1914, England. Will her decision unite her family or tear them apart?
Surrounded by beautiful gardens in the glorious Sussex countryside, Summerhayes House seems like a true hidden paradise, but behind its polished floors and perfect green lawns is a family divided. The Summer family’s beloved home is under threat, and nineteen-year-old Elizabeth Summer finds herself caught in the heart of the crisis.
Elizabeth’s father believes his daughter marrying well will save Summerhayes. But Elizabeth is distraught at the stifling future ahead of her. A chance meeting with green-eyed Aiden Kellaway, the handsome architect’s apprentice working on the estate’s prized gardens, changes everything. For the first time, Elizabeth pictures an entirely different life, and – despite her father’s wishes – she is determined to take hold of it.
But war is brewing in Europe, and when its long shadow touches Summerhayes, Elizabeth realises her rebellion will come at a price. Desperately torn between family loyalty, society’s expectations and the bright chance at happiness she glimpsed in Aiden’s arms, she is forced to make an impossible choice.
As Elizabeth’s future – and her family’s – hangs in the balance, she must ask herself, is the price worth paying? And can she live with the consequences?
An unforgettable, totally gripping and heart-wrenching historical family saga. Fans of Tracy Rees, Kate Morton and Elizabeth Jane Howard will be utterly swept away by The Girl from Summerhayes.
Previously published as The Buttonmaker’s Daughter.
SPOTLIGHT OF BOOK 2 IN THE SERIES:
The Secrets of Summerhayes
1944, England.A chance meeting with a soldier unravels a long-buried family mystery…
England is in the devastating grip of World War Two, and Bethany Merston’s life changes in an instant when bombs screech down over London. Heartbroken, she leaves the shattered ruins of her home behind. In the Sussex countryside, she takes a job as companion to elderly Alice Summer, mistress of the crumbling and over-grown Summerhayes House.
Its once-pristine grounds are now home to a regiment of soldiers preparing for an invasion across the channel. But Bethany’s wartime experiences mean she can find beauty in broken things, and she is captured by the estate’s magic. When she meets handsome, blue-eyed Lieutenant Jos Kerrigan in the gardens one morning, it is clear he has also been captivated by Summerhayes. As their friendship grows, Bethany realises that it’s not just the house she’s falling for…
But something is stirring beneath the surface at Summerhayes… When Bethany discovers that Alice is receiving anonymous letters that have opened up old family wounds, she is determined to find out who is responsible. Convinced that Summerhayes itself holds the key to the mystery, Bethany and Jos explore the grand house together.
The answers lie in a long-forgotten painting in the dusty attic, unravelling the mysteries of the Summer family. And as the truth about Alice’s past comes to light, it has the power to change Bethany’s future.
Will Bethany and Jos’s blossoming love survive the war, or will the secrets of Summerhayes tear them apart?
A totally heartbreaking and gripping wartime family saga, fans of Tracy Rees, Kate Morton and Elizabeth Jane Howard will have their hearts stolen by The Secrets of Summerhayes.
Previously published as The Secret of Summerhayes.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Merryn taught university literature for many years, and it took a while to pluck up the courage to begin writing herself. Bringing the past to life is a passion and her historical fiction includes Regency romances, wartime sagas and timeslip novels, all of which have a mystery at their heart. As the books have grown darker, it was only a matter of time before she plunged into crime with a cozy crime series set in rural Sussex against the fascinating backdrop of the 1950s. Merryn lives in a beautiful old town in Sussex with her husband. When she’s not writing, she tries to keep fit with adult ballet classes and walking.
Top Ten Tuesday was created by The Broke and the Bookish and is now hosted by That Artsy Reader Girl. It was born of a love of lists, a love of books, and a desire to bring bookish friends together. Each week a new theme is suggested for bloggers to participate in. Create your own Top Ten list that fits that topic – putting your unique spin on it if you want. Everyone is welcome to join but please link back to The Artsy Reader Girl in your own Top Ten Tuesday post.
Theme for the Week: My Most Anticipated Books Releasing in the First Half of 2023.
This is the third book in the Hanni Winter series by Katherine Hokin. Hanni is trying to rebuild her life in Germany after growing up with a father who ran a concentration camp. He has escaped justice so far, but she wants desperately to turn him in. The first two books were wonderful. This will be released Jan 27th.
Founded by the mysterious genius known as the Designer, the archipelago of Prospera lies hidden from the horrors of a deteriorating outside world. In this island paradise, Prospera’s lucky citizens enjoy long, fulfilling lives until the monitors embedded in their forearms, meant to measure their physical health and psychological well-being, fall below 10 percent. Then they retire themselves, embarking on a ferry ride to the island known as the Nursery, where their failing bodies are renewed, their memories are wiped clean, and they are readied to restart life afresh.
