Passages to the Past: 2023

Excerpt & Giveaway: Petunia 1949 by Leah Brewer

Petunia 1949 by Leah Brewer

Publication Date: May 1, 2023

Genre: Historical Fiction

Spitfire, Petunia Hollings was born in 1935 in the deep South. She spends her childhood working the cotton fields and longing for her daddy to love her as he does her siblings.

Spending time with her best friend Opal is one distraction Petunia looks forward to. Opal’s skin color was never a problem. Or so Petunia thought.

After young love sweeps Petunia to a new life in Chicago, she learns to accept love as it’s offered instead of expecting more than one can give.

When circumstances force her to return home, her friendship with Opal helps Petunia's fractured heart start to heal.

Then a new, even more dangerous threat surfaces. Will Petunia find the strength to overcome the hatred surrounding her?

Amazon

Excerpt

Petunia rolled over, and a wasp stung her right on the hip. She hopped out of the twin bed and landed a half-asleep gaze on the mattress. She better find the wasp before it got her again.

Upon inspection, it wasn’t a wasp, after all. It was a stupid spring that dug into her side. Time to flip the mattress. If only her bones weren’t aching after working for hours in the field and garden, she’d do it now.

She needed a day of fishing with her friends. Maybe she’d talk Mama into letting her skip out early to get them some supper one day this week. If not, she’d have to wait for the weekend, which would be better than not going at all.

The back door slammed, and Petunia shot off the bed. It wasn't even five o'clock in the morning. Who would be up in the house? She slipped on her only pair of boots and tiptoed to the bedroom door.

Voices drifted from the backyard. She eased the window up a notch and sat on the floor. She'd love to have a piece of cake to snack on. Or some pie. Her stomach complained by growling for what seemed like an entire minute.

That's what she got for thinking of sweets when she knew they didn't have stuff to make any of that right now. Maybe she'd take on some laundry from town to make enough money for another banana cake.

The wind carried Mama’s voice through the open window. "Oliver Dewitt Hollings, I swear if I find out you've cheated on me with that Marshall woman, I'll kill you both!"

Daddy balked. "Calm yourself down, woman!" His voice lowered, so Petunia leaned into the screen. "Ain't nothing going on between me and Gail."

"Lies! She thinks she's better than me and our kids, but she looks at you like you're her man. Not mine!"

Petunia clamped her hand over her mouth. Surely Daddy wouldn't cheat with that woman!

"Your cockeyed notions are a pain in the neck, woman! I ain't tellin' you again. Nothing happened. Her leg’s broke anyways."

Things got quiet for a few minutes. Petunia would give anything to see what was happening. Or hear what they whispered.

Daddy spoke again, but his voice sounded different. "You ain't got a bit of room to talk about cheating. Not when one of the kids probably ain't even mine!"

A crack sounded then Mama spoke between sobs. The hurt in her voice made Petunia’s heart lurch. "I told you my mama was a redheaded woman. Why do you keep accusing me of something?"

"You say she was a redhead, but how do I know that for sure since we never met?"

"Now you accuse me of lying about Mama's hair color?!?"

Lloyd poked his head out of the little closet he called a bedroom. He walked over and slid down the wall, resting his hand on the floor beside Petunia's knee. "You shouldn't be listening to Mama and Daddy fight."

Hot tears threatened to fall as her eyes searched Lloyd’s. "Am I Daddy's kid?"

"Sure you are. Don't let his rantings bother you none.” He reached over and ruffled her hair. “Now go back to bed."

"But Daddy don't think I'm his kid." Her voice came out flat even to her own ears.

Lloyd’s shoulder raised in a half-shrug. "Who cares what he thinks? I sure don't. And if you ask me, you're lucky if you ain't his kid."

Unable to hold the tears back, Petunia bolted off the floor and out the front door at a dead run.

She ran until her legs were jelly, not caring she was in her slip of a nightgown. She had to get away from it all. And the bayou was the best place to do it.

When she reached her destination, the sun peeked beyond the trees above the water. She stopped in her tracks and stared at the ball of fire's reflection. A fish jumped out and back into the water. Bright pink, orange, and yellow waves softly skidded in the circles the fish left behind.

She rubbed the chill bumps that sprang onto her arms and breathed in the smell of early morning on the water. This right here was her happy place.

It had been ever since Daddy got mad and cut down the swing Martin had set up in a tree for them to play on. That swing had been a piece of Martin after he passed away. Then Daddy took it away like everything else. All that had been left was ashes after he burned the swing in the woodpile.

She allowed her mind to drift back to a time of carefree laughter and playing outside. Evelyn pushing her as high as she could go in their swing while Teresa pretended to have a tea party. Those days of carefree playing were few and had passed way too quickly. The memory shattered, and the people from those days seemed like colorful fragments of broken glass. Broken apart by too many days of mind-numbing work in the cotton fields. She longed for a fishing pole to catch some good dinner and forget her worries. If her friend Opal was with her, she’d for sure fish.

A branch cracked, and then someone cleared his throat behind Petunia. She spun around and met Verlon Marshall's questioning gaze. He raised his hands to display two cane fishing poles in one hand and a tackle box in the other.

