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Showing posts with label RABT. Show all posts
Showing posts with label RABT. Show all posts
Thursday, October 31, 2019
Tuesday, August 27, 2019
RABT presents... WOKE UP DEAD by Nadia Gilkes - GIVEAWAY!
Woke Up Deadby
Nadia Gilkes
Fiction / Humor
Date Published: August 27, 2019
Hope Allison McKinley died. Or, at least everyone thought she did. When she suddenly wakes up in the middle of her own funeral - to the shock of all her loved ones - that is just the beginning of her problems.
Reawakened, Hope now sees what everyone really thought of her. The casket is cheap, the flowers suck, and she’s wearing an outfit she wouldn’t be caught dead in! It’s her worst nightmare come true and all hell is about to break loose.
In Woke Up Dead, Hope is faced with the enormous task of putting her death behind her and rebuilding her life. Having to overcome being a YouTube sensation and being shunned by her family, she slowly comes to realize that this is going to be a long, difficult, frustrating road.
I hate the idea of being kept in a box. I have always had a creative flair and delight in quilting, writing, and occasionally dusting off my flute. Over the past decade, I've served my clients and community as a family law attorney. I genuinely love serving, but being devoted to others can often leave one feeling drained and unfulfilled.
In 2019, a mind shift happened. I decided to unchain myself from my desk and nurture my need to create. I stopped living the life others expected of me and started chasing my dreams. In September of 2019, my first book, Woke Up Dead, will be available for purchase. It is an amusing, tongue-in-cheek novella about a young woman who wakes up at her own funeral, to the shock of those in attendance, and soon finds that getting back to life as normal is nearly impossible.
In my spare time, you can find me traveling, creating, attending concerts, and drinking my sorrows away after the latest Buffalo Bills loss. I also attend as many P!nk experiences as I possibly can. (She does not do concerts ... she creates bucket list experiences ...).
If you want to be the first to know what I'll do next, please follow me on social media and sign up for my mailing list and nadiagilkes.com
Thursday, June 13, 2019
RABT presents... KNIGHTMARE ARCANIST by Shami Stovall - EXCERPT + GIVEAWAY!
Hi there!
Welcome back to Satisfaction for Insatiable Readers.
Today, we're playing host to a stop along the RABT Book Tours & PR promotion featuring a NEW title COMING SOON to a bookstore/virtual shelf near you! It's a work of Young Adult Fantasy and from the sound of things...should be rather interesting. So, if you're ready, let's get to today's title in the spotlight...
by
Shami Stovall
YA Fantasy
Capital Station Books
RELEASE DATE: June 18th 2019
About the book...
Magic. Sailing. A murderer among heroes.
Gravedigger Volke Savan wants nothing more than to be like his hero, the legendary magical swashbuckler, Gregory Ruma. First he needs to become an arcanist, someone capable of wielding magic, which requires bonding with a mythical creature. And he’ll take anything—a pegasus, a griffin, a ravenous hydra—maybe even a leviathan, like Ruma.
So when Volke stumbles across a knightmare, a creature made of shadow and terror, he has no reservations. But the knightmare knows a terrible secret: Ruma is a murderer out to spread corrupted magic throughout their island nation. He’s already killed a population of phoenixes and he intends to kill even more.
In order to protect his home, his adopted sister, and the girl he admires from afar, Volke will need to confront his hero, the Master Arcanist Gregory Ruma.
A fast-paced flintlock fantasy for those who enjoy How to Train Your Dragon by Cressida Cowell, Unsouled (Cradle Series) by Will Wight, and Percy Jackson and the Olympians by Rick Riordan.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~ EXCERPT ~~~~
I threw down my sack of clothes. “Illia?” I trudged through the mud until I reached her side.
“Look!” She pointed.
I glanced up. A bright white creature sat perched on a crimson branch, sticking out like snow in the dead of summer. It wasn’t a squirrel—it appeared more like a ferret—with brilliant blue eyes and silver stripes down its back.