Proctor Bennett, of the Department of Social Contracts, has a satisfying career as a ferryman, gently shepherding people through the retirement process—and, when necessary, enforcing it. But all is not well with Proctor. For one thing, he’s been dreaming—which is supposed to be impossible in Prospera. For another, his monitor percentage has begun to drop alarmingly fast. And then comes the day he is summoned to retire his own father, who gives him a disturbing and cryptic message before being wrestled onto the ferry.
s Paris rediscovers its joie de vivre, Tabitha Knight, recently arrived from Detroit for an extended stay with her French grandfather, is on her own journey of discovery. Paris isn’t just the City of Light; it’s the city of history, romance, stunning architecture . . . and food. Thanks to her neighbor and friend Julia Child, another ex-pat who’s fallen head over heels for Paris, Tabitha is learning how to cook for her Grandpère and Oncle Rafe.
Between tutoring Americans in French, visiting the market, and eagerly sampling the results of Julia’s studies at Le Cordon Bleu cooking school, Tabitha’s sojourn is proving thoroughly delightful. That is, until the cold December day they return to Julia’s building and learn that a body has been found in the cellar. Tabitha recognizes the victim as a woman she’d met only the night before, at a party given by Julia’s sister, Dort. The murder weapon found nearby is recognizable too—a knife from Julia’s kitchen. This will be released in April 2023.
Sallie Kincaid is the daughter of the biggest man in a small town, the charismatic Duke Kincaid. Born at the turn of the 20th century into a life of comfort and privilege, Sallie remembers little about her mother who died in a violent argument with the Duke. By the time she is just eight years old, the Duke has remarried and had a son, Eddie. While Sallie is her father’s daughter, sharp-witted and resourceful, Eddie is his mother’s son, timid and cerebral. When Sallie tries to teach young Eddie to be more like their father, her daredevil coaching leads to an accident, and Sallie is cast out.
Nine years later, she returns, determined to reclaim her place in the family. That’s a lot more complicated than Sallie expected, and she enters a world of conflict and lawlessness. Sallie confronts the secrets and scandals that hide in the shadows of the Big House, navigates the factions in the family and town, and finally comes into her own as a bold, sometimes reckless bootlegger.
You will fall in love with Sallie Kincaid, a feisty and fearless, terrified and damaged young woman who refuses to be corralled.
This will be released on 28 March 2023.
For years her explorer father promised Dr. Lauren Westlake she’d accompany him on one of his Egyptian expeditions. But as the empty promises mounted, Lauren determined to earn her own way. Now the assistant curator of Egyptology for the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Lauren receives two unexpected invitations.
The first is her repentant father’s offer to finally bring her to Egypt as his colleague on a new expedition. The second is a chance to enter the world of New York’s wealthiest patrons who have been victims of art fraud.
With Egyptomania sweeping the city after the discovery of King Tut’s tomb, Detective Joe Caravello is on the hunt for a notorious forger preying on the open wallets of New York’s high society. Dr. Westlake is just the expert he needs to help him track the criminal. Together they search for the truth, and the closer Lauren and Joe get to discovering the forger’s identity, the more entangled they become in a web of deception and crime.
Adelaide Hills, Christmas Eve, 1959: At the end of a scorching hot day, beside a creek in the grounds of the grand and mysterious house, a local delivery man makes a terrible discovery. A police investigation is called and the small town of Tambilla becomes embroiled in one of the most shocking and perplexing murder cases in the history of South Australia.
Many years later and thousands of miles away, Jess is a journalist in search of a story. Having lived and worked in London for almost twenty years, she now finds herself laid off from her full-time job and struggling to make ends meet. A phone call out of nowhere summons her back to Sydney, where her beloved grandmother, Nora, who raised Jess when her mother could not, has suffered a fall and been raced to the hospital.
At Nora’s house, Jess discovers a book that chronicles the police investigation into a long-buried crime: the Turner Family Tragedy of Christmas Eve, 1959. It is only when Jess skims through the pages that she finds a shocking connection between her own family and this once-infamous event – a murder mystery that has never been resolved satisfactorily.
An epic novel that spans generations, Homecoming asks what we would do for those we love, and how we protect the lies we tell. It explores the power of motherhood, the corrosive effects of tightly held secrets, and the healing nature of truth. Above all, it is a beguiling and immensely satisfying novel from one of the finest writers working today.
This is the sequel to The Murder of Mr. Wickham, which reunited several Jane Austen characters and introduced some of their children. I have requested it and I’m hopeful.
Catherine and Henry Tilney of Northanger Abbey are not entirely pleased to be sending their eligible young daughter Juliet out into the world again: the last house party she attended, at the home of the Knightleys, involved a murder—which Juliet helped solve. Particularly concerning is that she intends to visit her new friend Marianne Brandon, who’s returned home to Devonshire shrouded in fresh scandal—made more potent by the news that her former suitor, the rakish Mr. Willoughby, intends to take up residence at his local estate with his new bride.
Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley are thrilled that their eldest son, Jonathan—who, like his father, has not always been the most socially adept—has been invited to stay with his former schoolmate, John Willoughby. Jonathan himself is decidedly less taken with the notion of having to spend extended time under the roof of his old bully, but that all changes when he finds himself reunited with his fellow amateur sleuth, the radiant Miss Tilney. And when shortly thereafter, Willoughby’s new wife—whom he married for her fortune—dies horribly at the party meant to welcome her to town.
With rumors flying and Marianne—known to be both unstable and previously jilted by the dead woman’s newly made widower—under increased suspicion, Jonathan and Juliet must team up once more to uncover the murderer. But as they collect clues and close in on suspects, eerie incidents suggest that the killer may strike again, and that the pair are in far graver danger than they or their families could imagine.
As for queens, they are either hated or forgotten. She already knows which option suits her best…
You were born to a king, but you marry a tyrant. You stand by helplessly as he sacrifices your child to placate the gods. You watch him wage war on a foreign shore, and you comfort yourself with violent thoughts of your own. Because this was not the first offence against you. This was not the life you ever deserved. And this will not be your undoing. Slowly, you plot.
But when your husband returns in triumph, you become a woman with a choice.
Acceptance or vengeance, infamy follows both. So, you bide your time and force the gods’ hands in the game of retribution. For you understood something long ago that the others never did.
If power isn’t given to you, you have to take it for yourself.
A blazing novel set in the world of Ancient Greece for fans of Jennifer Saint and Natalie Haynes, this is a thrilling tale of power and prophecies, of hatred, love, and of an unforgettable Queen who fiercely dealt out death to those who wronged her.
The Great War has come to Brussels, the Germans have occupied the city, and Edith Cavell, Head Nurse at Berkendael Medical Institute, faces an impossible situation. As matron of a designated Red Cross hospital, Edith has sworn an oath to help any who are wounded, under whatever flag they are found. But Governor von Lüttwitz, the ranking German officer, has additional orders for her. She and her nurses must also stand guard over the wounded Allied prisoners of war and prevent them from escaping.
Edith feels that God called her to be a healer, not a jailer. How can she heal these broken boys, only to allow them to be returned to the hands of their oppressors to be beaten again?
So when members of the Belgian resistance, desperate for help, bring two wounded British soldiers to her hospital in secret, she makes a decision that will change everything: she will heal the soldiers, and then attempt to smuggle them out of the hospital to freedom.
With her loyal friend and fellow nurse, Elizabeth, by her side, Edith establishes her hospital as a safe house for the resistance, laboring tirelessly to save as many soldiers as she can. Working under the watchful eyes of the German army, Edith faces challenging odds and charges of treason—which carries the death penalty if she is caught—as she fights alongside the resistance to bring—and keep—hope to her small corner of a war-torn world.
Based on a true story, Under the Cover of Mercy is the remarkable account of one woman who defied an entire nation in order to heal those who needed her help the most. This will be released in April 2023.
Since her mother’s death, Kit Crockett has lived with her grief-stricken father, spending lonely days far out in the country tending the garden, fishing in a local stream, and reading Nancy Drew mysteries from the library bookmobile. One day when Kit discovers a mysterious and beautiful woman has moved in just down the road, she is intrigued.
Kit and her new neighbor Bella become fast friends. Both outsiders, they take comfort in each other’s company. But malice lurks near their quiet bayou and Kit suddenly finds herself at the center of tragic, fatal crime. Soon, Kit is ripped from her home and Cherokee family and sent to Ashley Lordard, a religious boarding school. Along with the other Native students, Kit is stripped of her heritage, force-fed Christian indoctrination, and is sexually abused by the director. But Kit, as strong-willed and shrewd as ever, secretly keeps a journal recounting what she remembers—and revealing just what she has forgotten. Over the course of Stealing, she slowly unravels the truth of how she ended up at the school—and plots a way out.
In swift, sharp, and stunning prose, Margaret Verble spins a powerful coming-of age tale and reaffirms her place as an indelible storyteller and chronicler of history.
This looks absolutely amazing. It will be released Feb 7, 2023.
Below is a story we did, originally for the #2022 Short Story Challenge, but 2022 is over and we’re still writing. This is an Appalachian-inspired take on the “genie in a bottle.” We hope you enjoy it.
PROLOGUE
1882
Granny Steinbrecher had been in these mountains a long time. She had traveled into this territory as a young girl, walking behind her father’s packhorse. She was married by thirteen and had dug, planted, harvested, cooked, and bore three children all in these hills. When her man died, she was 30, and when her daughter Aggie made her a granny, she was 33. Now at 50, she could barely count her grandchildren.
But the oldest grandson was gone now. Sniffling, she said his name, “Jesse.”
