NaNoWriMo Winner: I’m done!

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I’m done! It’s November 30th, and I am officially finished my first draft of Out of the Depths. It has been quite the month, with a rollercoaster of emotions as I tried to figure out what this book was about and where it was heading. Some days I got discouraged and never wrote. Some days I gritted my teeth, plowed through the opposition, and kept writing. Other days were glorious, where I dreamed of whole scenes and woke up and wrote them. Characters just popped onto the page fully developed, with distinct voices and characteristics. They said and did things I didn’t expect and took the story down twisted paths that eventually ended up where they needed to be. It was amazing!

Oh, I know this is just the beginning. Now the hard work begins of checking back to my outline (thanks to Johnny Worthen I actually made one), rewriting, rewriting, and more rewriting. But still the accomplishment stands. I’ve written a novel. Yeah!

Here’s an example of one of my favorite characters:

The dragon stood there with a confused look on its face. “Dear me. Oh dear me. What have I done?”
He looked at Westley with an expression of chagrin. “My good knight, may I congratulate you. Somehow you have broken the spell that was laid on me. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Thank you, thank you.”
The dragon spoke with a cultured, British voice in a fine tenor, which was surprising considering its size.
Westley felt dazed. “Uh… I don’t think you should go around thanking people here. It gives them power over you.”
“Oh, that only applies to the Fey, and I can see that you are no Fey, although you do smell of Selkie and spider.” He sniffed delicately. “And something else I haven’t smelled for a long time. Hmmm.”
Westley stayed where he was, frozen against the boulder. At any moment the dragon would decide to eat him. Would it politely apologize before snatching him up and crunching on him like some appetizer?
The dragon seemed to be lost in thought. Then he looked at Westley again. “No matter. Please, Sir Knight, put that sword away. You have nothing to fear from me now. Allow me to introduce myself. Professor Martin Cho at your service, head librarian of the Boston Public Library. At least, I was before I was ensorcelled by the Dark Knight. It’s all a muddle. Would you mind awfully telling me the date?”
Boston? Library? Westley thought he was going to faint. He stammered. “Ah. When I left home it was June 20th 2016.”
The dragon shook its head. “Ah, well, they most certainly have replaced me by now. I started working at the Boston library back when it opened in 1890, and I lost track of the time. Some sixty-fifty years later, I set out to research some arcane tidbit of information, and I was captured. Very foolish of me. I wasn’t paying attention at all. And perhaps I’d grown a little careless. After all, your world had become wrapped in iron and few of the Fey had any influence there. And since I’ve been here, well, to me it seems as if only a mere week has gone by, but then you can’t expect time to match here, can you?”

Out of the Depths is a YA Fantasy.

NaNoWriMo Update

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It’s November 19th, and that means that all of us WriMo fans have been writing like crazy for 19 days. How is everybody doing? Don’t give up. You still have enough time to finish your novel. Keep writing!

I’ve got 48,863 words, and a lot farther to go in my plot.

Here’s an excerpt from Out of the Depths:

A man walked toward him. As he got closer, Westley recognized him and tensed up.“Callum. Fancy meeting you here.”
Westley didn’t know how old Callum was. He was an advisor to Morell Thomas, the Atlantic Selkie High King, so he couldn’t be under fifty, but he looked as if he was in his late twenties, with a lithe yet muscular body that spoke of a lifetime spent swimming. His skin glistened in the moonlight, and his dark hair dripped water. He wore only swim trunks, yet the cold night air didn’t seem to bother him.
The older man’s lips quirked. “You’re out late.”
“Working on a case. Needed a break.”
Callum’s eyes caught the moonlight and gleamed for a moment. There was something wild and dangerous about him, a sense of other that raised the hairs on Westley’s arms. Maybe Callum was an alien from another planet, and this was all a complicated plot to take over the world. No, instead he was a Selkie spy with his own agenda and his fingers in far too many pies.
Either way, no one would believe Westley if he told them the truth. He had been caught up in a fairy tale, and not only did he not understand the plot line, but he didn’t see a happy ending coming either. This was not a Disney film. This was the Brothers Grimm.
Fear crawled along his skin. “Who are you? What are you?”
“Ask yourself that same question, boy.” The mocking lips grinned now.

