Don't Talk to Strangers

This book grabbed me and wouldn't let go. Sure, it was a rainy day but I had plans to do some writing of my own. I'd started reading it late one night -- because I always read before going to sleep -- and I didn't want to stop. Finally my eyes were telling me they needed rest  so I reluctantly set the book aside.

The next morning, I told myself, 'just one chapter. ' And managed to get my morning chores done before falling back into the world of wise-cracking, flawed, gutsy Keye Street -- former FBI profiler, current private eye. 

This is the third in a series by Amanda Kyle Williams but it absolutely works as a standalone.  Keye is called to help a small town sheriff's office in the search for the abductor and murderer of two girls -- the sheriff is almost too nice and too good-looking to be true but others in his office resent Keye's 'intrusion' to their territory and are not so welcoming.

It's a thriller and a classic who-done-it -- I was reading carefully, looking for clues -- is this a red herring? why did that guy do that? oh, this must be the one!  -- and ultimately I was fooled.  Fooled good. But it felt fair -- the clues had been there all along. . . 

Amanda is one of Kate Miciak's authors and I wrote about her first book HERE when Kate sent me a copy to blurb. But I bought this book on my own because I wanted to see what Keye was up to. Wow and double wow! 

I highly recommend this book --  lots of small town ambiance (but it's NOT a cozy,) fascinating fully drawn characters,  really wonderful sly humor, and a twisty plot that will keep you guessing . . . and reading on and on, if you're anything like me.

Check out Amanda's web site HERE for more about Don't Talk to Strangers. 

Sunshine and Hummers

 After several days of beautiful soaking rain and blissfully cool temperatures, it was nice to see the sun again and snap a few pictures before the clouds rolled in again. Mid-July is normally our hottest time and this respite has been glorious.

What Is It?

At Wildacres I found this mysterious arrangement at the base of a tree in the parking lot.

My first thought was of the Yunwi Tsundi -- the Cherokee Little People I've written of before. 

Then I decided it might be a charm of the sort my friend Byron Ballard (Asheville's Village Witch) works. The wrapped sticks could be prayer sticks; the pretty rocks, barred off by twigs, could represent wishes being kept safe . . .

What do you think?

Wordless

The Narrow Fellow

I was out back planting a hosta when this narrow fellow (as Emily Dickinson called a snake in one of her poems) came from somewhere below the house, and climbed onto the rock wall. I hurried inside to get my camera  . . .

He seemed to have a mission and slid quickly along the wall . . .

He (or she) is a black rat snake, close to six feet long. We are happy to have these critters around to deal with rodents . . . but would prefer they stayed out of the chicken house. (They are fond of eggs too.)  

Completely ignoring the paparazzi, snake keeps going. . .

A beautiful blue tinge to the black . . .

Almost at the other end of the house now, I decide that snake is probably heading for the green house. We often find shed snakeskins in there.  

A snake with a plan . . .

Just keep going . . . 

Turn left at the gate . . .

Ooze down . . .

A quick slide across the grass and there's the greenhouse . . .

I'd weeded this bed just the day before and while I really like these snakes, I prefer not to put an unsuspecting hand on one. . .

Where is snake? There on the window sill, looking for a way in . . .

And, thanks to a tear in the screen, snake is in. . .

The greenhouse is mostly empty of plants now . . .

Sometimes these snakes twine themselves through the trellis/shelf to remove their old skins . . . 

But this snake has something else in mind . . .

Into a hole in the wall he goes. It's probably a mouse hole and I expect that snake will wreak havoc among the mice.

I just need to remind John to keep the door that leads from his computer room to the greenhouse closed.

Where the Bee Sucks . . .

Accidental Birds of the Carolinas

 

One of the pleasures of Wildacres is hearing fellow faculty members read from their work. Marjorie Hudson's beautiful reading of  "New World Testament" convinced me that I needed her short story collection . . . as if the title and cover art hadn't already been singing their siren song.

The 'accidental birds' referred to are the newcomers to the Carolinas -- whether today or in 1720.  The stories, rich in detail, characterization, and poetic imagery, put me in mind of Lee Smith, of Anne Tyler, of Tony Earley . . . but why should I natter on? Suffice it to say, I really loved these stories and recommend them to you.

Below is more praise plus a link to the title story. Just read it

STORIES

PEN/Hemingway Honorable MentionNovello Literary Award Finalist
Perpetual Folly’s 2011 Best Story Collection of the Year and SIBA Nominee, Best Short Fiction

“Like novels in nutshells, Alice Munro style”–Doris Betts

“Magical scenes, magical effects, vivid dreams, mysterious events. Birds sing through several stories, and by the end of the novella, there’s been a symphony of mockingbirds, whippoorwills, sparrows, frogs, dogs, bees, butterflies and more. Each lost soul connect to the natural world for healing and solace.”
– Deirdre Parker Smith, Salisbury Post

In Hudson’s fictional Ambler County, some of the characters know each other well, some drive by and wave, and some pass unaware they are connected by place and time. Hudson has captured the moment when rural life was still dominant in the Carolinas and able to charm a stranger into staying.Like birds blown off course in a storm, landing in an unfamiliar country, the characters in these stories need a place to roost, somewhere to settle long enough to learn the secrets of their own hearts.

• Read the title story, published in The Literarian at the Center for Fiction

Praise for Accidental Birds:

““Here is a field guide to the human species in transition….The three longest of these splendid stories are like novels in nutshells, Alice Munro style”–Doris Betts, author of Souls Raised from the Dead

“For any Southerner who’s ever wondered what it’s like to be a Yankee transplant, read Accidental Birds of the Carolinas… –  read more at North Carolina Literary Review Online, No. 21

“Hudson must believe in magic, and uses it in her writing, creating magical scenes, magical effects, vivid dreams, mysterious events,” says Deirdre Parker Smith of the Salisbury Post. “Birds sing through several stories, and by the end of the novella, there’s been a symphony of mockingbirds, whippoorwills, sparrows, frogs, dogs, bees, butterflies and more. Each lost soul connects to the natural world for healing and solace.”

“They arrived by Mustang, by marriage, by hitchhiking. The characters in Marjorie Hudson’s story collection, Accidental Birds of the Carolinas, have strayed — like vagrant birds — from familiar territory to reach a transfiguring moment in their lives. . . . Many of Hudson’s narratives explore themes of family — found, invented or inherited — navigating the often suffocating nature of belonging, or the catastrophes of reinvention.” — Kathryn Savage, Minneapolis-St. Paul Star-Tribune