Illia got to her feet, her dress half-covered in brown grime.
“Is that a mystical creature?” Lyell asked as he walked over. Well, he wasn’t really walking. He lifted his leg high with each step, making sure his foot came out of the thick water before moving forward. At one point his boot got sucked off his foot, and he struggled to find it with a sneer on his face. “I can’t believe it. A mystical creature here, of all places?”
“Hello,” Illia called up to the white ferret. “My name is Illia. What’s yours?”
The tiny creature, no bigger than my forearm, tilted its head from side to side. At first, I didn’t think it would respond. Then it rubbed at its face like only rodents could and replied, “Are human parents trying to kill off their children through negligence nowadays? You three really shouldn’t be here unsupervised.”
Although he spoke with an air of sophistication, his squeaky little voice made it hard to take anything he had to say seriously. I stifled a laugh.
“Volke and I are adults,” Illia said. “But not Lyell. He was just going home. Right, Lyell?”
“What?” Lyell said once he reached us. “Why would I go home now? Do you see that? It’s a mystical creature! In the flesh!”
“Yeah. Maybe you should hurry home and report it to your father.”
“What? N-no!” He straightened himself and then glanced up at the ferret. “Bond with me, creature. I’m a member of the Ren family. I’m educated, talented, and my brother is already an arcanist.”
“I won’t bond with a child,” the ferret said.
“What? But—”
The ferret shook his head. “No exceptions.”
It didn’t surprise me. Mystical creatures became more like the person they bonded to, and children often haven’t grown into their true selves yet. Plus, no one wanted to become immature or childish, so most mystical creatures waited to bond with individuals only after their coming of age. Lyell still had a couple years to go.
Knowing the ferret wouldn’t bond with him also sent a flood of relief through my body. The last thing I wanted was to lose another arcanist opportunity to the Ren family.
“I want to bond with you,” Illia said, completely ignoring Lyell’s incredulous look. “I think we would be perfect together.”
The ivory ferret rubbed at his nose. “Bond with you, huh?”
“That’s right.”
“Hm. I see.” He bounded to the edge of the branch and hopped up and down. “While I want nothing more than to leave this wretched mire, I can’t just bond with any ol’ random person.”
Illia glanced around and then cocked her good eyebrow. “Well, I’m not just anyone. I’m the talented individual who discovered your whereabouts. I’m your rescuer.”
The ferret chirped as he hopped. But then he stopped and stroked his tiny chin with one of his paws. “I suppose you did find me. Though, to be fair, I was heading out of the mire myself. Finding me doesn’t prove much. Oh, I know! We’ll have a ceremony of worth. It’s only proper, after all. You have to prove yourself to me.”
“Anything,” Illia replied.
The ferret bounded across the branch again, his run a mix of jumping and scurrying. Then he stopped at the far end of the limb—the closest he could get to Illia, though he was still three feet above her head—and he stared down with a rodent smile.
“But how shall I determine your worth?” he asked. “I don’t want to watch you parade around in the mud. Physical feats aren’t as impressive to me as wits and cunning. Oh! I have an idea. We should have a contest of character. You should impress me with tales of your past.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
About the author...
Shami Stovall relies on her BA in History and Juris Doctorate to make her living as an author and history professor in the central valley of California. She writes in a wide range of fiction, from crime thrillers to fantasy to science-fiction. Stovall loves reading, playing video games, entertaining others with stories, and writing about herself in the third person.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
UP FOR GRABS...
(1) $25 AMAZON GIFT CARD!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Special thanks to Cami at RABT Book Tours & PR for the chance to bring this tour to you. (THANKS!) For more information on this title, the author, this tour, or those on the horizon, feel free to click through the links provided above. Be sure to check out the rest of the tour for more bookish fun!
Until next time, remember...if it looks good, READ IT!
Monday, June 10, 2019
RABT presents... THE LONELY SPINSTERS CLUB: KENDALL by Daphne Hargrow - REVIEW + GIVEAWAY!
Hi there!