His eyebrows lifted as he set the tackle box at the water's edge. "Petunia? What in the world are you doing out here in your nightgown?"

Volcanic heat traveled from the soles of her feet to the top of her head. "None of your business is what."

He snickered and walked closer to where she stood. She bristled until he held his jacket out. "Put this on. You have to be cold."

Swallowing down the smart remark, she accepted the jacket. "Thanks."

He sat down on a log close to the water. "You didn't answer my question. Is everything all right?"

She raised her chin. "Maybe I wanted to catch some fish."

"Okay. Where's your equipment?" He craned his neck to look behind her.

She rested her right hand on her hip. "My what?"

"Tacklebox and fishing pole.” He scanned the area. “I don't see it."

She stomped a foot, then instantly regretted it. "Because I didn't bring it!"

He patted a space beside him on the log. "How about you join me then? Uncle Eddie was gonna come, but Aunt Gail needed his help with something."

She glanced over his shoulder and shrugged. "I dunno."

"Come on!" He pulled a fat worm out of a container. "You can keep whatever you catch."

A good old piece of fried Perch sounded too good to pass up. And she’d always had a good time fishing with Verlon when they were younger. "All right then. But I ain't a baby. I can put the worm on my own hook."

He raised his left eyebrow before handing her a pole. "Never said you was."

Three hours later, she skipped home with a string of Perch, Crappy, and a Bass. She couldn't wait to show Lloyd! And Daddy would even be happy to see her if she brought home dinner!

She walked past the barn, and loud crying caught her attention. She stuck her head in and sighed. Mama lay curled up beside the raggedy cat, bawling like an abandoned baby. Petunia meandered over to her and sat beside her.

Mama met Petunia’s eyes and raised her arms. Petunia wasted no time slipping into Mama's embrace and holding her close.

"He left again, Petunia!" Mama got out between sobs. "Don't ever marry a man who don't love you with all his heart."

Why would she say that? "Okay, Mama. I won’t.”

She should’ve known. Her daddy was gone again. And it was all her fault.

About the Author

Leah Brewer is a multi-genre author who writes clean novels. Even though she was the youngest of six and the only girl, she had a lot of time on her hands. She was born to her parents in a small town in Central Arkansas later in life. Growing up, you could find Leah playing make-believe near the White River or as she waded through water deep in the woods.

Leah is a Writers Ink of Northeast Arkansas member and is currently working on her third installment in her Seeds of Faith series.

Before she started writing, you could find Leah behind a computer working her telecommunications job that she’s had for over twenty-five years.

Leah spends her spare time with her husband, Mark, their grown children, and her brand-new granddaughter, Charlotte.

You can find Leah at facebook.com/writingleahbrewer or leahbrewerauthor.com.

Blog Tour Schedule

Monday, May 1
Excerpt at Passages to the Past

Tuesday, May 2
Review at Tammy Reads

Wednesday, May 3
Review & Excerpt at Connie's History Classroom

Wednesday, May 10
Review at Older & Smarter

Thursday, May 11
Review at Rajiv's Reviews

Friday, May 12
Review at Novels Alive
Review at Girl Who Reads
Review at Reading is My Remedy

Giveaway

Enter to win a copy of Petunia 1949 by Leah Brewer + $25 Amazon Gift Card!

The giveaway is open to the US only and ends on May 12th. You must be 18 or older to enter.

Author Interview & Giveaway: The Rose of Washington Square by Pat Wahler

The Rose of Washington Square: A Novel of Rose O'Neill, Creator of the Kewpie Doll by Pat Wahler

Publication Date: January 20, 2023

Evergreen Press

Genre: Historical Fiction

She set out to make her way in a man's world, rising from obscurity into one of the most famous women of her era.

Self-taught artist Rose O'Neill leaves the Midwest for New York in 1893, determined to become an illustrator in a field dominated by males. Mindful of her duty to the impoverished family she left behind, Rose’s obligations require her to yield to the men who hold the reins of her career; as well as the men she grows to love.

Yet despite every obstacle facing her, she excels at her craft, eventually designing a new character, the Kewpie. Her creation explodes into a phenomenon, but Rose’s disenchantment with the status quo fosters new ambitions. She must decide whether to remain within the boundaries dictated for her, or risk everything she’s gained to pursue the creative and personal passions that ignite her soul.

With grit and tenacity, Rose O'Neill blazed an unforgettable path during the tumultuous times of the early 20th century.

Available in eBook

Praise

“Rose O'Neill was a trailblazer of her time, and her life is a testament to the power of perseverance in the face of impossible odds.”
—Kathleen Grissom, New York Times bestselling author of The Kitchen House

“A classic reinvention of the life of Rose O’Neill, the creator of the iconic Kewpie doll.”
—Nina Romano, award-winning author of The Secret Language of Women

“From start to finish, this story honors the talent, devotion to family, and the success that was such a huge part of Rose O’Neill’s life.”
—Readers’ Favorite

Interview with Author Pat Wahler

Hello Pat and welcome to Passages to the Past! Thanks so much for stopping by today to talk about The Rose of Washington Square!