 

 

The Cubs Win the World Series!

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Wasn’t that an amazing game? Wow. It was so much fun to cheer for the Cubs. Now for all you baseball fans, if you want to read a book involving the Cubs, baseball, magic, adventure and even romance, look for Double Play on Amazon.

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NaNoWriMo is Here!

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Today is November first, and you all know what that means. It’s NaNoWriMo — or National Novel Writing Month. It’s time to shut out the outside world. Leave the dishes in the sink and the beds unmade. Ignore the phone calls, the invitations for entertainment, and hubby’s pleas to turn out the light and go to sleep. Hurry home from work or school and fire up that computer. This is it — that amazing month when you focus on writing that novel you’ve always wanted to start, when you experience the exhilarating rush of having an entire book-length story flow out of your mind, through your fingertips and onto your computer screen. You will live the adventure you create. There will be roadblocks: the kids will need at least some of your attention, work will demand a certain amount of hours, teachers will complain, and sickness may dog every step. People may even die. But will you let a few small details like that stop you from writing the greatest novel on earth? No! Go forth my friends with determination to write every day, to push through the obstacles that will come, and let that story shine forth. You can do it. I believe in you. And for all of those skeptics and doubters out there who are just too left-brained: no, there is no monetary reward at the end of the journey: just 50,000 words and the enormous satisfaction of having lived an entire life in a month. Happy Writing!

The Cubs Win!

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Tonight in Game 2 of the World Series, the Chicago Cubs won 5-1.  Yeah! What a great way to end a very long day. The Cubs have been my favorite baseball team ever since I began my research for my novel, Double Play. I am so happy that they are in the World Series, and I’ll be cheering for them during every game. And now, if you want to curl up with a book about baseball, the Cubs, magic, adventure and love, read Double Play. Available on Amazon.

A girl with a secret. A desperate magician. A baseball game that will never be forgotten. Read Double Play: A Novel of Magic today.

Who was Alice Rowan?

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I recently sent away for a DNA kit from Ancestry.com. I was curious, although I figured I was 75% Scottish, with a smattering of English, Irish, German, Dutch, and French. Imagine my surprise when my results came back 39% Irish. That got me wondering where all that Irish DNA came from, so I started researching one of my known links back to Ireland, the Rowan family. Through a lot of painstaking searching, this is what I’ve come up with. If anyone out there knows more about the Rowan family, or has photographs, I would appreciate your input.

My great-great-grandparents were Patrick Rowan and Bridget McInulty (spellings differ depending on which record you look at), both born in Ireland, possibly County Mayo. Patrick was the son of John Rowan and Catherine Violent (Giolent? — the handwriting on the old records is a bear.)  Bridget was the daughter of John Joyce and Bridget McAnulty.  Their first daughter (that we know of), Bridget Rowan, was born in 1845 in County Mayo, Ireland. I don’t know for sure why they moved to Scotland, but I am assuming it had to do with the Great Famine (1845-1852) when potato blight destroyed Ireland’s main food staple. A million people died of starvation and disease, and another million people fled their homeland. I can only imagine how hard life was for them. They may have lost other children during this time too.

The Rowan family emigrated to Dumfriesshire, Scotland, where their daughter Mary Rowan (1849) and son John Rowan (1851) were born in Closeburn. Sometime after that, they moved to Dumfries, where my great grandfather, Patrick Rowan Jr. was born on April 3, 1856. Later, the family moved to Maxwelltown, Troqueer parish, Kirkcudbrightshire, and their youngest daughter Catherine Rowan was born on November 13, 1858. They lived on Broatsch’s Close for the rest of their lives, where Patrick and Bridget ran a lodgings house, and Patrick was a general laborer (or labourer if you’re Canadian or British). Maxwelltown was a small town on the west bank of the river Nith, which was the boundary between Dumfriesshire and Kirkcudbrightshire. Just across the river was Dumfries. (Maxwelltown merged with Dumfries in 1929.)