Welcome back to Satisfaction for Insatiable Readers
Today, we're joining RABT Book Tours & PR for a stop along their current promotion featuring a Chick-Lit title you're gonna want to add to your summer reading lists stat WITH the promise of more to come! Yes, my friends, it's the first installment in a planned FIVE BOOK series entitled The Lonely Spinsters Club, and while that title might give you pause, trust me...it'll be worth the exploration! So, if you're ready, let's get this party started! Cue the tantalizing music as we welcome today's blog tour guest and ebook of choice....
The Lonely Spinsters Club, Book 1
by
Daphne Hargrow
Romantic Comedy, Chick-Lit
Date Published: May 15, 2018
About the book...
She doesn't have time for a relationship, but maybe she could swing a one-night stand. After all, he's just a stripper, so no need to worry about the future... or a broken heart.
Kendall has it all: a soaring law career, a bank account filled with cash, and an apartment overlooking the Chicago River. Her life couldn’t get any better; at least that’s what she thinks before she hosts a bachelorette party for her younger cousin, Ruthie.
What starts out as a low-key soiree quickly turns into an evening of debauchery when two strippers show up unexpectedly. During their act, Kendall can’t keep her eyes off the dark and stoic Giovanni. Fueled by too many Moscow Mules and ignited by the male form, her suppressed desire smolders.
With the prodding of her older cousin Freya, Kendall pursues a one-night stand with Gio. But when she realizes she wants more, Kendall is forced to reexamine her priorities as well as her lifelong definition of success.
Kendall's story is the first installment of the five-book romantic comedy series THE LONELY SPINSTERS CLUB.
💵 🎵 👖 🎵 💵
Honestly, it was a great read from start to finish! You can't help but love our girl Kendall. She lives her life, chases her goals, and tries not to worry what others say or think about her...but deep down, she wants to make her family happy, just on her own terms...and alas, love has taken a backseat to her ambitions. Well it DID at least...guess it just takes that one to spin things in another direction, although the direction events take for Kendall are most definitely unexpected. Anywho, as I said, I really felt she was a great leading lady, oh and yeah, I'm there with her on the terminology thing (you know if you've read it! )...LOL! When life starts turning from lemonade to lemons, she struggled to change (who wouldn't? ), but eventually finds her own path while satisfying her heart. You see? Women CAN have it all.
Oh, and I'd be remiss if I didn't mention Gio with more than an obscure passing nod. He was certainly more than what he seemed at first glance, even if there wasn't really anything he could physically hide behind at first gland...*ahem*...but that's not to say that our attractive man of many talents was without flaws. He had a chip on his shoulder from a past hurt which made him somewhat blind to Kendall's stresses. He also had an unwillingness to let anyone truly in, which certainly makes things in the heart department more challenging, but that's not to say he didn't fight it...eventually...and in the mean time, we were treated to a feast for the eyes AND heart.
All in all, it was fun to be an honorary member of the Lonely Spinsters Club, fantabulous to see the "president" of said club get booted from her position, and wonderfully fulfilling to know that there's more to come. Can't wait to see what the author has in store for the other members...especially after some things that happened! Surprisingly, it does bring to mind what could be a weightier question...could YOU do it? Could you date a stripper/dancer? Reading recommendation for those that love a bit of humor in their romance, or are looking for a light yet curiously fun read for a summer day.
💵 🎵 👖 🎵 💵
About the author...
Daphne Hargrow is a romance writer, avid reader, and novice yogi. She has also published a few young adult novels under a different name. When Daphne is not writing, thinking about writing, or reading about writing, she watches YouTube conspiracy videos and dreams of the day when she, too, can join the ranks of the Illuminati.
💵 🎵 👖 🎵 💵
UP FOR GRABS...
(1) SIGNED PAPERBACK EDITION OF
Kendall by Daphne Hargrow!