The sniffling turned to sobs, and she leaned against a door frame, weeping. When she finally dried her eyes, the devastation had turned to anger. At the age of 16, Jesse had begun running with a group of older boys, and their wild ways had gotten him killed at 17. The drinking and gambling had led to thievery, and Jesse was shot when their gang tried to rob a store. Now he was gone forever and her anger was burning at the boys he ran with.
Granny knew these mountains very well and was versed in the mountain way, including the darker things that were never discussed in the open. She was one of the original “witchy women” of the countryside. How she ended up with her late husband she would never tell. They couldn’t have been more different. Her husband was a giant. Granny, was small, almost tiny, with long red hair she kept in a bun unless she was working, and a narrow vulpine face. She knew vulpine is a fancy word for foxy, which meant sly back then, and not pretty.
“I wish you were here, Hans,” she whispered.
Her husband had been a mason. With a name like Steinbrecher, you could hardly be anything else. He wasn’t one of those “secret handshake, wink and a nod” masons. He was the real thing. He was a true master of stonework who could bend and shape stone like no one else she’d ever seen. She felt as if she was made of stone right now, especially her heart. Turning back to her revenge, her face grew slyer than ever as she plotted. Jesse was gone, and these boys who led him astray would pay. She would start with the leader, Jasper Turcott.
Jasper Turcott was weary. He had been living on the run since he and his friends had tried to rob a store in a nearby town. Some of the others were in jail, but one had died. Jasper was laying low, sleeping under the stars and planning his escape from this mountain town. He was sorry for the loss of Jesse. Jesse knew the land better than he did, and Jasper would have been much more comfortable with him along. He was sad that Jesse had died, but he had to find a way to get out of here and travel to a city where he could start again.
“Dammit!” He cursed again at the foiled robbery. When that store owner pulled out that gun, he’d had to leave before he could get any money. Now he had to find a way to survive and get out of town. The thirst for liquor that had fueled his plan in the first place was also stronger than ever.
“Jasper!” He heard a woman call his name, and stiffened in fear. Who was this? He peered through the trees and saw a tiny, red-headed elderly woman dressed in black. She was carrying a covered basket and a jug.
“Come on out here!” She called, setting her things on a flat rock. “I have some food for you and something to drink.”
Squinting, Jasper realized he knew this woman. It was Jesse’s Granny, Emma Steinbrecher. “Why would she help him?” Was it a trap? He stayed silent, shrinking back further against the trees.
Granny waited a while, and then sighed. “I know you are scared, but you need to eat. There is nobody here but me. I’ll leave these things and go.”
Jasper watched her walk away into the forest, and waited at least a half hour before he came out. A covered basket greeted him, and inside—fried chicken! He tore into a drumstick greedily. There was apple pie, and a huge piece of cornbread. He picked the jug up to drink, and was surprised to discover it contained moonshine. The food forgotten, he drank his fill. Two hours later, after he had drifted off to sleep, he was awoken by a singsong voice.
Confused, he sat up and saw that Granny was back. She sat on another rock, facing him.
“Hello, Jasper,” she said.
He leaped up and looked around warily for the police.
“There’s nobody here but me.” Granny smiled and stood, approaching him with outstretched hands. “I came here to feed you, not turn you in.”
“Why would you do that?”
She smiled and clasped her hands together, almost in prayer. “My grandson would want me to. Now tell me how I can help you.”
Jasper laughed, a dark look in his eyes. “Unless you can get me out of town, you can’t help.”
“Is that your deepest wish? To leave here?”
He threw up his hands in the air and snorted. “What do you think? I wish I could get out of here right now.”
Suddenly everything changed. Was he in a cave? It was dark and wet, and the space seemed enclosed. Walls were close around him and Granny was gone. The smell of moonshine was everywhere. Was he dead? Was this hell? He cried out in fear.
“Don’t worry, Jasper. You’re still alive.” Granny’s voice seemed to echo from far away. “You are inside that jug with the liquor you love so much.”
In a low and lilted cadence, she began to sing, and the words echoed through his prison.
In this vessel you will live But many wishes it shall give
Make a wish and they will pay With a stay of three full days
And those wishes will come true With the penance paid by you
But to this jug you will be tied And will live until you die.
“You will stay here, Jasper, until someone else holds this jug and makes a wish. Then you will be released for three days while they take your place.” Her voice now showed the anger she had been hiding. “What you do with those three days is up to you. Upon the release of your temporary rescuer, their wish will be granted and you will return to the jug. This jug does not break easily, because it’s made with a special stone, so don’t think you can end things that way.”
Jasper felt as if he were being lifted into the air. “I’ll leave this where the right person can find it,” Granny said, and he could feel her walking along, carrying him with her on her way to more vengeance.
JASPER 1992
Granny told me when she cursed me that I would live until I died. Well, let me tell you that has turned out to be a lot more difficult than I ever thought it would! I lived a lot longer than I had a right to, but so far I haven’t figured out a way to accomplish the dying part. She cursed me good, that’s for sure.
