiture of prize.  Complete prize open to US mailing addresses only.  For our giveaway rules and policy, click HERE. Be sure to stop at a stop each day for extra entries!

TOUR SCHEDULE:

For the full tour schedule, click on either of the launch pages below.

(All stops expected to post by 11:00 AM EST)

Launch Page @JustReadTours

Launch Page @JustCommonly

*NOTE: This post contains affiliate links.
                  
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COMING UP SOON ON 'READING, WRITING & STITCH-METIC':
-- Monday, July 16th: Marvelous Middle-Grade Monday historical fiction feature on a new novel by award-winning author, Kirby Larson, entitled, 'Code Word: Courage'. This book is set during World War II and features some unique characters and fine writing.

-- Tuesday, July 17th: Blog Tour Stop for 'Building a Life'. Post includes a book spotlight, author bio, excerpt, and ten behind-the-scenes facts shared by the author. Tour organized by Singing Librarian Books.

-- Wednesday, July 18th: Blog Tour Stop for 'The Last Summer'. Post includes a book spotlight, author bio, excerpt, and ten behind-the-scenes facts shared by the author. Tour organized by Singing Librarian Books.                               

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~ INTO THE WOODS EXCERPTS & GIVEAWAYS ~

~ 'INTO THE WOODS' ~

-- A UNIQUE COLLECTION OF
STORIES, POEMS, ESSAYS & MORE --
{100% of the Proceeds Benefit
The Children's Heart Foundation}
~Post Includes:  Book Blurb, Excerpts,
Two International Giveaways Sponsored by the Authors~ 
 

Into the Woods is the title and theme for this assortment of short stories, poems, essays, music, and one walking meditation. Each piece is unique in tone and genre and the result is that the collection captures the fascinating, frightening, fun, healing, and fantastical wonder of time spent in the woods. The twenty-six contributors who attend Mindful Writers Retreats in the mountains of Ligonier, Pennsylvania, are donating one hundred percent of the proceeds to support the research and work of The Children’s Heart Foundation.

Available at....

Amazon.com   Amazon.co.uk   Barnes and Noble   Kobo   iBooks   Paperback

Book Excerpts

Short Story

TRAIN WRECK

by Kathleen Shoop

Ellie Trumbull squinted out the window of the Uber, gripping the door handle. The car swerved and bounced up the long driveway leading to the retreat center where the courts had sent Ellie for punishment. She grabbed her stomach to stave off nausea, but when it began to launch itself she smacked the driver’s arm. He slowed and stopped. Ellie pulled the handle, and tumbled out of the door onto all fours, heaving.

She gasped for breath, dizzied. Voices sounded as she struggled to stand. She focused on the group heading toward her: two women, a man, and several children who simply bolted past her, their squealing laughter filling the air.

A graceful woman with gray, bunned hair and dark skin approached. She took Ellie’s arm and pulled her close, leading her into a building. “Welcome. I’m Vera.”

“I’m Alice.” A stout woman with platinum spiked hair followed along.

A lanky man with hair so perfect it looked plastic picked up Ellie’s duffel bag. “I’m Brandon. Your husband’ll send the rest of your luggage shortly.”

Ellie grunted. They led her upstairs. Brandon rushed ahead to open a door. Ellie shuffled inside.

“Your room,” he said. “I’ll set your bag here.”

Ellie looked over her shoulder to see him smiling, as he’d been doing since she arrived. “Thanks, Guy Smiley.”

“What?”

She ignored his question, held onto one of the top bunks and surveyed the space. Three large windows at the end of the room and three sets of bunks with plastic mattresses belted the perimeter.

Ellie collapsed onto a bed.

“Plastic makes it easy to clean,” Vera said.

“Shut those.” Ellie shook her hand at the windows.

The woman sighed, closed the curtains and lowered the blind that covered the center pane. She lifted Ellie’s feet off the floor and swung them onto the bed. “Housekeeping’ll make up the bed in a little bit.”

“Fine,” Ellie groaned.

Vera loosened Ellie’s shoelaces.

