Mysteries? Yes, and Love Stories!

  

One of my two current series, the Father Hardy Alaska Mystery series, is a mystery series. Duh. More accurately, it's a historical mystery series, set in the long-ago 1950s. 

Yes, I know, long ago is in the eye of the beholder. I was just reading about a model wearing a vintage Versace dress that is as old as she is. I might have been impressed except that she was born in 1994. I have t-shirts that old but don't get the headlines. 

Here's the thing. I write mysteries, but they are also love stories.

In the Hardy series, I have two characters, with a few 'miles' on them. They've been around. This is not fresh puppy dog love. These aren't young Romeo and Juliet first-timers, beautiful and memorable simply because they're new.

Hardy and Evie are slightly middle-aged lovers, with scars. He was married, loved his dead wife so terribly that she literally haunts him. She was a scrappy survivor of a bunch of bad stuff, an institutional orphan from the mission school and a wild child who lived to grow up. 

And they are not the same race. It's not such a big deal now as it was when the stories are set, in the 1950s. As a boy in the village, then for several years a teenager in the freedom-rider mid-south, I remember. I remember the gossip and the shunning, the flame-gutted bus.

Now, to make matters more complicated, I've just finished book 6 in the Hardy series and it won't surprise any regular reader to learn they get married, right at the front of the book. You know what that usually means in a mystery series: She's about to die tragically, or the series is about to disappear. Spoiler alert: no. 

If you haven't read a Hardy mystery, quarantine goes a lot smoother with good books. Pick up "Indecent Exposure," first in the series. You can order through any book store, though it's quickest and easiest from Amazon. And then just start reading. As C.S. Lewis wrote, "Come further up and further in."

We'll go together. 

Secret Forts and a Dead Man

I’m pretty sure there’s a verse in the bible that refers to me and my brothers, Michael and Joel, and our Nenana friends. It reads: “You will know them by their forts,” and to that I would add, secret forts, because secret is always the better part of it. Maybe the best part.

Not long ago, I got reacquainted with one of those old friends, George Albert, from the 1950s. He wasn’t a kid I played with a lot; I think he was younger. But he got me right away with this opener: “remember when we built the fort behind the church?”

You darn betcha. I remember every fort I ever built.

We built one that was three or four stories up three trees. It was a masterpiece. I think that’s the one George remembers. But we built another one out of logs at the back of that same lot. The second one stood only about four feet tall made of horizontal logs — okay, poles. And it turned out to be even better than the tall one.

We put a lot of thought into the secret part of it. We built it near the road but slightly back in the brush. We covered the scrap-board roof with whatever, and then over that a layer of leaves and sticks for cammo. We hadn’t mastered doors and windows in a ‘log’ structure, which didn’t matter. The gaps between the poles were big enough to throw a cat through. So, we dug a low spot, what we called a tunnel, to slide in and out on our bellies

It was the most secret fort you’ve ever seen, or not seen.

One morning, the fort is finished and we’re in there, not being seen by anybody. Which by itself is pretty boring. The adventure begins when a pickup truck stops about forty feet away. We’re all over this: the chance to spy!

There had been four people crowded into the cab, and two men and a woman come tumbling out. They are drunk. I now know they were too insanely drunk to be out driving around. I didn’t think about that then. Instead I thought about what they thought about, which was that one of them might be dead.

Our gang went from secret spying to active participants in seconds, crowding around for a better look. I got to give it to the guy in the cab, he looked sincerely dead. If he were in Hollywood, trying out for the part of ‘the dead guy,’ I have no doubts he’d have it.

Somehow, his three drunk friends, have learned that they can determine life or death for certain, with a mirror.

I am all over this, Jonny-to-the-rescue, instantly off running across the block at top speed because I know where there’s a mirror. I take the short cut through the woods, leaping downed logs, muddy pits, constantly alert for dangers — just in case there are any. In less than sixty seconds, I’m rifling my mother’s purse for her compact.

“What are you doing in my purse?” Comes her voice, from the kitchen.

“I’m borrowing your mirror.”

“What do you need my mirror for?”

“Got to figure out if a guy is dead.”

“Oh,” she says. “Okay,” and I heard her put something in the oven.

Then I’m back across the block, dodging and hurtling things. In my mind I’m Red Grange, The Galloping Ghost, scattering defenders down the backfield. I’m Brit runner, Roger Bannister, breaking the four. I’m Tonto or Cochise streaking across country too rough for U.S. Cavalry horses to follow. And in under two minutes, I’m back with the holy mirror.