The 1861 census gives a glimpse into their lives: Patrick was 40, Bridget 34, daughter Bridget is 16 and working in the fields as an agricultural labourer, Mary is 12, attending school, John is 10, also going to school, Patrick is 5, and Catherine is 2 years old. (Keep in mind that census ages can be off a few years, especially with adults.)

On October 10, 1865, their oldest daughter, Bridget was married (Catholic church) to David Nicholson, the son of Alexander Nicholson and Sarah Cummings, who lived at Kirkbean, Kirkcudbrightshire and then Dumfries, Dumfriesshire. David was a farm worker residing at Chapel Hill, Carlarverah, Dumfriesshire.  He and Bridget went on to have 11 children (John, Margaret, Alexander, Mary Jane, Sarah Jane, David, Janet, Mary, James, Catherine, and Francis, all born in Troqueer parish except for the last child, Francis, a son born in Galashiels, on the Scottish Borders. Bridget died in Selkirk, Selkirkshire at age 73.

On October 28, 1869, their second daughter, Mary, was married (Church of Scotland) to Robert Welsh, a mill worker from Dumfries (son of James Welsh and Jane McQueen), at Dumfries, Dumfriesshire. They had 11 children (Jane Robson, William Kirkpatrick (died young), Robert (died age 4), John, Robert, Douglas (died age 4), Mary, William, Catherine, Francis, and Douglas.) The Welsh family lived in Dumfries until 1881 when they moved to Kilmarnock, Ayrshire. Robert became a railway traffic inspector. Mary died at age 70 from diabetes at Glasgow.

The 1871 census shows us that Patrick is 53, Bridget is 50, John is 19, working as a plasterer, Patrick is 15, a piecer in a factory, and Catharine is 12, going to school. Sometime in this year, Patrick Sr. went blind, and had to deal with this struggle.

The 1881 census shows Patrick Rowan 60, unemployed and blind, Bridget is 56, Patrick Jr. is 24, working in a woolen mill, and Catherine is 22, a sewer in a woolen mill. They have 6 lodgers staying with them at this time. John Rowan, their son is in Ayr, Ayrshire, age 30, a plasterer, boarding with the Conton family.

On March 16, 1885, John Rowan (age 33) now a mason’s labourer, is married to Janet McCulloch (age 35), a cotton winder, both living in Glasgow.  She is the daughter of William McCulloch (a stone quarrier, deceased) and Elizabeth Weir, both from Ireland, who settled in Maybole, Ayrshire and had 8 children.  (I couldn’t find any children for John and Janet, except for the 1891 census in Glasgow, Goven parish, Lanarkshire, where it lists a son William age 17, born 1874 in Glasgow, Lanarkshire, a plasterer’s apprentice (Perhaps step-son to John?).  In 1901, John (50) and Janet (56) are living at Glasgow, Goven parish, Lanarkshire. And an E. McCulloch, daughter, was the informant on Janet’s death record.)

There are different nefarious stories for John Rowan, but I think he is mistaken for another John Rowan, for when Janet died on September 24, 1920 (age 82) at Glasgow, she was married to John Rowan, plasterer. When John died on four months later on January 15, 1921 (heart) at Glasgow (at the same address), he is listed as the widower of Janet McCulloch. More research is needed here.

On October 9, 1888, Catherine Rowan died from gangrene in the foot, complications of diabetes.  She was single, working as a darner in a tweed factory, living in Kilmarnock, Ayrshire near or with her sister Mary. Her family must have mourned her deeply.

