Showing posts with label Excerpt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Excerpt. Show all posts

Monday, August 12, 2024

Coastal Magic 2025 Featured Author Spotlight & Giveaway - - Catherine Bruns

 







Welcome to my second Coastal Magic Convention 2025 Featured Author Spotlight! Today, we're shining our Romance Dish spotlight on Catherine Bruns. Catherine is a USA Today bestselling author who has wanted to be a writer since the age of eight. She writes romantic suspense, cozy mysteries (with plenty of humor and yummy food), detective/crime procedurals, and thrillers. I just finished reading Catherine's book that we're spotlighting today, Tastes Like Murder. What a fun read! I'm already excited about diving into more of her books. Please give Catherine a warm Romance Dish welcome. 

 

Welcome to The Romance Dish, Catherine! It’s a pleasure to have you visit with us today. For those who have yet to discover you, please share what readers should expect when they pick up one of your books. 

Thank you for letting me visit! My hope is that readers will always be entertained by my stories and that they can provide a temporary escape to another place and time with no travel necessary.

Family is an important facet of Tastes Like Murder, book one of your Cookies & Chance Mysteries, especially family of the crazy, meddling, humorous kind. What is it about families, and Sally’s in particular, that excites you as a writer? 


Tastes Like Murder
Cookies & Chance Mysteries - Book 1

Sally Muccio’s had her crosses to bear: a cheating ex-boyfriend, crazy Italian parents, and an unfaithful husband, just to name a few. After her divorce, she returns to her hometown to start a novelty cookie shop whose specialties include original fortune cookies, served with a sprinkle of foreshadowing. But there’s no warning when her ex-husband’s mistress drops dead on Sal's porch, and police confirm it’s a homicide. Determined to stop her life from becoming a recipe for disaster, Sal takes matters into her own hands. With two very different men vying for her affection, dead bodies piling up, and a reputation hanging by an apron string, Sal finds herself in a race against time to save both her business and life—before the last cookie crumbles.



I enjoy spending time in Sally’s world because her family is a bit unusual to say the least, lol. They march to the beat of their own drummer and provide a lot of comical moments. Despite the fact that they’re all a little unusual, they are close knit and there’s nothing they wouldn’t do for each other.

Cookies are also front and center in this book and, I admit, had me drooling more than once. Are you a baker? What’s your favorite cookie to make or eat? 

I love to bake. It’s a way for me to relax and destress. For me, picking a favorite cookie is like picking a favorite child. One of my favorites are Josie’s Jelly Cookies, which I’ve included the recipe for. I’m addicted to shortbread cookies, and these have such a light buttery taste that I can never seem to get enough.

Thank you for sharing your recipe. These look delicious!



Josie’s Jelly Cookies

1 ½ cups (3 sticks) of butter, softened
1 cup of sugar
3 egg yolks
1 teaspoon vanilla
4 cups of flour 
Jam – Strawberry, Raspberry, Grape, your choice. (Can be seeded or unseeded.)

Preheat oven to 350° Fahrenheit. Cream butter, sugar, yolks, and vanilla together. Sift flour and stir ingredients into wet mixture. Shape cookies in hand to make a ball about the size of a tablespoon and press thumb firmly into the center. Fill imprint with favorite jam. Bake on parchment-lined cookie sheet for about 10 minutes or until edges start to brown. Let cool—the jelly especially will be very hot! Makes about two dozen cookies.

While I was reading Tastes Like Murder, I could see the story unfolding like a movie in my mind. If this series was taken to the screen, who would you envision playing the key characters? 

If this series were ever to make it to the screen (Hello, Hallmark, I’m available!) I could see Emma Watson in the role of Sally, and perhaps Rachel McAdams as Josie. I know Rachel’s a little older than Josie’s character, but I have every confidence that she could pull it off.

I love that casting!

Let’s learn a bit more about you.

What are your passions (aside from writing, of course)? 

I love to read and attend live theater performances.

What would readers be surprised to learn about you? 

In addition to writing three books a year, I also have a day job. I work as a Contract Management Specialist for the State of New York. Retirement is only a couple of years away (hopefully!), and after that, I’ll be able to pursue my writing full time.