These three, staggering and muttering, receive the mirror gravely. They look at each other, nodding. This is serious stuff and they know it. My brothers and I, along with our friends crowd closer. Mostly because, if they drop that mirror, which seems likely, one of us must catch it if we’re ever gonna know if this guy is dead.

The moment is at hand. One of them, the leader I suppose, takes the mirror, huffs on it, his breath nearly blacking me out. I’m surprised the alcohol fumes didn’t melt the plastic — and he buffs the glass on his sleeve. Then, we all hold our breath as he positions the mirror above the guy’s wrist.

“Yep,” he said, “dead.”

As it turned out, the guy was dead. Not that they could tell. I’ve never forgotten the adventure of that secret fort. And it makes me sincerely happy to get reacquainted with George Albert after more than fifty years, and to know that he agrees. “Remember when we built that fort behind the church?” You darn betcha. I remember.

The Bible says it and it’s good enough for me: “You will know them by their forts.”

There's no wormhole for writers

I have this sneaking suspicion. 

On the surface, the world invites and encourages people to be writers. "You can do this." We all say it to people, in person or in articles meant to be helpful. And yes, I think it's mostly true.

There are lots of things you can buy to help you. From proofreaders or proofreading programs, on through to the absolute best SEO search terms and people to manage PR. 

We all imagine that we are good enough, our material is interesting and desirable and the world is waiting. 

It isn't. 

We think there's a wormhole. 

We think there's a way around the huddled mass of other writers. A shortcut. It may be the myth of getting an agent or locking on with one of the big five publishers. And it does happen. My talented and hard-working facebook friend Anna Quinn slam-dunked all those things a couple of years ago with her very well-reviewed book, "The Night Child." Check it out. 

Mostly it doesn't. 

There isn't a short cut. Things that claim to be shortcuts turn out to be entire other journeys that a writer never wanted to take. The Facebook journey, the Instagram or Twitter journey, the blog journey. Give your life over to mastery of these other things in a desperate attempt to succeed at what you originally wanted to do, write the damn book. 

The Encouragement part

Here's the deal. Writers need to write. They need to be their best, do their best. And they also need, patiently and systematically, to push their books in front of potential readers and reviews. Amazon currently lists 32.8 million books. It's a lottery that, like most lotteries, most of us will never jackpot.

But there are smaller prizes along the way, and these are where we need to focus. The letter that says, "I couldn't go bed without finishing your book." That's one of my favorites. Or from the reading teacher who says her reluctant readers  sneaked to read ahead. Or when one of my readers raves to a friend or librarian about my book. That's the greatest! 

But this is about more than (just) feeling good. I want to make some money, dammit, even if it's not a lot. I recognize money. It has meaning in my life. I get it!

So, on the more material plane, the fact that I can turn selling two or five or even ten books a month into selling twenty, twenty five or even thirty. And forty is out there!

It's developing your own tricks to get ahead, and then having them work. For example, I go to lists of books in my category, that I should be on but am not, and I write to them and say, "Hey, consider me for your list." If they do, and I get on, then every one of their readers becomes my potential reader. How great is that? And it's free.

What's the lesson for writers? It's something like Garrison Keillor's famous sign off, "Be well, do good work, and keep in touch." 

To that I would add "All ahead, full—faithfully, patiently... maybe occasionally joyfully." 

Going back to the place you can't go back to.

I get a visceral tug from this photo. Always.

It was taken in Nenana Alaska in the late 1950s or early 1960s, on a winter day with the sun already sinking, probably about three-thirty or four in the afternoon.

There's something about it that always sort of punches me.

Obviously, today I'm an adult, author of 12+ books living in western Oregon. But on that day, I was probably in grade six or seven, and most likely in that house behind the church when the picture was taken.

I can see myself there, feel myself in those rooms. They smell like supper coming on, probably coffee perking, my dad's cigarette. They sound like Dad's typewriter clatter, my brothers grexing, my sister making baby noises, my mom with the radio on or listening to Broadway music on the tweedy Webcore phonograph.

Who took it? I don't know. I found it on the Alaska Digital Archives site, which I highly recommend.

I've written eight books that take place in or near Nenana and I spend a lot of mental time back there. Homesickness? I don't think so. More like this song snippet from Cheryl Wheeler.