On January 30, 1891, at the Troqueer church, Patrick Rowan Jr. (age 33, general labourer) married Alice Heron/Simpson, age 22, a field worker living at Broatch’s close, Maxwelltown, the daughter of Henry Heron and Alice Simpson.  I’ll tell more about them later.

In the 1891 Census, Patrick Rowan is 75 and Bridget is 65, lodgings housekeepers with many people lodging with them.

On June 8, 1892, Patrick Rowan Sr. died at Maxwelltown, at age 72 of heart disease, bronchitis, and dropsy. His daughter in law, Alice, was present at his death. On September 24, 1892, Bridget followed her husband, at age 65. Her son Patrick Rowan was present.

Patrick Rowan Jr.

My great-grandfather, Patrick Rowan Jr., was a general labourer and a Corporation Employments lamplighter. The marriage certificate says Alice was a spinster, but further research showed she wasn’t.

Alice Simpson/Heron has a great deal of mystery surrounding her. When she married, she was a field worker age staying at Broatch’s Close, but I haven’t been able to find her birth record or birthplace. In the 1891 census, she is 21, but there is no birthplace recorded. Her father was Henry Heron, and her mother Alice Simpson. None of the census records prior to 1891 match the few details I have for them. On the birth records for the children, when Patrick was the informant, he said her maiden name was Heron, but when Alice gave the information, she said her maiden name was Simpson. I concluded that her parents weren’t married.

Alice Simpson was born in 1869. At age 16 she married Baptiste Alfonso Caroen in 1885 at Berwick-on-Tweed, a town on the Scottish/English border of Northumberland. As she was underage, I am guessing that they eloped. Baptiste was a French polisher, or a person who prepares and finishes fine furniture.

(Baptiste was born in France about 1860, and emigrated to England and eventually to Scotland. He shows up at age 12 on January 1, 1872 in Herefordshire, England before a judge for stealing 2 cloth leggings from a Theodosia Delahey living at Staunton-on-Wye on Dec 26, 1871. (He was probably hungry and cold.) He is sentenced to one month hard labour and 4 years in reformatory school. (Just the sound of it makes me shudder.) In the 1881 census, a Baptist-Allfounsi Curon age 24, born France Paris, confectioner, is in Whitehaven parish, Cumberland Co, England, with Ann McGowin or Curon, age 23, peddler, born at Montrose, Scotland.

After marrying Alice in 1885 at Berwick-on-Tweed, Baptiste and Alice went to Dumfries, Dumfriesshire, where two daughters were born.

Josephine Caroen was born October 20, 1887 in Dumfries to Baptiste Alfonso Caroen and Alice Simpson. She married 1st Edward Graham, milliner, in 1908, and 2nd,  in 1910 married James McGuire, labourer, of Dundee. She died June 10, 1929 at the Royal Infirmary, Dundee, Scotland age 42, and her parents are listed as John Caroen, French polisher, deceased, and Alice Caroen MS Simpson, deceased. Informant was her husband James.

Isabella Caroen was born September 22, 1889 at Dumfries to Baptiste Alfonso Caroen, French Polisher, and Alice Simpson.  She married Albert Rivers in 1912 in Wantage, Berkshire, England, and then Frederick Rivers. They had a son Thomas Rivers born in 1921 and a daughter Winnifred Ann Rivers, born in 1925. Isabella died in 1973 in East Hendred, Berkshire, England.

Shortly after 1889, Baptiste and Isabella split up, and Josephine disappears from the census.

On January 30, 1891, at the Troqueer church, Patrick Rowan Jr. (age 33, general labourer) married Alice Heron/Simpson, age 22, a field worker living at Broatch’s close, Maxwelltown, the daughter of Henry Heron and Alice Simpson.

In 1891 census, Patrick Rowan Jr, is 33, married, a lamplighter working for Corporation Employments, with Alice his wife, age 21, and Isabella Rowan, daughter, age 1. Patrick might have adopted Isabella. But where is Josephine?