What are you currently reading or looking forward to reading? 

I’m currently enjoying Pretty Baby by Mary Kubica.

Where can readers find you online?

Catherine's Cozy Readers (private Facebook group): https://www.facebook.com/groups/241834706420330

Facebook author page: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100055727634124

Website: www.catherinebruns.net

Newsletter signup: https://www.catherinebruns.net/contact

 

*When readers sign up for my newsletter, they get a free Cookies & Chance novella sent to them! *

Thank you for visiting with us today, Catherine.  

It was a pleasure to be here!


Readers, have you read Catherine's books yet?

Do you like it when authors include recipes in their books? Do you ever make them?

What's your favorite cookie to make...or eat? Feel free to share your recipe.

One randomly chosen person who posts a comment before 11:00 PM, August 14 will receive a signed copy of It Cannoli be Murder, book two in Catherine's Italian Chef Mysteries series. 

*U.S. only

*Must be 18



Join us February 20 - 23, 2025 for the 2025 Coastal Magic Convention in Daytona Beach, Florida! Click for more information, including registration and a list of Featured Authors


 


Excerpt

Tastes Like Murder

Mrs. Gavelli’s lips moved silently until she stared at me in disbelief. “Why you give me lousy fortune again?”

Good grief. “Mrs. Gavelli, I don’t put those in there on purpose. We buy the fortunes from a novelty store, and Josie stuffs them into the cookies. I have no idea what they’re going to say.”

“Yah, sure,” she spat out, and then read aloud. “‘Be nice or leave.’”

Poetic justice. I turned around to ring up her sale, hoping she wouldn’t see my smile.

Mrs. Gavelli glanced over Amanda’s shoulder. “What you get?”

Drawing her eyebrows together, Amanda stared intently at the strip. “I don’t understand this.”

“They don’t mean anything.” Why did people keep putting so much emphasis on these little pieces of paper?

Amanda frowned as she read aloud. “‘No fortune for you. Wrong cookie. Your luck is not there.’”

“Aha!” Mrs. Gavelli pointed a finger at me. “You see? She get bad fortune too. Is setup.”

I closed my eyes and leaned back against the wall, defeated.

“Well—” Amanda sniffed. “I know you’re jealous of me, but it does seem like kind of a childish thing to do.”

Count to ten, Sal. Nope, didn’t work. “Buy something now or leave.”

Mrs. Gavelli shook her fist at me. “You rude. Is no way to treat customer.” She flounced out the door, bag in hand.

Amanda didn’t even look up at her departure. “Ooh, I think I want one of those vanilla yummy things with the chocolate drops on top. What the heck. Give me six of them.”

“Fudge,” I corrected her. “They’re called Fudgy Delights. And that will be six dollars.” I scooped the cookies into a bag.

Amanda’s jaw dropped. “Don’t I get a discount?”

She had to be kidding. “Why on earth would I give you a discount?”

“I was in here yesterday as well,” Amanda said. “Shouldn’t volume count for something?”

“Six dollars, please.” I clenched my jaw, praying she would leave soon. I didn’t want another confrontation.

Amanda shook her head in disgust while she pawed through her mammoth-sized Gucci purse. She handed me six singles and snatched her bag, reaching inside to remove a cookie. “You really should lose the attitude. It makes you ugly. Oops, I mean uglier.”

I gritted my teeth and turned away from her to ring up the sale, praying for more self- control. If I could wait on Amanda and manage not to lose my temper, I knew I’d be successful with any other customer who walked through the door. “Good night. It’s closing time.”

She took a bite and moaned, closing her eyes. “But I’m not done enjoying my cookie yet.”

“Enjoy it outside on the porch. Now, please.”

My cell phone started to ring from the back room. “Good night, Amanda.”

She shot me a dirty look and turned on her heel, pushing the front door open with force, bells jingling away merrily at her departure. I quickly locked the door before she decided to return.

Good riddance. I ran into the back to grab my phone and glanced at the number on the screen before answering. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, sweetheart,” she purred into the phone. “You’re still coming for dinner, right?”

“Yes, I’ll be there.”

“It’s already getting dark.”

I surveyed the kitchen area one last time and shut the lights off. “Mom, I think I can drive in the dark.”