💵 🎵 👖 🎵 💵
Special thanks to Cami at RABT Book Tours & PR for the chance to bring this tour to you as well as the ebook for review. (THANKS!) For more information on this title, the series, the author, this tour, or those on the horizon, feel free to click through the links provided above. Be sure to check out the rest of the tour for more bookish fun!
Until next time, remember...if it looks good, READ IT!
Saturday, June 8, 2019
RABT presents... SECTION ROADS by Mike Murphey - GIVEAWAY!
Section Roads
by
Mike Murphey
Coming of Age / Mystery / Humor
by
Mike Murphey
Coming of Age / Mystery / Humor
Date
Published: June 8, 2019
Publisher:
Acorn Publishing
When
attorney Cullen Molloy attends his fortieth high school reunion, he doesn’t
expect to be defending childhood friends against charges of murder…
In
a small town on the high plains of Eastern New Mexico, life and culture are
shaped by the farm roads defining the 640-acre sections of land homesteaders
claimed at the turn of the Twentieth Century. Cullen and Shelby Blaine explore
first love along these section roads during the 1960’s, forging a life-long
emotional bond.
As junior high school band nerds, Cullen
and Shelby fall under the protection of football player and loner, Buddy Boyd.
During their sophomore year of high school, Buddy is charged with killing a
classmate and is confined to a youth correctional facility. When he returns to
town facing the prospect of imprisonment as an adult, Cullen becomes Buddy’s
protector.
The case haunts the three friends into
adulthood, and it isn’t until their fortieth reunion, that they’re forced to
revisit that horrible night. When a new killing takes place, Cullen, Shelby and
Buddy find themselves reliving the nightmare.
Advance
Praise
“An
ambitious, evocative small-town tale located somewhere between Peyton Place and
The Last Picture Show.” –Kirkus Review
About
the Author
Mike
Murphey is a native of eastern New Mexico and spent almost thirty years as an
award-winning newspaper journalist in the Southwest and Pacific Northwest.
Following his retirement from the newspaper business, he and his wife Nancy
entered in a seventeen-year partnership with the late Dave Henderson, all-star
centerfielder for the Oakland Athletics, Boston Red Sox and Seattle Mariners.
Their company produces the A’s and Mariners adult baseball Fantasy Camps. They
also have a partnership with the Roy Hobbs adult baseball organization in Fort
Myers, Florida. They love baseball, fiction, cats and sailing. They split their
time between Spokane, Washington, and Phoenix, Arizona. Mike enjoys life as a
writer and old-man baseball player.
Thursday, May 2, 2019
RABT presents... FIVE HUNDRED FEET ABOVE ALASKA by Robert M. Brantner
Five Hundred Feet Above Alaska
by
Robert M. Brantner
Fiction
by
Robert M. Brantner
Fiction
Date
Published: 4/25/2019
500
Feet Above Alaska is the story of Peter Connors, a young man who moves to
Alaska in pursuit of his dream of becoming a commercial pilot. While the pilots
in Alaska are known for their superior airmanship, they are also famous for
their disregard of the rules that govern them. Determined to ultimately be an
airline pilot in “the lower forty-eight” Peter vows to walk the straight and
narrow. Yet, when Peter is the only pilot available to rescue a comrade who
crashed in the snow-covered tundra, he is forced to compromise the very ethics
that define him. Over time, Peter’s competence begins to overpower his regard
for the rules. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Peter begins a downward spiral.
The life Peter had carefully constructed for himself is at odds with the “live
or die” flying of Alaska. Over the course of a year of doing battle with the
elements on a daily basis, armed only with his plane, his wits and his skill to
bring him home every night, Peter must decide whether it is more important to
embrace life or cheat death.
About
the Author
Robert
M. Brantner is currently working as both a captain and a line check airman for
a major US airline. He started his
flying career as a bush pilot in Alaska, which later led to a job as a pilot
for Trans World Airlines. He spent four
years with TWA before he landed his dream job, working for the airline he flies
for today.