In 1891 census, Alphonso Caroen is a lodger, age 26, French polisher, living at New Wynd house, Hamilton, Lanarkshire, Scotland. No birthplace given. (Jean Baptist Caroen, labourer, died 14 July 1922 at New Buildings, Springfield, at age 63. (Not sure if this is the right man, but on Josephine’s death record, she lists her father as John Caroen, French polisher.)

Patrick and Alice Rowan had three children, all born at Maxwelltown:

Patrick Rowan III was born March 17,1892. John Rowan was born September 22, 1893, and died on February 5, 1895 at Maxwelltown. Alice Rowan was born July 21, 1895.

Sometime in the next five years, Alice Simpson Caroen Rowan died. I have not been able to find a record of her death. With all the deaths in the family in these few years, it must have been a very hard time for them, especially the children.

In the 1901 Census, Patrick Rowan Jr. is 41, living at Old Bridge Road, a lamplighter and labourer, widower, and has Bella C. daughter age 10, and Patrick, a son age 8. The big question is, where is his daughter, Alice, who would have been only 6 years old, and his step daughter Josephine, who would have been 14?

In 1911 Census, Patrick Rowan is an inmate (of where it doesn’t say), age 57, widower, lamplighter, born Dumfries, listed as having 3 children.

Patrick’s son, Patrick Rowan III married Mary Ann McKeen (b. 1895 in Belfast, Ireland) on 13 February 1920 at Blythswood, Glasgow, Lanarkshire, Scotland. She was the daughter of John McKeen and Catherine Gough, both from Ireland. They had 7 children – Alice, Patrick J., Samuel, Frederick, Catherine, Joyce, and Patrick. (Patrick J, Samuel and Frederick died as children.) They lived in Lochwinnoch and Paisley, Renfrewshire, Scotland, and Oxford, Oxfordshire, and East Hanney, Berkshire, in England. Patrick III died in 1953 in Carlisle, Cumberland, England, and Mary Ann died in 1972 in Nr. Stroud, Gloustershire, England.

On December 7, 1923, Patrick Rowan Jr. died at Lochwinnoch, Renfrewshire, age 67 yrs. He was a general labourer, the widower of Isabel Heron. Patrick Rowan, his son was present. (We are left to wonder if Patrick married a second time, or if he meant Alice Heron, and Alice’s middle name was Isabel.)

Alice Rowan

Alice Rowan, my grandmother, was born July 21, 1895 to Patrick Rowan Jr. and Alice Heron/Simpson. She is missing from the census until 1911, when she shows up in Colvend, Kirkcudbrightshire, age 18, a general domestic servant to Joseph and Margaret Bigham and their three children.

In 1912, at age 20, Alice Rowan emigrated to Canada. Why did she leave? Perhaps she felt as if she had no one left. She sailed aboard the Pretorian, departing from Glasgow, Scotland, and arrived in Montreal, Quebec on 27 June 1912. She was single, intended to live permanently in Canada, could read and write, and intended to go to Seaforth, Ontario. (Now Huron East, Huron County, Ontario) She was a confectioner in Scotland, and intended to be a Domestic servant. She lists her religion as Catholic.

The photo at the top was sent from Alice to her half-sister Isabel.

On 11 October 1913, Alice May Rowan (age 21, residing in Saskatoon) married Arthur Mayne Rafuse (Rayfuse) age 20, chauffeur residing in Saskatoon (born 10 December 1892 in Liverpool, Nova Scotia to Ephraim Rafuse and Charity Pentz) in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. She lists her mother’s maiden name as Alice Simpson. They are married at Mrs. Ovenden’s residence, 334 Ave, D Smith (South), Saskatoon, by Rev. John G. Gurchy of the Church of England. Witnesses were Mrs. L. Ovenden, and C. Robilland of Saskatoon. We are left to wonder how Alice and Arthur met. Was she a “mail order bride” or did she come to the Saskatoon area to meet relatives? What brought them together?