“Did you want to bring a guest?” Her voice was thick with hope.

“You mean a date? Who on earth would I bring?”

“Jake was here yesterday. He’s such a nice—”

I pinched the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger. “I’m not ready for this. Please ease up, Mom.”

She sighed loudly. “You’re nearing thirty. You should get married again and have a couple of babies. Your biological clock is ticking.”

“Okay, I’m hanging up now. Do you need anything?”

“The newspaper didn’t get delivered today. Can you bring yours? Oh, and why don’t you bring your father some of those genettis Josie makes? They might cheer him up.”

“Sure. I’ll see you soon.” I hung up and walked out to the bakery case. As I placed a dozen of the Italian, glazed cookies sprinkled with nonpareils into one of my pink bakery boxes, I knew they wouldn’t do the trick. My father had recently turned sixty-five and was convinced he’d die soon. It didn’t matter that he was in excellent health. Domenic Muccio said his time was coming soon.

His latest hobby consisted of scanning the obituaries and attending random wakes so that he’d know exactly what he wanted when the fateful day arrived. My mother was happy to leave him to his own devices. His total opposite, she acted like a teenager most days. I loved them dearly, but they were both certifiably nuts.

I walked to the front door and changed the sign over to Closed. Amanda sat in one of the wicker chairs, nibbling away. She must have sensed my presence because she suddenly turned and waved at me gaily. I ignored her as I shut the light off and lowered the blind on the door.

Once upstairs, I stepped into the shower for a quick rinse and changed into a pink T-shirt and white shorts. I grabbed a pair of sandals from my closet and blew dry my hair. After adding mascara, I was good to go.

Darkness had fallen in the twenty minutes since I’d closed the shop. Thunderstorms were expected later, the reason for the pitch-black sky. Perhaps then the heat wave would be over for the year. Fall was right around the corner, and soon enough winter would beckon with snow and cold, northeastern temperatures.

I sighed. Come January, I’d really be missing the Sunshine State.

My car was parked out in the alley. I started toward the back door of the shop then remembered the newspaper. It would be a shame if my father couldn’t read the obituaries during dinner. Shaking my head, I unlocked the front door and pushed to open it. Something held the door firmly in place from the other side. Convinced the heat was making it stick, I pushed harder. The door moved forward but only slightly.

What the heck? I reached along the inside wall to turn on the porch light. I sucked in a sharp breath, and my blood ran cold.

Draped across my woven welcome mat lay Amanda’s lifeless body.





Wednesday, April 10, 2024

Excerpt & ARC Giveaway - - The Best Life Book Club

 

THE BEST LIFE BOOK CLUB

By Sheila Roberts

MIRA Books May 7, 2024 trade paperback, eBook, hardcover and audiobook

 

"[With] a set of characters so vivid we want to be their best friends, and a story that keeps us turning the pages, The Best Life Book Club is your book club book of the year. . . . A novel of pure delight! —Patti Callahan Henry, NYT Bestselling author of The Secret Book of Flora Lea



It started as a book club. It became a way to build a better life together.

Karissa Newcomb is ready for a new start in a new neighborhood, as far away as she can get from Seattle, where her husband cheated on her with the neighbor who was supposed to be her best friend. She and her nine-year-old daughter are moving on to the city of Gig Harbor on the bay in Puget Sound. She even has a new job as an assistant at a small publishing company right in Gig Harbor. Her new boss seems like a bit of a curmudgeon, but a job is a job, she loves to read, and the idea of possibly meeting writers sounds fabulous.

Soon she finds she’s not the only one in need of a refresh. Her new neighbors, Alice and Margot, are dealing with their own crises. Alice is still grieving her late husband and hasn’t been able to get behind the wheel of a car since a close call after his death. Margot is floundering after getting divorced and laid off in quick succession. They could all use a distraction, and a book club seems like just the ticket. Together, the three women, along with Alice’s grumpy older sister, Josie, embark on a literary journey that just might be the kick-start they need to begin building their best lives yet.
 