Have you ever said something like, “This meal is so good I could eat it every day?” Well believe me, no matter how much you like fried chicken, cornbread, apple pie and moonshine, after a few months of nothing else you’ll be begging for a change.
Granny Steinbrecher truly knew what she was doing when she stuck me inside this jug. I wanted for nothing. I had a picnic basket that replenished itself no matter how much I ate, and a jug of ‘shine’ that never ran out. While there were no luxuries, I had a table, chair, and a tick mattress full of clean straw and blanket to sleep under when I could finally close my eyes. I had a Bible to read, along with tablets and pencils to write with. I had tried every wily trick I could come up with to escape the curse she laid on me. No matter what I tried, did, or said, I always ended up back in the jug at the end of the three days.
It used to be a lot easier to get folks–usually ne’er-do-wells similar to myself–to pick up a jug full of things unknown. Even a muttered “wish” for something simple like another drink or a decent pair of socks was enough to buy me three days of freedom. At first I tried to get back to the holler and talk to Granny, but travel was a lot harder back then. My jug and I had traveled a lot further than I thought possible the first time I was released.
Stealing a horse was risky, but not impossible, and after an unfortunate soul made a wish and landed in my jug, that was the first thing I did. I rode hell-bent for leather with the jug bouncing crazily behind me, arriving just before sundown on the third day.
Skidding my stolen horse to a halt in the dirt in front of Granny’s stone house I hollered “Granny Steinbrecher! Please! It’s me, Jasper Turcott! I’ve come to tell you how sorry I am about Jesse!” I stumbled towards the house with the jug in my hands and I saw the door creak open. Granny Steinbrecher stalked into the yard as the last rays of sun tucked themselves behind the hills and with a twitch of her fingers, the jug tore itself from my hands into hers.
“Now Jasper, it’s barely been three months since you went to your new home. I hardly think you’ve even begun to feel the sorrow I feel at the loss of my grandson.” With another twitch of her fingers, I saw a flash of light and felt a tremendous tug. With a flinch, I closed my eyes and threw my hands in front of my face to protect it from whatever was coming my way.
Opening my eyes, I found myself back in the confines of the jug, surrounded by the objects I was slowly coming to loathe.
I could hear Granny’s voice from outside the jug, echoing her words of comfort to the poor drunken soul who’d just been sucked out when I was pulled back in.
Furious, I hurled everything that was in reach around the confines of my prison. With a shout at the top of my lungs I hollered “GRANNY!”
I could hear her cackle as she soothed the stranger. “Now, don’t you worry none. We’ll get you fixed up and headed back where you belong in the morning.”
With a clatter, she sat the jug down and I could tell she was talking to me when she continued, “A lot can happen in three days, especially when you’re drunk. We’ll just have to make sure that you don’t end up in worse trouble than you’re already in.”
Before long she picked up my jug and carried me away, back into the forest. I assumed she left me where I could be found, because strangers occasionally found me and gave me a three-day reprieve.
As time went by I made it back to Granny Steinbrecher three more times. Travel had gotten easier but changing her mind proved impossible. I was trapped in this jug for as long as I lived and so far I had not aged a day since Granny had sent me to my just desserts.
The last time I made it back to the holler with plenty of daylight left. I had no idea how long it had been. This time I managed a ride in something called an “automobile” most of the way. As I strode up the overgrown trail towards Granny’s house I could feel the difference in the holler.
Climbing the rocky trail and rounding the last curve of rough path into the small cove in the mountains, my heart fell. “No,” I said, feeling the last dregs of hope leave me.
No one had been here in quite a while. I worried that Granny might have passed on but since my curse continued I had hopes that she lingered as well Not a wisp of smoke from a fire, and the well-tended gardens had fallen fallow long ago. Stones from the house lay scattered in the overgrown grasses filling the clearing. Only a lonely mound of stone marked by a simple cross met my searching eyes.
“Dammit,” I muttered, as I set my clay prison down on the grass surrounding the grave and knelt down. “Well Granny, I suppose you had the last laugh. I’ll never be free no matter how hard I try.”
Searching the ground, I found a small pebble and chucked it at the marker. With a soft crack of stone meeting stone, it bounced off. I heard a slight “tink” as the rock met an object hidden in the tall grass.
With a sigh, I went to see what I had hit.
Running my hands through the grass I found a familiar clay jug. Grasping it with both hands I tugged it from the tangle of grass and looked it over carefully. Pretty much all clay jugs look the same and this was no exception. The only difference between this jug and my prison were the letters “J.T.” scrawled in black paint on the outside. It even had a corn cob stopper like mine.
Pulling the cob out, I leaned in to look inside the jug. Before I could even draw the breath for a shout, I felt a familiar tug and found myself sprawled on a floor in front of a cozy fireplace. I heard a creaking and turned to find myself facing an even more aged version of Granny Steinbrecher, sitting in a carved wooden rocking chair with a bundle of knitting in her lap. Her vibrant hair was almost completely gray.