Bob
was born in Southern California and attended high school there before heading
to Arizona for college. After graduating
from Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University, he moved to Alaska when he got his
first flying job as a bush pilot. During
his time in Alaska, Bob first tried his hand at writing, penning a memoir on
his experiences flying Cessnas in the untamed Alaskan wilderness.
All throughout his flying
career, Bob continued to write. He
penned several (unpublished) manuscripts.
It was after Bob's completion of Claus: The Untold Story of Kris
Kringle, that he decided to work with his younger sister (and editor), Taylor
Brantner, on cleaning up the story until it was fit for publication. After some success with Claus, Bob dug out
his previously edited (however, unpublished) manuscript of Five Hundred
Feet. He teamed again with Taylor and
re-edited the material.
Bob is a certificated
Airline Transport Pilot and is type rated in the Beech 1900, Boeing 737, 757,
767, Airbus A320 and the DC-9. He is
also a rated Flight Engineer. He also holds
a commercial sea plane rating that he obtained in his time in Alaska.
Five
Hundred Feet Above Alaska is Bob's third published book. He wrote the afore mentioned Claus, as well
as My Year as an Alaskan Bush Pilot, a non-fiction account of some of his
experiences flying in "The Last Frontier."
Bob is married to Kelly Kaczka Brantner and
they have one daughter, Madison, and a dog, Fergus. They live just outside of Annapolis,
Maryland.
Wednesday, May 1, 2019
RABT presents... UNBREAKABLE DARKNESS by L.M. Preston - EXCERPT + GIVEAWAY!
Book
1.5 in The Vigilant Series
YA/Urban
Fantasy
Date
Published: May 5th, 2018
Dexter
never looked for trouble, it finds him. Moving to a small city from New York
wasn’t his idea of an improvement. His plans to make his dreams of being
groomed as a pro football running back ended the moment his father uprooted his
family. Day one, he landed in jail without bail and realized too late that his
father made a deal to get him out, one that would change his life, and put his
family forever in danger. Unfortunately, finding love always happens at the
worst possible time. Dexter didn’t realize that love could also kill. Again,
trouble, it finds him, but this time he’d face it – head on, and hope he
survives. Prequel to Scepter of Fire Book 2 in The Vigilant Series.
Grab a copy!
Grab a copy!
Insatiable
Darkness - Book 0
Caged
Fire - Book 1
Unbreakable
Darkness –Book 1.5
Scepter
of Fire - Book 2
Excerpt
“Well,
I hate to do this, but I am willing to let him go, with no charges if you can
convince him to be an informant for me.”
“Excuse
me?” Dex’s father responded, irritated.
“I
know why you are here. Also, who you are working with and you are playing a dangerous
game. I will stay out of that, but, your son is in the position to shed some
light on this case and help your cause. There is something going on with the
sports teams at that school. Kids going missing at the top of their prime, it’s
frustrating we don’t know why.”
“I
understand, but why would I put my son in danger to get you your answers?”
“Because
it may help you get the answers you seek…for The Vigilant,” Detective Whalen
whispered when he mentioned the last word.
“I’m
not doing that. Would you put your kid in that kind of danger?”
“I’ve
tried, but my son wasn’t good enough to be recruited by the elite on the team.
He’s into other things, playing the guitar in a band. The Soul warriors have to
be selected, it’s a process. Your son, he’s got what they are looking for, he’s
strong, a bit impulsive, a fighter and not a detective’s son.”
Dex
almost didn’t catch it, but had leaned in to hear every bit of their
conversation.
“How
about this, you put things in motion, my son doesn’t know he may be exposed to
the information you seek. Let things play out, then if you need to question
him, I’ll make sure he’s available for that.”
There
was a pause of silence, “That’s fair and a good approach. The less he knows,
the more likely he will be exposed too. You’ve got a deal.”
“And
detective, don’t ever mention The Vigilant in my presence again. You can get my
family and I killed if you do, and I fought too damned hard to be able to live
to risk someone putting me and mine in danger.”
“Understood.”
Dex
heard a slapping of hands and supposed they were shaking hands.