"With a dash of humor and a charmingly relatable cast of characters, Roberts smartly leans into her storytelling strengths with another heart-warming and hopeful tale."—John Charles, Booklist


An Excerpt from

THE BEST LIFE BOOK CLUB

By Sheila Roberts

 

“Envy is a waste unless you turn it into fuel to get out there and do something with your life.”

—from Where There’s a Will There’s a Way by Annie Wills

 

Gig Harbor, Washington 

Lilith’s other grandma lived in a housing development outside of town. The house was modest with a well-kept front lawn and a fence separating the backyard from the front. The roof of the promised bounce house peeked up over it, and Karissa could hear childish squeals as she followed her excited daughter up the front walk. 

Macy was clutching a wrapped box like it was treasure. If you were an eight-year-old girl and into fairies, it was. The box contained the newest book in the series the girls were reading and a feather fairy crown as well as a wishing stone—choose the one with your favorite fairy on it (great merchandising). 

Lilith’s grandma, Sylvia Peretti, opened the door and introduced herself. She smiled at Macy and said, “The girls are in the bounce house. I’ll put your present with the others, and you can go join them.” She motioned to a sliding glass door. 

“Thank you,” Macy said, and hurried to the door. 

“Thank you for inviting Macy,” Karissa said. “When should I come back for her?” 

It was the polite thing to say since the invitation hadn’t been for Macy and Mom. There were adults present though. She saw her boss, Edward, standing by that sliding door, looking out at the rockin’ bounce house and talking with an older man, Mr. Peretti most likely. A woman somewhere around Karissa’s age sat on the couch, while another woman, also similar in age, lounged in an easy chair, her feet on a footstool. Family members, perhaps? From Lilith’s mother’s family? Both of them eyed Karissa like cats, the aloof Egyptian goddess kind. 

Edward turned and waved at Karissa and smiled. It seemed that he smiled more lately, and this one reached his eyes. 

The two women kept their hands around their drink glasses, and neither one called, “Come, join us.” 

“We’ll be done by four,” said Sylvia. 

Karissa nodded, promised to return, and went back to her car, disappointed. There would be no nosy chats, no helping serve cake. And no discovering who the unwelcoming committee was. For all she knew, one of the women could have been there as Edward’s guest. Although if that was the case, wouldn’t he have been sitting with her? 

Karissa drove to Invitation Bookstore to console herself. A good book was always a woman’s truest friend. 

At the bookstore she stocked up on novels by some of her favorite writers—the two Susans (Susan Wiggs and Susan Mallery), Marie Bostwick, and Rachel Linden. One of the Friends & Fiction ladies had a book on the shelves. She loved their podcasts! Oooh, and here was a new one by Brenda Novak. And…she needed to stop before she blew up her credit card. She rationalized her book binge by reminding herself that she was supporting authors, helping them pay their bills. Look what a good thing it had turned out to be that she hadn’t been invited to the party. Look at all the imagination exercise tools she’d have missed out on. 

She settled in her car, picked up a book and opened it to the first page. She got four chapters read in Susan Mallery’s latest, and then it was time to go pick up Macy. 

This time Sylvia invited her in, and she seemed a little more welcoming. Maybe because she knew Karissa wouldn’t be staying long? 

The girls were finishing up their cake, and Karissa supposed Sylvia could hardly leave her standing on the porch. The two women Karissa had seen earlier were helping with cleanup as Karissa followed Sylvia into the kitchen. 

“These are my daughters, Arletta and Meagan,” she said, and the two women said a quick hello and then went back to stowing away leftover goodies. 

The girls hadn’t lacked for food. In addition to the fairy cakes, which had been given little cake wings, they’d enjoyed ice cream, chips, fruit, and tiny tea sandwiches. They all wore costume butterfly wings on their backs and glitter in their hair, and smiles on their faces. 

“Let’s get a picture before you all go home,” Sylvia said to the girls. “Lilith, put your cousins on either side of you.” 

Which left Macy, the best friend, on the outside of the inner circle. 

Cousins trump best friends, Karissa reminded herself. 

Macy didn’t care, she was beaming with ice cream on her chin, an arm around one of the cousins. 

Edward and the older man came into the room at that moment. “Karissa,” Edward greeted her. “I thought you’d stay.” 