Simply, I know this town.

• Well, I know these streets and these backyards
• This barn that's fallin' down
• We come to where they're building now
• And ride our bikes around.
•  
• You think I'm just a little kid
• Some trouble on the way
• Well I knew that place before you did
• Is all I've got to say.
•  
• (Chorus)
• I'm only walkin' through these streets and all around
• I'm only walkin' I know this town

Cheryl Wheeler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iYkOn_jZbyY

I grew up in Nenana Alaska

I grew up in Nenana Alaska. Scenes like this one, of the namesake river steamer "Nenana," live on in my mind. 

I write two novel series, The Father Hardy Alaska Mystery series (adults) and the Cheechako series (middle-grades and up) that take place in versions of this town, and—in my mind at least—among these people.

Nenana in the 1950s was like other towns in the US in the 1920s or '30s. There was no police force, no firefighters. My father, all his life had a scar on his shin where he turned out to fight a Nenana fire and a hose broke loose, drenching him at twenty below, and ripping open his leg. He stumbled to the nearest house, freezing, and of course they took him in.

Why write so much about Nenana? It was rough and raw in its way, but absolutely real. And everybody I still know who lived there, quite a few of them reading this, knows they have that old and genuine Alaska spirit in them. They read the books and tell me, "I'd forgotten that," or "you nailed it," or ... "Yeah, it really was that cold."

I love to go back to those dusty streets in my memory, and the river, to recreate the mood and the tone of a place that is vastly changed, and take readers along for the ride.

Thanks to you all for coming along and telling me how much you enjoy the ride.

HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE TO WRITE A BOOK?

I'm between books now.

Frankly, it feels weird. This is the first time in about six years I haven't been getting up early, five or six days a week, to "get in my pages." 

No, I haven't run out of ideas. On the contrary, even when I stop writing, the episodes keep playing in my mind. I know there are writers who anguish over their pages and the occasional dry spell. I guess I fall into the storyteller category, if there is such a thing. My characters talk to me and to each other whether I'm writing or not. I know enough to pay attention. 

The big question, when I do get back on the path, is what to write? I have no shortage of
possibilities.

Probably the top contender for next book is a fourth Cheeckako book... yes, I do read my mail. I realize I'm overdo with that one as readers and teachers have pointed our. Here's what I know about it. It will be back in Southeast Alaska, near Sitka, with the cast of characters that we last saw in "Float Monkeys." So plenty of boat and airplane action... and a treasure ship!

Due out... soon!

I am just about to publish... yes, quite a bit delayed, the fifth book in the Father Hardy Alaska Mystery Series. It's called "Without a Prayer." 

Billie, my editor, says the next book out will be a standalone book for middle-grades (like my Cheechako series) that takes place in the Pacific Northwest, instead of Alaska. It's called "Raft." Below is a rough comp of the cover. 

"Raft" is about a boy who can't read, but manages to fake his way through school with the help of his good friend Ozzie ... who dies suddenly. So in one stroke he's lost his best friend and his only way of coping with the world. What to do? Well, that's what the book is about. 

I'm already blocking out Hardy six. No firm title. Episodes are already playing in my brain. Will they finally get married in this one? Maybe. I know but I'm not telling.

Pick up books for summer reading!

Whether for yourself or for kids and grandkids, there's nothing like a book while you're waiting for the ferry, or the airplane, or just sitting in the sun or sand and want to escape. I would be delighted if you'd take one of my mysteries or adventure stories along, and even more delighted to receive a review/rating on the Amazon site when you finish. If you like it, I'd love to hear. If you didn't like it, I want to hear that, too. 

In the meantime, thanks for buying and reading my books, those of you that write to me, I love hearing from you. Keep it up. 

Make sure gift-giving for young children includes a book!

Granddaughter, Ava, reading with DIL, Rachel. 

A child is never too young to benefit from books and being read to. They love the exclusive time to sit with you, to have all of your attention. And even beyond the story or rhyme you're reading, they love other things you make up, like counting objects on the page, or "finding the bunny." 

"... reading with your children gives them critical skills for when they start to read themselves."

1. It is important that children learn to follow words across the page from left to right.

2.  Learn to  turn pages, which are pre-reading skills that benefit children and help them to become better readers later on. 

3. Children who enjoy reading not only do better in language and literacy subjects, but in all of the different subjects as well.