Ellie snatched her feet away. “I’m fine.”

Vera backed away, her large hands flailing for a moment before she tucked them against her belly. “Our healing circle begins in an hour.”

Ellie turned away and balled up. Leave me alone.

And a few seconds later the door clicked shut.

***

Giggling children and the sound of feet running down the hallway outside Room 2 woke Ellie. Her mouth was desert dry, so she headed downstairs to the great room where she saw a kitchen area. With the kids gone, the silence felt good.

Ellie startled at the sight of Alice, Vera, and Guy Smiley sitting around an island. Guy Smiley poured coffee. Healing circle.

“Ellie,” he said. “Welcome.”

Vera sliced banana bread. The scent threatened Ellie’s stoic facade. A smile tugged her lips, but she tucked away the fleeting happy sensation, hid it where it wouldn’t remind her how Maggie’s face would light up when she bit into her favorite treat.

Alice clomped her feet onto the coffee table. Vera batted them away and pushed the banana bread toward Ellie.

She looked away.

“I’ll take hers,” said Alice.

“I’d like to begin,” Vera said, her voice gentle and melodic. “The healing circle guides us into continued acceptance and strengthens our endurance as we grow through the pain that comes with losing a child. Each of us understands the daily shock of waking and realizing our lives will never be the same. So how do we go on?”

Guy Smiley sipped coffee. “Feels good to be with everyone.”

“Each time we meet I do better back home,” Vera said.

“Same,” Alice said.

“We hope you’ll find our group helpful, Ellie,” Vera said.

When Ellie didn’t respond the others went around describing how they lost their child. Ellie blocked out every word, rubbing her temples. Her own pain was enough. She wasn’t about to invite theirs inside. Her gaze strayed to the kids outside, the game of tag that left them breathless, rolling down the hill and out of sight. How lucky they were.

“Ellie?” Alice asked. Ellie turned her gaze back to see Alice glaring.

“It’ll help,” sweet Vera said. “To share.”

Guy Smiley slid forward in his seat, fingers steepled. “Change brings…blah, blah … comfort, healing…” He droned on and on and finally Ellie’s mind snapped back to what he first said.

“Change?” Ellie said.

He nodded. They all did.

Ellie’s anger surged. She wiped spittle from her lip. “I don’twantchange. I feel Maggie more now than I ever did… before she died I couldn’t wait to get to work, or girls’ night out or go away with my husband. My daughter… difficult from the day she was born… is dead. I’ll never sit with you people thinking about change and eating stinking banana bread.”

She stood and stomped away.

“She don’t want help,” Alice said.

“But her husband…” Brandon said.

Ellie got farther away, unable to hear what they said. Her husband? He was finished with her. She jogged to her room and crashed onto the mattress that housekeeping hadn’t yet returned to make. She covered her face and held back tears. With balled fists she tried to resist.

But she couldn’t.

Up off the bed, Ellie dug through her duffel and found it. Vodka. Cap unscrewed, she gulped, washing away the scent of banana bread, the thought that she’d never again see Maggie’s smile when she took a bite of it.

***

Short Story

EIRA

by Wende Dikec

The lights went out, and Eira held her breath, waiting for the emergency generator to work. It started with a shudder and a horrific crunching noise, but at least it continued to function.

She closed her eyes, feeling the fear in her chest ease when she heard the comforting sound of the humming engine. She couldn’t bear the thought of being left cold and alone in the dark.

Tugging her pale, blond hair into a ponytail, she pulled her ragged wool cardigan tightly across her body and walked over to the window of Alexander House, a grand name for such a Spartan hunting cabin, to peek outside. She waited for the sun to come up, looking out the dirty glass pane, and continued to stare out the window long after the sun rose in the sky. She didn’t know why she bothered. She saw nothing outside except the same white expanse she’d seen every day for the last five lonely months.