Your mother-in-law didn’t invite me. “I had some errands to run.” 

He nodded. “Of course.” 

“You didn’t miss anything but chaos,” said the older man. “Come on, girls, time to scram. Grandpa’s pooped.” 

The little girls all giggled, and Sylvia shook her head at him. 

“Time to go, Macy,” Karissa said to her daughter. “What do you say to Mrs. Peretti?” 

“Thank you for having me,” Macy said. “And thank you for the fairy wings!” 

Fairy wings for all. Sylvia Peretti wasn’t stingy, that was for sure.

 “You’re more than welcome,” she said to Macy. “Nice to meet you, Karissa. I didn’t realize you were Edward’s secretary.” 

Ah, that explained the change in attitude. 

“Administrative assistant,” he corrected. 

“Administrative assistant. All these changes in terminology,” said Sylvia. “I remember when secretaries were secretaries and garbage men were garbage men.” 

Karissa wasn’t sure what to say to that. 

“Times change,” Edward said. “I’ll walk you and Macy to your car, Karissa.” 

He did, but he didn’t say anything about his in-laws. Instead, he thanked Karissa for coming. “It meant a lot to Lilith to have Macy here.” 

“I can tell she had a wonderful time.” 

“I’m sorry you had errands to run. I thought you might have enjoyed staying.” 

Had he wanted her to? She wished she’d been invited. 

“I’m sorry, too. It looks like it was a great party,” she said. 

“Magical,” he said with a slight head shake. 

Was that glitter she saw in his hair? “Is there…something in your hair?” 

“They made me be fairy king. I’m going to take two Advil when I get home.” 

They had reached the car, and Macy bowed to Edward and said, “Thank you, King Thistlebottom. I was honored to be your loyal subject.” 

Karissa choked back a giggle. “King Thistlebottom?” 

He frowned and shook his head. “Don’t ask.” 

“I guess I shouldn’t address you as such at work on Monday then?” 

“I guess not,” he said firmly, and she laughed. 

“Very well, then. I can call you Your Majesty if you prefer.” 

He was already a handsome man, but that smile took handsome to a whole new level. 

“Edward will be just fine,” he said, opening the car door for Macy. 

“Oh, that’s right. You probably want to keep your magical kingdom and powers a secret,” Karissa teased. 

“I think that would be best. See you Monday.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~


Have you read Sheila Roberts yet? Have you watched any of the movies based on her books?

Do you belong to a book club? If so, what book is your club currently reading?

Two people who post a comment before 11:00 PM, April 12 will each receive a print ARC of The Best Life Book Club. 

*U.S. only
*Must be 18


Sheila Roberts is the author of more than 50 novels, including ON STRIKE FOR CHRISTMAS, which was made into a Lifetime Network movie. Also adapted for the small screen, Sheila’s THE NINE LIVES OF CHRISTMAS is a perennial Hallmark channel favorite, and CHRISTMAS ON CANDY CANE LANE debuted on TV in December 2022. The author has sold more than three million copies of her novels. Before launching her author career, Sheila owned a singing telegram company, wrote music and played in a band. A cancer survivor, she resides in Washington state with her husband, who is also an author. For more information about Sheila, visit www.sheilasplace.com.

 

Sheila social media links:

Sheila’s author Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/funwithsheila

 

    Sheila’s Instagram author page: https://www.instagram.com/sheilarobertswriter/

 

    Sheila’s TikTok page  https://www.tiktok.com/@sheilarobertswriter

    Sheila’s BookBub page:  https://www.bookbub.com/authors/sheila-roberts

    Sheila’s Goodreads page:  https://www.goodreads.com/sheilaroberts

    Sheila’s YouTube page:  https://www.youtube.com/channel/UClUWd1SxFGzd7NEkojcjDtA


 

Thursday, June 15, 2023

Tour Review - - Famous in a Small Town

Famous in a Small Town
by Viola Shipman
Publisher: Graydon House
Release Date: June 13, 2023
Reviewed by PJ


For most of her eighty years, Mary Jackson has endured the steady invasion of tourists, influencers and real estate developers who have discovered the lakeside charm of Good Hart, Michigan, waiting patiently for the arrival of a stranger she’s believed since childhood would one day carry on her legacy—the Very Cherry General Store. Like generations of Jackson women before her, Cherry Mary, as she’s known locally, runs the community hub—part post office, bakery and sandwich shop—and had almost given up hope that the mysterious prediction she’d been told as a girl would come true and the store would have to pass to…a man.