Interested? To learn more, check this link: https://bilingualkidspot.com/2017/10/19/benefits-importance-reading-young-children/

I wanted to write a Southeast Alaska Christmas story.

More than gifts and glitter

I wanted to write a Christmas story that had little or nothing to do with Christmas trees and glitter. And I was hoping to write a story that the reader could follow along, with eyes open, and be surprised. And as long as I was hoping, yes, I wanted it to be just a bit spooky. 

Was I successful? See for yourself. It's a one-sitting read, truly a short story. So you don't have to be a dedicated reader to make it to the other side.

I did some of my growing up near Sitka, in Southeast Alaska. It's not cold there, or snowy, as in more northern Alaska. There are no dogsleds. It's a maritime climate, salt water and rain, and lots of little islands that feel pretty desolate in winter. So yes, that's where I set my story.

Mom didn't care for the sex stuff

I love reviews. It makes a dialogue of what I do, rather than a monologue... just me talking. A writer takes chances with stories, and doesn't really know if those chances work, if they pay off, until the reviews start. 

I already know my stories are "Nice." My mom is a reader. Except for the 4th Father Hardy. Mom liked all of it but the "sex stuff." Oh well. 

You're safe from "sex stuff" in "The Christmas Skiff." Yes, Mom, I resisted. And I'd love to hear anything you thought about the tale. Complaints welcome.

Check this recent review... 

"I bought "The Christmas Skiff" about 9 months ago, after Christmas. I remembered how much joy it had given me when I first read it, and so I decided to read it again, and I wasn't disappointed at all. It's a sort-of coming of age story, with Gabrielle learning that things are not always as they seem, and that life is about love, hope, and even magic, at times.

Jonathan has a way of writing that makes you feel as if you're a part of the story - not just reading about it. This should be on the Christmas gift list for all young people."

And thank you, Karen D.


"The Christmas Skiff" on Amazon

Would you write just one sentence for a book you liked?

I need your review!

In the writer world, reviews have real weight. Commercial reviewers, the big dogs, along with magazines and radio, won't even consider reviewing a book if a whole bunch of you haven't already done so.

So if you've read one of my books—I have seven published—I would love for you to go online and post your review on Amazon. It can be as simple as just one sentence about why you liked—or maybe didn't like—the book. And then you also chose a number of stars to rate it. 

Some people don't like to post a review if they can't award the book all five stars. It doesn't matter. If you only liked it three star's worth, I'm okay with that, especially if you can tell me what didn't work for you. Every book is it's own set of lessons for me to learn, and I'm happy to.

My goal is to be the best writer I can be and I appreciate your help. 

Interested in Writers and Writing? Here I am on the Radio!

Jonathan Stratman Radio Interview

How the Magic Happens

This week I taped a radio interview 

I was interviewed for radio this week by Sheila Bender, poet, author and accomplished writing instructor. It's a real treat for a writer to be interview by a writer. 

The questions were different from those often asked. She wanted to know HOW I do what I do. Process questions. I had to actually think about the answers. 

With my eighth novel, "Raft," in final edit, my ninth, "Without a Prayer," in the final pages, I spend most of my time writing and thinking about storylines and character arcs. In other words, DOING rather than thinking about how I do. That's what she wanted her listeners to hear. 

For example, my first paid, published work was short stories in CRICKET Magazine, way back in the '70s. In a world that didn't pay much for writing, I got twenty-five cents a word—a fabulous sum— and presentation with fabulous illustrators. It was heaven. 

It was a CRICKET editor who said of one of my stories, "This should be a book." 

"Great!" I thought. But for twenty years, that's as far as it went. I had no idea now to make that leap.

I started out writing short

I wrote songs in high school, and my first college-published work was poetry. So, I could tell the whole story in sixteen or twenty lines. A short story, to me, was an opus.

Sheila asked me, how did I get from the short story to writing a whole book. I heard myself saying, I wrote one line and then the next. Which is absolutely true. 

She also pointed out to me the number of times I mentioned walking as part of my process. Walking, with my brain in neutral, often results in me coming home say to my wife ... "I just figured out ... " whatever it is. 

It happens to me driving, too, on longer trips. Out of the blue ... I mean really, I didn't even know I was thinking about it, I say to Billie, "Oh, I get it!" Because suddenly I do. 

Writer's block? 

We interviewed Jane Yolen years ago. Said she never had writer's block because she always had multiple projects going. If one stuck, she went on to the next. 