“Now,
detective, can I see my son?”
About the Author
L.M.
Preston, a native of Washington, DC. An avid reader, she loved to create poetry
and short-stories as a young girl. She is an author, an engineer, a professor,
a mother and a wife. Her passion for writing and helping others to see their
potential through her stories and encouragement has been her life's greatest
adventures. She loves to write while on the porch watching her kids play or
when she is traveling, which is another passion that encouraged her writing.
Saturday, April 13, 2019
RABT presents... TICK COOPER by John Vance
Tick Cooper
by
John Vance
YA & Adult Historical Fiction
Publisher: Black Opal Books
“I swear by everything I ever owned that my adventure will be the honest truth—even if I had to tell a few lies along the way to get to the meaning of that truth.” So promises Tick Cooper, a twelve year old Ohio boy who’s about to accompany his Uncle Ned down the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers to New Orleans. It’s the autumn of 1860, right before the election that will send Abraham Lincoln to the White House. With his mother deceased and his father having deserted him for the chance of gold in California, Tick has been most fortunate to receive the care and love of his father’s older brother and his wife—Aunt Clara. Although she has recently passed away, she and Uncle Ned have educated the boy about living a good and proper life. But Tick hasn’t had much of a chance to put what he’s learned into practice—nor to face the moral challenges every young person will face as he or she grows up. But the river journey will provide plenty of those experiences and tests of character. Yet, reaching New Orleans does not conclude the lessons and challenges, for there Tick witnesses a slave auction, and on the block is a thirteen-year-old freed black girl named Clarissa, whom Tick had briefly met in Ohio. Now Tick faces his most significant challenge. Can he help get Clarissa back to Ohio all the way from New Orleans?
EXCERPT
There I was jumping from the top of one tree to another. It wasn’t exactly as if I was flying, because I had to land on the top branch of each tree, but it sure felt like flying. Geese were following me and honking away like they were trying to warn me about something. But when I decided to forget about the tree tops and just fly, I fell hard to the ground thirty feet below and started rolling down the side of a hill while I was hiding my face in a pillow. I kept feeling the feathers from the goose down pillow sticking out and poking my cheeks and the side of my neck. Try as I might, I couldn’t pull that pillow off my face and it got to be stained with the blood coming out of me. But I kept rolling and rolling until I was stopped by something firm but soft. But by the time I finally pulled the pillow away from my face to see what or who had stopped me, I woke up and I never found out. That happens to me in dreams a lot. Wish it didn’t, though. What woke me up was my Uncle Ned telling me it was time to leave our house and get on the train to Cincinnati where we would get aboard the steamboat the St. Paul and head down to New Orleans. I was about to leave on the greatest adventure of my life. I swear by everything I ever owned that it will be the honest truth—even if I had to tell a few lies along the way to get to the meaning of that truth. Uncle Ned shouted from the front porch of our house in Oxford, Ohio, “Time to catch the train, Tick.” That’s my name—Tick—Tick Cooper. Or what they’ve always called me anyways. Uncle Ned said I’d always remember this day as long as I lived, but I still wrote it down when we got on the train in Hamilton so I’d be sure never to forget— “November the 1st, 1860.” We would ride some thirty-five miles to Cincinnati, the 2 largest city in the whole state. I’d a been on the train only once before—when the railway first opened, when I was six. But what gets a boy excited when he’s six and what gets him excited at twelve are quite different things—so this time I acted all grown up like I’d ridden the railroad every week. I didn’t jump around and bother Uncle Ned the way I did the first time. Even so, it was still pretty special chugging along in such high style. Nothing much happened on the train for the first twenty miles or so, but two more passengers got on and right afterward I heard some commotion going on in front of where we were sitting. “I say that’s my seat you’re sitting in. Get out of it now.” The man who said that was an elderly gent who looked like he had gotten into many tough scrapes in his life. He had long white hair and side whiskers, but what I grabbed my attention most was his scarred-up face. It looked like someone had dug trenches on his cheeks and above his right eye. And he seemed much bigger and stronger