Becky Thatcher came to Good Hart with her ride-or-die BFF to forget that she’s just turned forty with nothing to show for it. Ending up at the general store with Mary is admittedly not the beach vacation she expected, but the more the feisty octogenarian talks about destiny, the stronger Becky’s memories of her own childhood holidays become, and the strange visions over the lake she was never sure were real. As she works under Mary’s wing for the summer and finds she fits into this quirky community of locals, she starts to believe that destiny could be real, and that it might have something very special in mind for Becky…

PJ's Thoughts:

I'm late to the party when it comes to Viola Shipman books. I've only read two - so far - but you best believe I'll be working my way through the back list soon. These books are special. In addition to heart-tugging stories, they are also love letters to my native state of Michigan. If you've ever visited Northern Michigan, Shipman's descriptions in this book will tease your memories to the surface: the lure of a crystal clear Great Lake, the mystical light at dawn and dusk, the dance of leaves on mighty trees, and the faint sound of long-ago drums whispering on a gentle breeze. If you have yet to discover the beauty and legends of this area, this book will have you wanting to correct that. 

While the background of this book sets the stage for the story, it's the characters who bring it to life. Shipman has infused each of them with relatable fears, hopes, and dreams, bringing them to such vivid life that I'm firmly convinced they're actually living their best lives in Good Hope. I love that all of these characters have some miles on them. They've reached ages where they know they need to make life changes in order to move forward, to escape the (false) comfort of the ruts they've been living in and claim the happiness that's eluded them. I love the mystical element of the story that unites Mary and Becky; the connection between generations of women that supports, teaches, and stretches but never breaks. And I love that even Mary, who is sure she knows how the story will end, can be surprised by the twists coming her way. 

This is a book about friendship, family, forgiveness, starting over, finding love, and discovering your destiny. It's filled with quirky characters, unexpected romance, humor, heart, and strong women with the will to claim that destiny. It's also filled with cherries, the lifeblood of this region of Michigan, and the many delicious things you can make with them. Some of my favorite scenes in this book were in the kitchen, with Mary teaching Becky how to bake the many cherry delights sold at the General Store. It took me straight back to my grandmother's kitchen, the recipes she shared as she taught me how to bake, sharing love, and life lessons, along the way. 