Judy Jance told us she took a shower when she got hung up. That works! Something about negative ions from falling water and its effect on the brain. 

The thing that works for me, is simply remembering that the main magic in writing is the seat in the chair. As an ad writer for thirty years, I faced an empty page every day and got paid for filling it with real ideas. I built up that muscle. 

According to Billie, here's when it changed

Billie has known me since high school, though with a twenty year break. She's seen me work from early. It was she that pointed out I made the leap from short story to novel when I began getting up at six, nearly every morning of the year, to do nothing but write. 

Yes, as writer MacKinlay Kantor observed years ago, I ... "put my butt in the chair." I know, it doesn't sound very magical. But if you've wanted to write or something similar, I'm here to tell you. 

It's how the magic happens.  

What the heck is a middle-grade book and who reads 'em?

Available in print, audio, or e-book

The Answers might surprise you. 

The odd middle child in youth books is the middle-grade book. In my head, I'm writing for a reader between the ages of 10 and fourteen.  And yes, I'm writing for myself at that age.

But most of us know a younger child, maybe age seven or eight, who reads "up." Because reading is easy for them and fun, they are soon ready for more ... more adventure, more mystery, more complex stories about youth relationships. 

Also, many middle-grade books are read by adults. With my highly-rated "Cheechako" series, for example, readers from as low as age seven to certifiable grandparents tell me they enjoy the stories. 

They like a clean, uncomplicated read where the focus remains on plot, character and adventure without the whole raft of other things they end up wading through in so-called adult books. 

"Who am I and where do I fit?"

Author Alison Cherry sees it this way. “MG is often more internally focused—about figuring out who you are and how you relate to your family and friends.

In "Cheechako," a lonely boy from 'out east,' Boston, finds life difficult in a small Alaska river town. His life changes when he steps out of his self-isolation to take a chance and ends up making a friend. 

It's a coming of age story in the best sense. A youth builds skills, courage, bonds of friendship and responsibility to the point where he can be tested and can survive. 

And we all grow and survive with him. It's what the best books do: thrust us into the middle of another person's world and haul us along for the ride. 

There are three books in the "Cheechako" series. Someone you know is ready for an Alaskan adventure ... and maybe you are too!

The Cheechako Series on Amazon

Two years of searching to find this photo

Photo courtesy of: © Hipfel/Starck and http://www.vildmark.se/

I love this photo

To me it says, adventure on the water, the promise of islands, the companionship of friends. Does it get any better for a kid with an urge to explore?

Where book covers come from

I spend a lot more time than I used to, thinking about where book covers come from. My next book is titled Raft and I've been hunting for a cover image almost since I began writing the book. Honestly, I found nothing until I found this ... better than I ever imagined.

Raft won't be one of my series books. It's the story of a lonely, awkward island boy, about grade 9, who has developed an elaborate scheme based on help from his best friend, to hide the fact that he can't read at all. 

When something happens to his friend—his only friend—he is cast utterly adrift. When summer comes, building a raft and the adventures that ensue ... help him forge a new friendship and new life.

One of my pre-readers put it this way: 

"... a gripping but also very tender story line, a rich cast of believable characters I grew to love, and a coastline setting that felt fully tangible. I simply loved this book." Holly Kruse, Cabot VT

Check this out: River rafting in Sweden

The photo hails from Sweden, from a company that features rafting adventures on the Klarälven River. First you build your own raft, with their guidance, then you drift. You remember what it feels like to walk away from your devices and give yourself to the pace of the river. Wouldn't that be an adventure with kids or grandkids! Here's the link: http://www.vildmark.se/

Australian reader amazed by guns in Father Hardy Mysteries

A letter from an Australian reader.

Today I received both a very nice review and a note from an Australian reader. With a surprising comment. 

First a bit of information. My Father Hardy Alaska Mystery Series takes place in the Territory of Alaska, circa 1955. For the most part, it's what I remember from growing up then in the tiny river town of Nenana. 

The reader said ... "(for me) the most exotic thing about the book isn't the setting or the weather (even though it was +95F here when I read it). It's the guns. Huge numbers of them. Armories in every home. I've heard of places in arctic Norway where it is illegal to go outside without a gun because of the polar bears, but Alaska..."

Raise your hand if you grew up with guns!

Here's what I told him. I'll bet this is also true for many of you. 

"As to the guns .. it probably seems strange from there, but when I was a kid … the 1950s in Alaska … every home had a gun rack, and most pickup trucks. 