They moved to a homestead near Alsask (near Morengo) Saskatchewan, (NW ¼ of 17-28-17 West 3rd) where Arthur farmed for a time. They might have lived in a sod house, for this was flat prairie land. On the land next to them was Arthur’s brother, Joseph Parker Rayfuse.

Their children were all born at the homestead, and JP Rafuse was the informant on the birth records:

Gladys May Rayfuse, born 19 October 1915, Parker Joseph Rayfuse (my father), born 24 October 1916, (A Miss Rayfuse was in attendance, possibly Arthur’s sister Florence?), Alice Isabella Rayfuse (later named Mary Esther), born in 26 April 1918.

In the 1916 Census, at 28-27-W3, near Milton P.O., Saskatchewan, Arthur Rayfuse is 23, farmer, b. NS, Alice wife is 21, b. Scotland, Gladys, daughter is 8 months old, born Sask, and Joseph P. Rayfuse, brother to Arthur, is 30, b. NS., farmer.

Alice and Arthur divorced, 9 July 1920.  Arthur was 27 and she was 24. We may never know what happened, but I can imagine that life in a sod house in the middle of the prairie, with poor land, little water, no other women to talk to, and three small children, must have been very difficult. I don’t know why she didn’t take her children with her when she ran, but the tragedy affected them all. For some reason Arthur didn’t keep the children.

Alice went to Calgary, Alberta, and the children were fostered or adopted to various families in the area. They grew up not knowing about each other or their family, and it was only as adults that some of them were able to reconnect with each other. Joseph Parker (age 4) was adopted by the Kidd family and known as Richard Kidd. When the Kidd family went back to Scotland, they left him behind and sent him back to his father, who put him on a train to British Columbia to live with his uncle, Thomas Rayfuse. He changed his name back to Parker Joseph Rayfuse. He served in the army as a mechanic during WWII, married Margaret Maclean in Winnipeg in 1956, and had 4 girls, all born in Red Deer, Alberta. He later divorced, remarried Olga Workun, and lived in Camrose, Alberta. He died August 11, 2004 and is buried in Calmar, Alberta. Gladys May (age 4) became Gladys Phyllis, and ended up in Los Angeles, where she married Dan Mendez and had 6 children. She died on July 8, 1979.  Alice Isabella (age 2) became Mary Esther. She lived with the O’Connor family for a time, and then was in foster homes until age 21. She joined the navy, and eventually ended up in Vernon, British Columbia, where she married Ray Neilsen. She had 4 sons and 1 daughter, and they lived at Silver River, Chilliwack, Harrison, and Langley. Mary Rayfuse Neilson died on 25 November 1957 at Langley, BC age 39.

Arthur Rayfuse had one other child that I know of. Walter Gordon Rayfuse was born December 9, 1922 to Nellie Dorothea Lutz, who later married James Charles Wilson. James adopted Walter, who was an adult when he learned about his birth father. Walter married Ethel Beatrice Digby in Vancouver, BC, had 4 children, and died in 2001 in Reno, Nevada.

In Calgary, Alice changed her last name to Rowan. She lived at 1614 – 20 Ave NW Calgary. In 1927, Arthur’s brother, Joseph P. Rafuse, also lived in Calgary at 117 – 11 Ave. W., and I wonder if he made contact with her. Alice died on 30 January 1934 in Calgary, Alberta, age 38. She was buried by the welfare at Burnsland Cemetery, Calgary, as no relatives were known at the time. My father said once that at one point he was in Calgary. If he’d known she was there, he would have gone to see her and got to know her.