Eira opened the door to grab some wood from the pile for her fire, her body flinching from the chill of the icy wind. She had enough wood to last a few more weeks, and then she’d have to make the dangerous trip into the forest to chop more. She dreaded it, but not as much as she dreaded living without the generator. If she rationed carefully, she’d have enough fuel for another month, but she wasn’t sure what she’d do after that. She hadn’t planned on being stranded for such a long time. Spring should have arrived almost two months ago.

She blinked in surprise when she saw a figure moving toward her house, struggling in the waist deep snow. Eira squinted against the harsh sunlight reflecting off the white landscape, trying to make out if the approaching form was human or animal, friend or foe, but she could see very little at this distance. She stumbled back into her warm little house, and reached for her heavy coat. She quickly slipped on her snowshoes before grabbing her gun, a nervous sense of excitement building inside her. If it was a person, it would be the first human being she’d seen in months. If it was an animal, she’d shoot it and have food for a week. And if it was one of the strange ones, the creatures that were no longer human yet not completely animal, she’d kill it without remorse and leave its carcass for the hungry bears to find.

She waited on her front porch, her gun ready as it came closer. It looked human, bundled under layers of heavy clothing, but she wasn’t taking any chances.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice echoing in the quiet wilderness.

The figure stopped moving and looked directly at her. She could see a dark beard covering the skin exposed beneath protective ski goggles. It was a man.

“My name is Ben,” he said, his voice sounding scratchy and strange, as if it hadn’t been used in a long time. “I saw the smoke from your fire. Can I come in and warm up?”

Eira paused, considering his request. He seemed human enough, but it was a risk. He could steal her food, hurt her, or take her precious fuel. She weighed her options quickly. Loneliness won out over caution, but she wasn’t stupid. She clenched her gun as she waved him in.

***

Poem

FOREST BATHING

by Martha Swiss

I am alone in this place that is alive, anticipating the gift before me.

I open it slowly, with grateful breath, footsteps and heartbeats,

then thankfully sink into the purifying molecules of chlorophyll and humus.

I bask, now able to sense the purpose of ferns, snakeroot, noble trees and the creek that tumbles past my feet.

Crayfish pay me no mind in their muddy caverns.

Trees skyrocket overhead, on a mission.

Chipmunks skitter through leaf litter

and a kingfisher pounds its teal wings heading upstream.

I am dwarfed by the hillside vaulting from the floodplain. Boulders and saplings cling to its spine.

I am free to bathe here in clarified cells of cambium, xylem and phloem.

I wring my sponge in the generosity of flora.

The stream’s effervescence cleanses the tangled energy seeping from my pores.

I celebrate my fresh spirit with a confetti of scarlet, orange and yellow leaves that bob on the breast of the creek

as silently,

the trees disrobe.

***

Short Story

LIGHT OF THE MOON
by Ramona DeFelice Long

After three weeks in jail, Mama asked me to talk to Judge Rousseau about getting her some decent food to eat.

“Mon Dieu,I am wasting away,” Mama said from her cell. Behind her, the narrow cot was covered with a quilt from home, and on top of the wooden crate she used as a table was a kerosene lamp on a doily. She’d left a half played game of solitaire spread over the doily. Where she got playing cards, I didn’t know. The Bible that had been on the pillow was nowhere to be seen.

She showed me her bowl of half-eaten stew. I think it was stew. “That old cow Lorraine Badeaux is poisoning me.”

“Hush, Mama,” I said. “Mrs. Badeaux is doing no such thing.”

Mama pressed her face between the bars. Her eyebrows and cheeks lifted up. That, plus the pounds she’d lost eating jail food and all the naps she took out of boredom, made her look as young as me. Trust Mama to turn getting arrested into getting prettier.

“Geneva,cher, just go ask him,” Mama wheedled. “That sheriff can hardly look at this slop. He passes me my plate and runs away. Or maybe he believes I’ll bewitch him, too.”

I begged her not to joke about that.

She narrowed her eyes at me. “And pour l’amour de Dieu, when you go see the judge, don’t wear what you got on. You look like a blind nun dressed you.”

“Mama—”

“Your hair’s all right, but get you some lipstick and rouge and use it. Judge Rousseau is old, but he ain’t dead.”