than men as old as he was. He was talking to a boy who looked younger than me—maybe nine or ten. The boy was in the seat by himself and was just too scared to say anything back. “You had better come up with a good reason why you took my seat or I’ll rip your nose right off your face, boy.” Because Uncle Ned had fallen asleep, it was up to me to do something. I just had to be sure that boy kept his nose on where it was, so I ran up to the man. “Excuse me, mister. My brother here is in the wrong seat. Come on, Ben. Your seat is back with us.” That boy almost flew out of the seat and headed to the back of the train car. “Excuse my brother, mister. He doesn’t hear well and sometimes I have to tell him things twice.” I turned and walked back to my seat, expecting that that white-haired old devil would 3 grab me and try to take my nose off. But he didn’t say or do anything. He just grunted and sat in the seat I guess he always sat in when he rode on that train. I found out that Ben’s real name was Peter Butler and that he was put on the train by his grandpap so he could take a steamboat from Cincinnati to Pittsburgh, where his mother, father, and baby sister had just settled in a house. I told him I’d look out for him until we reached Cincinnati, where his grandpap’s brother lived and would take him in for the night. We talked about the man with the scars on his face—I mean we talked softly so we wouldn’t wake Uncle Ned or let that old buzzard hear us. I told Peter that some folks believe they really own whatever they use often—cups, chairs, and such--and that it’s easy for someone big to get what they want from someone smaller, who can’t do anything about it. And if that big someone is also real ugly, it’s all the easier. When I told Peter my name, he wanted to know if I was born with it. I told him that when I was born my father named me John Polk Cooper, but those first two names never really suited me much. It was Aunt Clara who first called me “Tick” because when I was a baby I used to burrow into the blanket like a tick into a dog’s back. But the name really stuck when I started running around and hiding in bushes, old dead trees, and holes in the ground. I also like the sound of Tick Cooper better than John Cooper or John Polk Cooper any day of the week. One of my teachers said that Tick Cooper wasn’t as easy to pronounce as John or John Polk Cooper, because the first name ended with a “k” sound and the second name began with the same sound. But she was educated and I guess those things matter to those kinds of folks. Ben said that Polk was a funny name to be stuck with—and it was, but from what Uncle Ned told me I got my middle name because of the then president of the United States, James Polk, who they say kicked the Mexicans out of Texas and took it for the 4 United States. Uncle Ned said that my father thought Polk did the right thing, but from what Uncle Ned also told me, my father once shot a man in the leg who claimed that the twelve feet at the very back of my father’s land rightfully belonged to him. They say the man showed my father the papers, but my father shot him anyways, saying that it was the law that those who live on the land and cultivate it have all right to it. I guess old President Polk never heard of that law when he took Texas. So since I was born on March 3, 1848, I got stuck with a Polk between my first and last names. If I was born three years ago my name would have been John Buchanan Cooper, which was wore then the name I had. As Aunt Clara used to say, “Thank heaven for small favors.” When the train stopped in Cincinnati, we waited until the foul-looking man left the train car before we did. Uncle Ned woke up and finally met Peter, who thanked me for helping him and waited until he saw his grandpap’s brother before getting off the train. I wished he was going to New Orleans instead of Pittsburgh, because I knew I’d never see him again, but my Aunt Clara used to say that the older you get the more often folks would come in and then out of your life—sometimes on the very same day. Aunt Clara. I guess I forgot to say that she was Uncle Ned’s wife and was always like a mother to me, since my own mother died when I wasn’t yet two years old. I’m still very sad that Aunt Clara got real sick and died a few months back. The day before we left Oxford, we went to see her grave at the Old Yard Cemetery. Uncle Ned had been going there every week since she died, but he never made me go with him. I just did it on my own every few weeks or so, but it was more to be with Uncle Ned because I really wanted to go. Not that I’m afraid to visit the graves of all those dead people. I’ve been there after the sun went down with three of my friends and was the very last to run out of there, which won me the wool cap we found snagged on a tree limb the day before. 