Arthur Rayfuse later married Margaret Berndston (b. 1903) on 14 Feb. 1927 at Los Angeles, California. Arthur was a carpenter/building contractor and travelled frequently between Los Angeles, California and Saskatoon. I have found 11 records of his border crossings while traveling to California, from 1926 to 1956.  Arthur Rayfuse died September 1, 1966 (stomach cancer) in Monterey Park, Los Angeles, California. His will states that he was a widower, with three living children: Gladys Rafuse, Joseph Parker Rafuse and Walter Gordon Rafuse, and one deceased child, Mary Isabelle Rafuse. He gave his estate to his friends, Florence Odell Hyndman and Mary E. Shafer. He is buried in Rose Hills Memorial Park, Whittier, California.

This is what I know about the Rowan family. If anyone has any other information about them, please contact me.

 

League of Utah Writers Conference

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Thank you to all those who worked so hard to put the writers’ conference together and make it a success. I enjoyed it very much, learned a lot, and made some new friends. Thanks to all the presenters and teachers, and for the keynote speaker, Mette Ivie Harrison, whose address was very inspiring. Thank you also to my fellow members of the Bountiful Chapter. It was great to hang out with you, and I appreciate your friendship. The food was delicious. My favorite class was Maxwell Alexander Drake’s — what a great teacher! I always come away from the conferences with a renewed desire to write and write well. Congratulations, Johnny Worthen, President-Elect! This next year is sure to be very entertaining.

 

 

David: The Unseen

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Book Review: David (Book 3 in the Unseen series), by Johnny Worthen: I have thoroughly enjoyed reading this series.  Eleanor was amazing, and Celeste was a heart-wrenching, action-packed cliffhanger (Ahhh!), so I have waited impatiently for David to come out.  This third and final book did not disappoint me.

After assuming the shape of a cat and being held captive for months, Eleanor thinks she is beginning to forget what it means to be a human, to be Eleanor.  She misses her true love, David, and she worries about the good people she left behind. So, she changes back to human and returns to Jamesford, the small Wyoming town where she first came to know love and all its opposites — prejudice, bullying, and hatred — that turned her life into a battlefield.  There she finds that some mourn her “death”, some use the event as a cheap tourist attraction, and some still hope that she’ll return. Eleanor learns more about her skin-walker heritage, which makes her wonder if death and misery are all that is in store for her and those who befriend her.  Eleanor also learns that she has more friends than she thought as they reach out and help her.  David is an amazing person who sees into her heart and loves her no matter what she looks like on the outside.  But there are others who still mean to harm her, and as evil forces gather, bent on her capture, Eleanor is once again in danger.  As she struggles to survive, Eleanor tries to do everything she can to make things right.

I loved this story, from the beginning of Eleanor to the end of David.  She became real, and I mourned and rejoiced with her in all her experiences, which dealt with issues that far too many regular humans face every day. Eleanor may be a skin-walker, but she is good, and she cares about people. Johnny has created a fascinating, complex character whom I will miss very much. Five Stars.

Stone and Spark

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Book Review: Stone and Spark – by Sibella Giorello:
Sibella Giorello goes back in time and gives us a new mystery/suspense series featuring Raleigh Harmon as a teenager.
When her best friend, Drew, goes missing, Raleigh is sure that something terrible has happened. However, no one will believe her — not even the police. Her only ally is a gruff but good-hearted teacher who encourages her to observe, learn, and keep on seeking answers. Raleigh uses her budding interest in geology to help her uncover the clues and soon finds herself in danger.
I loved this book. I’d already read the adult series, and I was so impressed with it. This book reveals the home life that Raleigh struggles with – an insane mother, a desperate sister, and a father who refuses to see the truth about their lives. Raleigh suffers so much angst, yet she refuses to give up, even in the face of overwhelming odds. She meets DeMott Fielding, who has good manners, a stable home, a kind heart and a willingness to help. You understand why she is so drawn to him. Stone and Spark is well written, with incredible attention to detail that makes the story rich and full. The suspense never stops. I could not put it down. Five Stars.