My father … a priest like Father Hardy, owned a .22 pump, 12 gauge J.C. Higgins (Sears in the day) shotgun, and a WWI surplus Springfield .30-06. So yes, lots of guns. They didn’t lock them up like they do today. 

The .22 was mostly to teach us to shoot, the .12 gauge was for birds, and the .30-06 was a moose gun. I think he usually had a pistol, too, for berry picking and such. We were too far south for polar bears but it was a rare year someone didn’t get mauled or killed by a grizzly. 

I do remember that if we didn’t get a moose, we had a lean year, though in the village, many shared." 

Comment if you, also, were raised with gun. 

I told my reader it was a fairly normal Alaska experience, then and probably now. Comments? I'd love to hear 'em. And I'll pass them along. 

But ... why don't you write something real?

Father Hardy, Book 4

For years, I didn't tell people I made my living as a writer. It seemed pretentious. Also, there is a real disconnect between 'writing for hire,' and the heady world of the starving novelist.

When meeting for the first time, people always ask what you ... what I ... do. It's the frame we apply to how we intend to feel about new people, whether they are interesting enough to know. Worthy to know. I don't think it's something to get worked up about. It's just how we adjust to strangers.

So now, I tell people ... not that I am a writer ... but that I am the author of two book series about Alaska, one an adult mystery series, and the other an adventure series for the middle grades. I'm more comfortable with that. Yes, I know. Not a lot of difference.

So then, the person asks if I've been published. Back when I just wrote for money, this would often be the point where their eyes glazed over and they began to drift. Never mind that I wrote for "A" list companies like McDonald's, Starbucks, and Holland America Lines.

Seven books in.

Skip to now. I've just published my seventh novel, have a one-off novel with an agent in New York, and am writing books nine and ten. 

What hangs people up now is that I'm only writing mysteries. Not writing something real, which would be the meaningful novel. Maybe the fabled Great American Novel.

I think I am. I'm writing about new love, enduring love, and death. I'm writing about different tribes and races co-existing, or not. About concepts of belief and religion. 

People sometimes exclaim that I'm using a priest for a "detective." Who better to sort out the difference between right and wrong. Who better to explain how the rubber of our humanity reaches the road. And yes, wrapped in entertainment. 

Did you know there are more than three hundred-sixty clerical or near-clerical "detectives?" Quotes, because they're not all religious bishops, fathers, brothers or sisters. Don't believe me? Here's the list: CLERICAL DETECTIVES: http://detecs.org 

Read me.

Here's an invitation, or a challenge. You can read quite a few pages of all four of my mystery novels on Amazon ... FREE. Here's the link: https:  Father Hardy Alaska Mystery Series

Am I writing something real? You decide.  

Check this out ... a spooky short story for Christmas. 

Gabrielle, her mother, and her great grandfather, caretaking an abandoned cannery in Southeast Alaska, get a Christmas visitor they weren't expecting. 

https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=christmas+skiff

On "Memoir," ... an excerpt

I'll trade you an ebook for a review!

Yes, it takes more than humor and charm, I need reviews. 

Happily, I'm selling pretty well. But because I don't know most of the people who buy my books, I can't track them down to twist arms or to plead for a review. 

In my world, reviews are a big deal. On Amazon for example, I'm nearly invisible to their algorithms until I get more than 25 reviews ... and 50 is better.

Once they know I'm really there, really being read, I am much closer to the front of the line when it comes to their higher-level reviews, "best of" book lists, and so forth. 

How you can help. 

Simply read one of my books and review it. If you're willing to do that, I'll send you a free ebook. Of course, give it any rating you want to, say anything you like in your review. 

And ... tell your friends!

To get your free ebook, reply to this column or message me on Facebook. I'll do the rest. 

If you like mystery, I'll send you the first of my Father Hardy mysteries. Here's the link: Indecent Exposure

(If you're reading this blog on Facebook, remember to click on the blog to get out of FB to get the links to work.)

Books for adventure readers 

Or how about reading an Alaska adventure?! I'll send you "Cheechako," also recommended for reluctant readers. Check it out at this link: Cheechako

"Cheechako" is a great tale to read aloud, not so much when you're traveling with strangers on an airplane. But when you're traveling with kids in your own car, it helps keep them from hurting each other.  

Whichever book you decide to read ... 

Thank you! For helping out.