“Hello, Jasper,” she said, fixing her green eyes on me firmly.
“Is that you in the grave?” I asked, my voice hoarse with fear.
She nodded. “I am gone from this world. This is a simple message for you. There is a way to destroy the jug, but you will have to find it on your own.”
I began to sob and got down to my knees, ready to beg.
“No need for that,” she said softly. “I am only a shadow, a message. I can’t destroy the jug for you. My soul is in Heaven, and I’m sure I am sorry for the vengeance I wreaked on you.”
I knelt there on the stone floor, crying until my tears were gone. When I looked up, Granny had faded away, and soon I was released from Granny’s jug.
I screamed up at the sky, knowing I would soon be returned to the place I had left my jug. I had stopped carrying it with me because I would be returned to it from wherever I was within three days.
And before long I was back on the straw tick mattress, with the chicken dinner waiting. As usual, the evidence of the previous occupant was gone. I had tried for many years to scream out at whoever had been released to help me, but they never seemed to hear me. I couldn’t hear them either. The only person who I ever had been able to hear inside the jug had been Granny. I had no way to communicate, so I was surprised when a piece of paper dropped into the jug.
“What is this thing?” were the only words written on the paper.
Having nothing else to do, I wrote, “my prison,” and was glad that I had learned to read and write before I went astray so many years ago. I added “My name is Jasper,” and then realized I had no way to send it back up. Suddenly a string dropped down into the jug. I folded the note up, tied it with the string, and watched it get pulled back up. This was how I met Jack. I slowly, through a lot of notes, explained my situation. Afterwards, I was surprised by the response.
“I would love to go back in.”
My next note was written in a surprised, angry slash. “WHY!”
His response left me silent. “I haven’t had a place to sleep and steady meals in a long, long time.”
I had never thought of it that way. Although it was always the same meal, when I was in that jug I was fed and dry. I felt ashamed.
After a bit of silence on my part, another note came down from Jack.
“I will make another wish. I will wish to come back to the jug. That will give you three days.”
I had never had anyone willing to make their wish more than once. Usually, they ran away, convinced they were drunk or going crazy. By the time their wish was granted, I assumed they could never find the jug again. During my temporary releases, I had tried to get people to help me over the years, but was never able to get anyone to believe me in three short days. Often I found myself beaten up. Once I was jailed, but that didn’t keep me from the jug two days later.
“You can wish for whatever you want,” I replied. That will put you back in the jug for three days. What did you wish for last time?”
“A warm place to lay my head.”
I explained to him his wishes could be grander, but was soon sucked back out of the jug. Instead of walking away, I began to drop notes, and found out his full name was Jack Anderson. He was 54 years old, which means he could have been one of my great-great grandsons, although I still looked 22. He told me he was having pizza. I had learned about pizza in my time outside the jug.
“No chicken for you!” I wrote excitedly. At that moment, I realized I’d never been happy for anyone else before.
And our friendship began, with both of us exchanging places in the jug and dropping notes back and forth.
Eventually, Jack wished for some money to live on. It came slowly, but a time arrived when my jug rested on a low shelf in Jack’s house, the “warm place to lay his head” that he had wished for. We continued our written conversations. When I told him about Jesse and Granny, he was surprised, especially when he learned this all happened in 1882. He began to research, trying to find the way to end Granny’s curse once and for all.
Jack continued to make wishes for a long time, giving me free time outside the jug. I had my own room in Jack’s house, so I no longer had to find a home for three days or sleep in the woods as I had for so many years. Jack would always leave me a letter in my room before he made a wish. It was always filled with encouragement and a request to look on the brighter side.
“You have a home now,” he would remind me. “You have a friend.”
“My one regret,” I often wrote to him, “Is that we can’t talk face to face.”
“I have wished for that many times,” wrote Jack. “But that one has not been granted.”
We continued to research, but to no avail. Then the day came that I had dreaded. Jack was now 64, and began to write that he was feeling frail. When he told me his kidneys were failing, I was terrified. I knew medicine was much more advanced, but he had to explain to me about dialysis and transplant lists. Jack, like myself, had no relatives. He had to wait for a miracle.
“Wish for a kidney!” I demanded.
“If I try that, I will have to go in the jug.” he would respond in a shaky hand. “I’m not sure I’m up for that right now.”
“You’re right,” I would say in a return note, “It will be tough, but we have to try.” So after six months of my living in the jug without a break and four days away from Jack’s dialysis, I was released when he wished for a kidney.
I immediately began writing him to see how he felt and kept dropping notes into the jug. “No change,” he replied. “I’m so weak I can’t stay awake.”
After it appeared Jack had fallen asleep, I knelt by the jug. I had wished in front of it many times over many years during short releases, begging for the curse to be ended, but to no avail. This time my wish was for Jack. “Whoever can hear me, whether it’s Granny or God, or whoever can control this jug, take my life right now. Take my life in exchange for Jack’s!”