5 Anyway--at her grave, Uncle Ned told Aunt Clara that he’d be going away for a spell and he’d be thinking of her all the time. He also told her that he’d be taking me with him. She was so good to me—she really was. As soon as we got off the train, we heard a noise on the wooden platform—a kind of “ker-thump” every several second or so, so we looked around and saw a man who looked like he hadn’t shaved his whiskers in a hundred years limping along with a wooden crutch under his arm, which he dragged as he took a step with his good leg. Good leg? I should have said only leg! Uncle Ned reached in his pocket for a coin or two, which he liked to do whenever he saw someone who couldn’t walk or see too well. So I reached in mine and pulled out one of my two new Indian head pennies. My other one was back in my room at home, but I always carried one of them with me for good luck. But when I looked at the coin, I wanted to think that Uncle Ned’s contribution would be enough that the one-legged old soul wouldn’t hold it against me if I jammed my lucky coin back in my pocket. I sure didn’t want to be without luck on my grand adventure to New Orleans. But I didn’t think or act fast enough because the next thing I knew I had put my Indian head penny in the man’s hand. He closed his old fist around it, and I felt like I dropped my hunting rifle down a well. My stomach became as heavy as a cannon ball, and my throat felt as dry as if I had swallowed a campfire. Being charitable isn’t always “its own reward,” as Aunt Clara used to say. The poor man had only limped about ten feet away when two men in fancy clothes, with new top hats and walking sticks came up behind him and started laughing and pointing at his crutch. I guess these were men because they were dressed in all high fancy, but they acted like boys not much older than me. The one in the striped pants took his walking stick and swung it like he was chopping at a low limb and knocked the 6 crutch out from under the old man, who fell to the platform before I could take get close enough to break his fall. Those two dandified gents both burst out laughing as the old man let out one of them painful old man’s screeches, with a whistling sound—probably because he lacked some front teeth. The coins he had gotten from me, Uncle Ned, and some other kindly folks were scattered all over the platform. And then you know what those two popinjays did? They threw down several coins themselves! I couldn’t believe it. I guess they paid for the right to hurt the old man. Or maybe they did it to make sure their consciences wouldn’t bother them none. Uncle Ned told me once that some folks believe they can make up for their being cruel and thoughtless by giving money. And these two gents were nothing compared to what I’d see later on my adventure. But I’m running ahead of myself. When I went over to help up the old man, I saw my Indian head penny about six feet away, picking up the bright sunshine, which made it sparkle. When I got the crutch situated under the old man’s arm, I walked over and picked up the coin. I was afraid someone else would take it and use it to buy something useless. No. Now wait. That’s not all of it. I better come clean or this tale isn’t going to be worth you’re taking the time to read it if I don’t. To tell the honest truth, I picked up the coin mostly because I wanted to think more about his need for it, since four other folks gave the old man more money. I picked up my coin as the lame old man was walking away with the rest of the money that someone had picked up from the platform, along with the new coins just placed in his hand. I knew he wouldn’t miss my Indian head penny—not one bit--and seeing that it and the other penny back home were gifts from my Uncle Ned, I decided to put the penny back in my pocket. For about a second. I caught up with the old man and gave him my good-luck penny for a second time. Maybe I was wrong, but I just felt he needed the good luck 7 much more than I did. Then I heard Uncle Ned calling me, and that was the last I saw of my penny and the old man. But not the last I’d see of those two high-hatted, dandypants scoundrels who knocked the old man down.
About the Author
During his career as Professor of English at the University of Georgia, John Vance was the author of six books and numerous articles devoted to literary biography and criticism. He also began indulging his love of theater as actor, director, and playwright, with thirty-five of his plays staged. Now he has turned exclusively to fiction, and is the author of fourteen novels, including the humorous memoir Setting Sail for Golden Harbor and the recently BookBub featured In Mind of the Vampire. He lives in Athens, Georgia with his wife Susan.
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