I loved every perfectly placed word of this story and am already eager to read it again. It touched my heart, made me laugh, made me cry, and left me eager to return to page one and experience it all over again. It also left me aching to visit the quirky, scenic, fruit-filled small towns of Northern Michigan again; to climb the sandy dunes, play in the cool, clear water of Lake Michigan, walk among the fluttering trees, and open my soul to the faint, distant drums of the past.  

~~~~~~~

Excerpt from
Famous in a Small Town

THE LAKE EFFECT EXPRESS

August 1958


“Good News from Good Hart!”


by Shirley Ann Potter


It was the spit heard ’round the world!

Our town is still atwitter over the news that the daughter of Mr. Peter Jackson was crowned the 35th Annual Cherry Pit Spittin’ Champion of Leelanau and Emmet County last Saturday. Fifteen-year-old Mary Jackson, an Emmet County high-school sophomore, was not only the first woman—uh, girl—to win the contest, but her stone flew a Guinness Book of World Records–breaking distance of ninety-three feet six-and-a-half inches, shattering the previous record set by “Too Tall” Fred Jones in 1898 at the state’s very first Cherry Championship right here in Good Hart.

News of her accomplishment has flown farther than her cherry pit, with reporters from as far away as New York and London anointing our town sprite with the moniker “Cherry Mary.”

I caught up with Mary at the Very Cherry General Store—our beloved post office/grocery store/sandwich- 

and-soda-shop run by Mary’s mother and grandmother—to see how she managed such a Herculean feat.

“My mom taught me to whistle when I was a kid (“A kid!” Don’t you just love that, readers?), and I had to be loud enough for her to hear me when she was down at the lake. I think that made my lips strong,” Mary says. “And I started eating sunflower seeds when I was fishing on the boat with my grandma. She taught me how to spit them without having the wind blow them back in the boat.”

Mary says she practiced for the contest by standing in the middle of M-119—the road that houses our beautiful Tunnel of Trees—and spitting stones into the wind when a storm was brewing on Lake Michigan.

“I knew if I could make it a far piece into the wind, I could do it when it was still.”

While her grandmother was “over the moon” for Mary’s feat, saying, “It’s about time,” Mr. Jackson says of his daughter’s accomplishment, “It’s certainly unusual for a girl, but Mary isn’t your average girl. Maybe all this got it out of her system, so to speak. I hope so for her sake.”

The plucky teenager seems nonplussed by the attention, despite seeing her face all over northern Michigan in the papers and the T-shirts featuring her face—cheeks puffed, stone leaving her mouth—and the words Cherry Mary in bright red over the image.

“A girl can do anything a man can,” Mary says in between retrieving mail, spreading mayonnaise on a tomato sandwich and twirling a cherry around in her mouth, before perfectly depositing the stone in a trash can across the room. “You just gotta believe you can. That’s the hard part. Harder than spitting any old pit.”

Mary seems ready to conquer the world, readers. Cheers, Cherry Mary! Our hometown heroine!

*******

BECKY

June 2023

“Okay, Benjie, would you like it if Ashley did this to you?”

He scrunches up his face to stave off tears and shakes his head. “No.”

“Well, it’s not a nice thing to do.”

I study Ashley’s hair, then take her face in my hands. “It’s going to be okay. Trust me?”

The little girl nods her head. I give her a hug.

I walk over to my desk and open the bottom drawer . There is a large jar of creamy peanut butter sitting next to a bag of mini Snickers. The peanut butter is for emergencies like this: removing gum from a little girls’ hair. The Snickers are for me after I’m finished with this life lesson.

“Well, I’m just glad neither of you are allergic to peanuts,” I say. “Allows me to do this.”

I cover the gum stuck in the back of Ashley’s pretty, long, blond hair and then look at her.

“I promise this works,” I say. “I’ve performed a lot of gum surgery.”

She nods. Her eyes are red from crying, her cheeks blotchy.

“Why did you do this, Benjie?” I ask the little boy seated in the chair before my desk. 

He ducks his head sheepishly, his brown bangs falling into his eyes, and murmurs something into his chest.

“I didn’t catch that,” I say. “What did you say? Remember it’s okay to express your emotions.”

He looks at me, freckles twitching on his cheeks. “I can’t say,” he whispers.

“Yes, you can,” I say. “Don’t make this any worse than it already is.”

Benjie glances toward the door to ensure that it is closed. “Tyler Evans told me to do it or he’d punch me on the way home.”

Being a grade-school administrator is akin to being a detective: you have to work the perp to get the truth. Eventually—no matter the age—they break, especially when a verdict on punishment is waiting in the balance.

It’s the last day of school. Benjie does not want his summer to be ruined.

I lean down and slide the gum out of Ashley’s hair. I go to my sink, dampen a cloth and put some dish soap on it, return and clean the rest of the peanut butter off her locks. I move to a tall filing cabinet and retrieve a clean brush. The filing cabinet is filled with bags of sealed brushes and combs, toothbrushes and EpiPens, certificates and old laptops. I run the brush through her hair. I hold up a mirror for her to see the back of her head.