Thank you so much for hosting me, Amy!

To begin, can you please tell us a little about yourself and your writing?

I’m a native Missourian with a family I adore. In addition to my family, my major interests lie in books and animals. Funny how books and animals tend to be two things that resonate with many of the writers and readers I know.

As a kid, my mother took me to the library where I’d check out a stack of books each week. I’d read until she glared at me and ordered, “Get your nose out of that book and go outside!” I believe avid readers often transform into writers, and so it happened with me.

What inspired you to write about Rose O'Neill, the creator of the Kewpie Doll?

My first historical novel, I am Mrs. Jesse James, focused on a woman with Missouri ties. This worked out conveniently in terms of research as well as opening for me many venues who were interested in the book. I decided to find another woman connected with Missouri and Rose O’Neill quickly jumped to the top of my list. She lived a fascinating life; one that included much more than the Kewpies. From artist to sculptor to writer to philanthropist to activist and suffragist, it seemed to me Rose did it all.

What research did you undertake when writing the book?

I spent about a year reading and taking notes on anything I could find about Rose. Books, articles, and newspaper accounts to name a few. I spent a day at Rose’s home in Walnut Shade, Missouri, with incredible volunteers who are the keepers of Rose O’Neill’s legacy, before I started to write the story.

What was your favorite scene to write?

That’s almost like asking who’s my favorite child. If I have to choose, I suppose it would be the beginning, when Rose sets out full of hopes, dreams, and determination to make her way in a man’s world.

What was the most difficult scene to write?

There were several scenes related to deaths of people dear to Rose that were difficult, but the toughest death scenes related to two of Rose’s family members. I cried while writing both of them.

When did you know you wanted to be a writer?

As I mentioned earlier, I do think most avid readers at least consider the possibility of writing something of their own. I can remember at the age of six, writing five pages I illustrated, where Matt Dillon and Miss Kitty got married. (I couldn’t understand why the Gunsmoke writers couldn’t manage to make that happen when clearly it needed to!) As time went on I got braver (and a little smarter about writing stories) and began to submit my work. When the first piece was accepted, I was hooked.

What does your daily writing routine look like?

Routine? I’m supposed to have a routine? I tend to operate on deadlines, and sadly I cannot seem to multi-task. This means I need a project that’s been researched and outlined before I can actually write it. I do prefer to write in the morning when my mind is fresh, but I make a point of getting up periodically to walk, even if it’s only for five minutes. I found out the hard way that too much sitting is bad for the back.

Are you a pantser or a plotter?

I have to start with an outline to know where I’m going with a story, but when the book begins to take on a life of its own, I don’t mind making changes in the original plan. Perhaps that makes me a plantser?

Do you write in a linear fashion (scene by scene) or do you jump around?

My brain works best when I keep things in chronological order. If I have thoughts about a future scene, I’ll jot down notes on it to expound upon later, rather than risk forgetting an inspiration.

If your book were made into a movie, who would you cast?

That’s a tough one. Maybe Amanda Seyfried as Rose and Emma Stone as her sister Callista. I could envision Marcia Gay Harden as Meemie. I’d better stop there since it’s kind of fun (but time consuming) to Google people and try to match them up to my characters!

What has been your greatest challenge as a writer? Have you been able to overcome it?

Trying to juggle too many balls. There are an unbelievable amount of hats that must be worn by a writer these days, and most of them don’t involve writing at all. I suspect this is not a challenge that’s unique to me.

Who are your writing inspirations?

Oh my. So many literary talents. Harper Lee boggled my mind with the simple beauty of her prose. Writers like Susanna Kearsley, Paula McLain, Kate Quinn, and Kate Morton never disappoint.

What was the first historical novel you read?

As I youngster, I gravitated toward historical fiction. Little Women. Black Beauty. Beautiful Joe. It seems I always enjoyed reading about the past. Probably my first adult historical novel was Gone With the Wind. I read it in middle school.

What is the last historical novel you read?

I just finished reading The Surgeon’s Daughter by Audrey Blake, and really enjoyed it.

What are three things people may not know about you?

In my former career, I spent decades as a Juvenile Officer, working with kids who had run afoul of the law.

I’m a totally committed tea-drinker that cannot abide even the aroma of coffee.

If life gave out a report card, I’d get an “F” for multi-tasking. In research mode I can’t do anything else. In marketing mode, same problem. Ditto with writing. Sigh.

What appeals to you most about your chosen genre?

I love reading and writing historical fiction because it brings the past to life in a way history books do not. It’s as simple as that.

What historical time period do you gravitate towards the most with your personal reading?

I’m pulled most toward mid to late 19th century and early 20th century stories.

What do you like to do when you aren't writing?

I enjoy spending time with my family (I have the most adorable grandson who loves to read!) and I’m addicted to buying books. Stacks and stacks of books.

Lastly, what are you working on next?

I have in mind a woman I’d like to write about who made her mark in the field of medicine. However, as of yet I haven’t even started researching. (Did I mention I’m terrible at multi-tasking?)