There was a calmness over me as I said the words, but nothing seemed to happen again. I left the room, filled with anguish as I sobbed for my friend. When my tears dried, I looked up into Granny’s face. She was younger, with bright red hair and green eyes. Jesse, who I had so wronged, was standing next to her, looking the same as I remembered. His eyes were kind.
“I’m sorry, Jasper, Granny said. “I’m sorry for my anger and my curse. I shouldn’t have done it. But you have broken the curse. I set the curse so that it could only be broken when you loved someone as much as I love Jesse. That has happened. You are free.
Suddenly Jack was standing beside me. His face was grey and his hair was whiter than the pictures I had seen of him.
“Jasper!” He croaked. “Is that you?” I nodded, and embraced him while the tears ran down my face. When we turned around, Granny and Jesse were gone. All that remained was a jug, split in two.
My request to exchange my life for Jack’s appeared to have been ignored. I continued to live, and made an appointment to be tested so that I could give Jack a kidney. Before that happened, he got the call. A match had been found. The operation was a whirlwind. I was by his side, for Jack had listed me as his son and heir.
After the operation, life went on. Jack and I enjoyed sharing the home and living as father and son. Eventually, I began to see signs of my own aging, which brought me great joy. I am living like never before. I found a job and a girlfriend. And of course Jack and I kept writing together. We are actually working on a novel. It’s about a friendship and a magic jug.
I read this book back in September for the November issue of Historical Novels Review, the magazine of the Historical Novel Society. See my review below.
When Tansy White is betrayed by her intended, she fears she is fated to be alone. Encouraged by her three aunts, she visits Rose Cottage, the home of her late mother. Tansy has dreamed of this cottage her whole life and wonders if it can provide the answers she seeks. But after getting caught in a storm and waking up in a strange house, she meets a man with secrets of his own. Marcus Taylor, the brother of a duke, also has troubling dreams. Working together, can they find out hidden secrets and piece together fragments of dreams?
This second book in the Enchanted Regency Romance series is such a delight. What a treat to read a Regency Romance with a bit of magical realism that is also a Sleeping Beauty retelling! With many nods to the timeless legend running through it, this is a fresh, original, and intriguing romance. Tansy’s ability to dream her future is just the right touch that adds an extra layer to this well-woven story. Readers will become enchanted themselves while piecing together a tapestry made out of dreams, secrets, magic, and lies. Fans of romance and magical realism will enjoy this book.
My rating is 4.6 stars, rounded up to 5 on sites with no partial star option.
I received a free copy of this book from the publishers via the Historical Novel Society. My review is voluntary and my opinions are my own.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Anneka R. Walker is an award-winning author raised by a librarian and an English teacher turned judge. After being fed a steady diet of books, she decided to learn about writing. The result was a bachelor’s degree in English and history. When she isn’t dreaming up a happy ending for a story, she is busy living her own with her husband and adorable children. Visit her website here.
BUY LINK
*Click on the image to purchase this book on Amazon.
Not Noah. Not my husband. But there he is, unconscious in the hospital bed. Our daughter sobs into my shoulder. We love him so much. What if he never wakes up? And who is the little girl beside him, gazing up at us with big, tear-filled brown eyes? Eyes that look just like my husband’s…
Our family of three is perfect. Just me, Noah and our teenage daughter Maya. The day the police knock at our door, telling us about the car accident, is the worst day of my life. My heart shatters, but what they say next almost makes it stop beating: Noah was in the car with another woman who died at the scene. Her two-year-old girl, Luna, miraculously survived.
With Noah fighting for his life, I’m desperate for the truth: and when I search his desk, I find checks made out to Luna’s mother. Did my loving, loyal husband have a secret family all along?
Despite my own terrible pain, at the hospital I can’t help but comfort this poor child as she cries for her mommy. With nowhere else for Luna to go, I find myself opening our home. Seeing Maya hold Luna’s hand and giggle as they chase butterflies in the garden, it’s almost like my daughter has a sister…
I have an impossible choice. Do I tell Maya the truth about her father? If Noah wakes up, will even more secrets come out about who he really is? And can I forgive him enough to give this sweet, innocent girl a home… or will my husband’s betrayal tear us all apart?
Fans of Jodi Picoult’s My Sister’s Keeper, Kate Hewitt and Diane Chamberlain will adore this absolutely unputdownable read about how the people we love most can hide the darkest secrets.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Melissa Wiesner is a night-owl who began writing novels about five years ago when her early-to-bed family retired for the evening. In 2019, she won the Romance Writers of America Golden Heart® Award in the Mainstream Fiction Category for her first novel. Melissa holds two Master’s Degrees in Public Health and Community Agency Counseling. Her day job is in Social Work where she often encounters people knocked down by hard times but who pick themselves up and keep going, just like the characters of her novels. Melissa lives in Pittsburgh, PA with her charming husband and two adorable children.