No, he wasn’t, but his brother-in-law was, and that’s why Mama’s bail was set high as the moon. But explaining that to her was like talking to a tree stump.

I said I had to leave. I was Mama’s only visitor, and she was bitter. Where was our family? Where were her friends? She was lonely and felt forsaken. I never told her that, at home, nobody came to visit me either, and I had not even murdered anybody.

Most days she begged me to stay, but tonight she told me to get on home. I suppose she thought I had a busy evening ahead tarting myself up before going to see the judge.

***

When the young deputy was on duty, he sat in a chair five feet away from Mama’s cell, as if he thought I’d help my mother escape by slipping a bolt cutter under my dress—a dress fit for a convent, indeed, because my teacher contract said I had to “act and keep my person modestly.” I worried every day I’d be fired over Mama’s scandal.

Sheriff Reyes usually sat in his office up front and read the newspaper. When my visiting time was over, he always asked, “Things all right, Miss Geneva?”

I answered, “Yes, Sheriff, thank you,” except for the time or two when Mama asked for a warmer shawl or the quilt off her bed.

Once, horrifyingly, I had to say I needed to come right back; when he frowned, I whispered that Mama needed some womanly things. He let me into her cell with a paper sack that he did not inspect. Had I been wily, I could have slipped her anything—a pistol, liquor, tonic from Madame Velda—but wily was Mama’s way, not mine. The sheriff trusted me. If you can’t trust a twenty-year-old spinster schoolteacher who dresses as modestly as a nun, you have faith in no one.

Tonight, Sheriff Reyes stood at the window. The kerosene lamp on his desk lit him up from behind: tall, broad-shouldered, brown hair cut short but still wavy. On one of those shoulders was the scar from a shell that blew him out of the sniper’s nest he’d sat in for three days, picking off Germans but never giving away his position. I’d read that in the Bossier City newspaper, when he’d come home a hero after the war ended.

He turned around and said, “Your mother’s right. Mrs. Badeaux can’t cook.”

I didn’t speak; he was also very handsome.

***

Mindful Writers Retreat Authors 

Many of the writers who contributed to the anthology. 

The retreats happen at Ligonier camp and conference center in Ligonier, PA. Tenth retreat is coming up this fall!

Twenty-six Mindful Writers Retreat Authors contributed to Into the Woods. The group consists of bestsellers, award-winners, first-time authors, seasoned veterans, poets, memoirists, essayists, musicians, journalists, novelists, and short story writers who are traditionally, self and hybrid published. At Mindful Writers Retreats the labels don’t create a hierarchy, but instead reveal the richness of those who attend. Every single writer contributes to the magic and the fun that results from meditation, walking in the woods, and hour upon hour of mindful writing.

Authors in alphabetical order:

Lorraine Bonzelet

Wende Dikec

Teresa Futrick

Selah Gray

Hilary Hauck

Michele Zirkle

Eileen Enwright Hodgetts

Larry Ivkovich

Lori M. Jones

Kimberly Kurth-Gray

Laura Lovic-Lindsay

Ramona DeFelice Long

MaryAlice Meli

Gail Oare Sher Pensiero

Kim Pierson

Cara Reinard

James Robinson, Jr.

Larry Schardt

Linda K. Schmitmeyer

Carol Schoenig

Kathleen Shoop

Martha Swiss

Amy Walter

Madhu Bazaz Wangu

Denise Weaver

Many of the writers who contributed to the anthology. 

The retreats happen at Ligonier camp and conference center in Ligonier, PA. Tenth retreat is coming up this fall!

Find the Mindful Writers Retreat Series on Facebook HERE

NOW FOR THE AUTHOR'S GIVEAWAY

1st Prize 
$50 Amazon GC and a copy of into the woods 
2nd Prize 
$25 Amazon GC and a copy of into the woods
Open Worldwide

Ending on Sunday 5th August at 11.59pm EST

Enter Below and Good Luck !!
a Rafflecopter giveaway

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