“See, good as new.”

“What do you say to Ashley, Benjie?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Do you accept his apology?”

Ashley shakes her head no. “You ruined the last day of school. You’re a big ol’ meanie.”

“Ashley,” I say, my tone sweet but authoritarian.

“I accept your apology,” she says.

“You’re free to go,” I say to her.

“But you’re still a big ol’ poop head,” she says, racing out of my office, bubblegum-free hair bouncing.

I actually have to clench my hands very hard to stifle a laugh.

Big ol’ poop head.

How many times a day would I—would any adult—like to scream that at someone?

“Are you telling my parents?” Benjie asks.

“I have to,” I say, “but I’ll tell them why you did it, and then I’ll have a talk with Tyler.”

“No!”

“I have to do that, too,” I explain. “And I’ll talk to his parents as well.”

He looks at me, his chin quivering.

“We have a zero-tolerance policy here for bullying,” I say. “Trust me, Tyler won’t do it again. You have to stand up to bullies. You have to show them the right way to do things. Otherwise, they never change.”

In addition to being a detective, an assistant principal is also akin to being the vice-president of the United States. Everyone knows your name, everyone knows you’ve achieved some level of status, but nobody really understands what the hell you do all day.

“I promise it will be okay,” I say. “Just promise me you won’t do it again. You’re a nice boy, Benjie. That’s a wonderful thing. Always remember that.”

“I promise.” He looks at me. “Can I go now?”

“One more thing. You know you aren’t supposed to bring gum to school.”

“I know. But one of the moms was handing it out before school.”

Mrs. Yates, I instantly know. She wants to be the cool mom. She’s Room Mom for 2A, and, Mrs. Trimbley, the Room Mom for 2B, told me that competing with her this year was like being a contestant in Squid Game.


Benjie continues. “It’s Bubble Yum. My favorite. My mom won’t let me have it because it’s bad for my teeth.”

Benjie opens his mouth and smiles. He resembles a jack-o’-lantern. He’s missing teeth here and there, willy-nilly, black holes where baby teeth once lived and adult teeth will soon reside.

Too late, I want to say to Benjie, but he won’t get my humor. Only my best friend, Q, understands it, and my grandparents who made me this way.

I think of how much I loved chewing gum as a kid.

“Do you have any more?”

“Am I going to get in trouble again?”

“No,” I say with a laugh.

He reaches into the pocket of his little jeans and hands me a piece of grape Bubble Yum.

My favorite.

“Do you know what my teacher used to say when I’d sneak gum into class?”

“You snuck gum into class?”

He stares at me with more admiration than if Albert Pujols from the St. Louis Cardinals suddenly appeared with an autographed baseball.

“I did,” I say. “It was about the only bad thing I ever did. My teacher used to hold out her hand in front of my desk and ask, ‘Did you bring enough gum to share with the whole class?’”

“Did you?” Benjie asks, wild-eyed.

“No,” I say. “That was the whole point. She wanted to embarrass me. And it always worked. Teachers just liked to say that.”

I take the gum from Benjie. “This is just between us, okay?”

He giggles and nods.

I pop the gum into my mouth. It’s even more insanely sweet and sugary and tastes even better than I remember. My taste buds explode. I chew, Benjie watching me with grand amusement, and then—looking out my window to make sure the coast is clear—blow a big bubble. A massive bubble, in fact. It expands until it’s the size of a small balloon. Benjie continues to watch me in silence as a child today might do today trying to figure out how to use a rotary phone. After a few moments, the flavor subsides.

“Want to learn a trick?” I ask.

“Yeah!”

“If you ever get caught chewing gum, don’t stick it in a nice girl’s hair or swallow it. Learn to do this.” I narrow my lips as if I’m going to whistle, puff my cheeks and spit my gum into the air as if Michael Jordan were draining a game-winning three-pointer as time expired. The purple gum arcs into the air and deposits directly into a trash can next to a low-slung sofa ten feet across my office.

Benjie pumps his fist and lifts his hand to high-five me.

“Where did you learn to do that?” he asks.

“Sunday school,” I wink. “My grandma taught me.”



Excerpted from Famous in a Small Town. Copyright © 2023 by Viola Shipman. Published by Graydon House, an imprint of HarperCollins.



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VIOLA SHIPMAN is the pen name for internationally bestselling LGBTQIA author Wade Rouse. Wade is the author of fifteen books, which have been translated into 21 languages and sold over a million copies around the world. Wade chose his grandmother’s name, Viola Shipman, as a pen name to honor the working poor Ozarks seamstress whose sacrifices changed his family’s life and whose memory inspires his fiction. 

Wade’s books have been selected multiple times as Must-Reads by NBC’s Today Show, Michigan Notable Books of the Year and Indie Next Picks. He lives in Michigan and California, and hosts Wine & Words with Wade, A Literary Happy Hour, every Thursday.