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Book Review
When the police knock on Emma’s door, she is unprepared for what she is about to hear. Her husband, Noah, has been in a car accident and is in a coma. The woman who was with him has passed away. But what should be done with the little three-year-old girl, Luna, who survived the accident? Emma is speechless, because she has no idea who the woman is, and her only child with Noah is a teenager, Maya. Is Noah the father of this little girl? Thus begins Emma’s journey as she unlocks her husband’s past and finds out the secrets he’s been keeping.
I enjoyed this story of a man’s secret past and how it affects his family. The author does a good job of portraying Emma’s emotions as she peels back layer after layer of the life of her husband, who she thought she had known. Flashes back to the past show us how Emma and Noah meet, fell in love, and marry. Emma’s struggles as a parent during this tragedy are portrayed in a realistic way. This is a well-crafted story with unexpected pieces that fall perfectly into place. It is at times a heartbreaking read. Fans of women’s fiction and “hidden past” stories will enjoy this book.
I received a free copy of this book from Bookouture via Netgalley. My review is voluntary and the opinions expressed are my own. (less)
This is the second book in Karen Odden’s Inspector Corravan mystery series. I had little to no problems reading it as a standalone, but starting with the first book would be beneficial. It is 1878 and Corravan is assigned by Scotland Yard to investigate the collision of The Princess Alice with The Bywell Castle in the Thames River. Over 400 lives are lost. Corravan, who was adopted by an Irish family, the Doyles, tries to conduct an impartial investigation as the newspapers and Scotland Yard seem to be convinced that the Irish Republican Brotherhood is to blame. Corravan tries to maintain calm as anti-Irish sentiment abounds. The details of the crash and the personalization woven into the investigation are impressive. The author’s research is obviously meticulous as she takes us throughout London at that time, both while investigating the crash and while Corravan deals with Irish gangs.
This is a very detailed book as we follow every facet of the investigation. Karen Odden’s ability to bring to life an investigation of a real-life shipwreck that happened over 140 years ago is impressive. Inspector Corravan is also thrust into the aftermath of the crash, rescue, and recovery in a realistic way, and we see all the horrors as he experiences them. The inside look at the Irish gangs and politics is intriguing, and the overall treatment of the Irish at that time is heartwrenching. The soft side of Corravan really doesn’t come out until we meet his love, Belinda, about 30 percent into the book, but those who have read the first book in the series would already have known her and seen this side of the Inspector. Their romance is compelling but does not take over the book. The Doyle family dynamics and the tension caused by decisions made years ago also become a significant part of the story.
My only slight criticism at all is that the first 10 to 15 percent of the book before the shipwreck happens moves a little slowly. The pace picks up significantly after that.
This is a well-thought-out, meticulously researched historical mystery with compelling characters. I highly recommend you check out this series, starting with the first book, Down A Dark River.
I received a free copy of this book via Austenprose Book Tours. My review is voluntary and my opinions are my own.
I did a spotlight of this book for an Austenprose blog tour recently, and the author information, book description, and buy links are at the above link. Just click on SPOTLIGHT.
The Sunday Post is a weekly meme hosted here @ Caffeinated Reviewer. It’s a chance to share news~ A post to recap the past week on your blog and showcase books and things we have received. Share news about what is coming up on our blog for the week ahead. See rules here: Sunday Post
Happy New Year everyone! I’m finally getting back to regular blogging after being sick most of December. My latest cough of over 10 days is finally going away thanks to some antibiotics and steroids. Here’s to a healthier January!
Any resolutions out there? I’m continuing with my diet resolution since May of last year (It took me a while to get started). I’ve lost 34 pounds. I have a lot more to go. A new addition to this list is to reverse my pre-diabetic condition and make sure I never get that dreaded disease. My third resolution is actually to read less. I’ve been taking on too many books, a lot of which never see the blog because I don’t have the time or didn’t feel it blog-worthy. So I’m cutting down on book tours to a degree and concentrating on Netgalley, one or two book tour companies, my favorite Indie publisher, and of course Indie Weekend requests. I met my Goodreads challenge of 200 books, but I’m lowering it to 125 this year.
What resolutions or changes have you committed to for 2023?
Here are my top ten Indie books of 2022 in no particular order. These books are either published by the author(s) or by smaller, independent presses. I reviewed all of these books on Indie Weekend or its previous incarnation, Self-Published Saturday, so I’ve included a link to my review, which provides buy links at the bottom. Please check them out by clicking on the covers.
Christmas in ’45
Cathedral of Silver
Amanda in France
Framed
Deuce
The Girl Who Feared Trains
Your Words, Your Heart
The Necromancer’s Daughter
The Secret Benefits of Invisibility
Distant Flickers
In the comments below, tell me about some Indie books you loved this year that I should check out!
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