It is no secret that Steven Manchester has quickly become one of my very favorite authors. He writes with such feeling and expression that it is easy to lose yourself in his stories. With Ashes, Steven's latest offering, he delves into the relationship between two estranged brothers and the trick their not-so-dearly departed father plays on them to bring them together once more.
Middle-aged brothers Jason and Tom Prendergast thought they were completely done with each other. Perceived betrayal had burned the bridge between them, tossing them into the icy river of estrangement. But life – and death – has a robust sense of irony, and when they learn that their cruel father has died and made his final request that they travel together across the country to spread his ashes, they have no choice but to spend a long, long car trip in each other's company. It's either that or lose out on the contents of the envelope he's left with his lawyer. The trip will be as gut-wrenching as each expects it to be . . . and revealing in ways neither of them is prepared for. At turns humorous, biting, poignant, and surprisingly tender, Ashes puts a new spin on family and dysfunction with a story that is at once fresh and timelessly universal. I am always excited to read Steven's books and this one was no exception. I can wholeheartedly recommend this book. Excerpt | Ashes by Steven Manchester
Tom wheeled his late-model, platinum-colored BMW into Attorney Russell Norman’s freshly paved lot and parked between a brand new Lexus—sporting the license plate JUSTIS4U—and a custom pickup truck. Looks like I’m going after the hillbilly, he thought when he spotted the faded Massachusetts Department of Correction sticker in the rear window. His blood turned cold. “It must be Jason,” he thought aloud. I didn’t think he’d come.
Tom took a few deep breaths, not because he was nervous about his father’s death or talking to any lawyer but because he hadn’t seen his Neanderthal brother—for fifteen years, I think. He paused for a moment to give it more thought. Although their relationship had essentially vaporized in their late teens—the result of a fall out that still haunted his dreams—they’d occasionally wound up in each other’s orbits; weddings, funerals, and the like, enough to remain familiar with each other’s career choices, wives, and children. But even that came to an end fifteen years ago, he confirmed in his aching head before opening the door. While his toothache-induced migraine threatened to blind him, he took one step into the oak-paneled waiting room. His and Jason’s eyes met for the briefest moment. As though they were complete strangers, they both looked away. And here he is, Tom thought, disappointed. This is just great. Through peripheral vision, Tom noticed that his older brother now wore a scar over his right eye, just above a bushy eyebrow that could have easily belonged to a homeless Scotsman. A jagged ear lobe, a piece clearly torn away, pointed to a crooked nose that sat sideways on his face—all of it rearranged since birth. What a big tub of shit he’s turned into, Tom thought, struggling to ignore his throbbing face and head. He’s as fat as a wood tick now, he thought, grinning, and he looks like he’s ready to pop. Jason looked straight at him, as if reading his mind. Tom immediately looked away, his rapid heartbeat starting to pound in his ears, intensifying his physical pain. Unbelievable, he thought. After all the years and all the distance, his elder brother—by only two years—still scared the hell out of him. He’s just a big asshole, that’s all, he told himself, but he still couldn’t bring himself to rejoin his brother’s penetrating gaze. The secretary answered her phone before calling out, “Mr. Prendergast . . .” Both brothers stood. “Attorney Norman will see you now.” Tom walked in first, letting the door close behind him—right in Jason’s face. “Still a weasel,” Jason muttered, loud enough for all to hear. “What was that?” Tom asked just inside the door. “Don’t even think about playing with me,” Jason warned as he reopened the door and entered the room, “’cause I have no problem throwing you over my knee and spanking you right in front of this guy.” I’m fifty years old, for God’s sake, Tom thought, and he thinks he’s going to spank me? I’m surprised the prison even let him out. The attorney—his hand extended for anyone willing to give it a shake—looked mortified by the childish exchange. Tom shook the man’s hand before settling into a soft leather wing chair. Jason followed suit. The room was framed in rich mahogany paneling. The desk could have belonged in the oval office. Beneath a green-glassed banker’s lamp, stacks of file folders took up most of the vast desktop. An American flag stood in one corner, while framed diplomas and certificates, bearing witness to the man’s intelligence and vast education, covered the brown walls. Attorney Norman wore a pinstriped shirt and pleated, charcoal-colored slacks held up by a pair of black suspenders. He had a bow tie, a receding hairline that begged to be shaved bald, and a pair of eyeglasses that John Lennon would have been proud to call his own. There’s no denying it, Tom thought, trying to ignore his brother’s wheezing beside him, he’s either a lawyer or a banker. He couldn’t be anything else. While Jason squirmed in his seat, visibly uncomfortable to be sitting in a lawyer’s office, his hands squeezed the arms of the chair. What a chicken shit, Tom thought, trying to make himself feel better. Peering sideways, he noticed that his brother’s knuckles were so swollen with scar tissue they could have belonged to a man who made his living as a bare-knuckle brawler. He’s still an animal too, he decided. Attorney Norman took a seat, grabbed a manila file from atop the deep stack and cleared his throat. “The reason you’re both here . . .” “. . . is to make sure the old man’s really dead,” Jason interrupted. In spite of himself and his harsh feelings for his brother, Tom chuckled—drawing looks from both men. “The reason we’re all here,” Attorney Norman repeated, “is to read Stuart Prendergast’s last will and testament.” He flipped open the folder. This ought to be good, Tom thought, while Jason took a deep breath and sighed heavily. Both brothers sat erect in their plush chairs, waiting to hear more. As if he were Stuart Prendergast sitting there in the flesh, the mouthpiece read, “My final wish is that my two sons, Jason and Thomas, bring my final remains to 1165 Milford Road in Seattle, Washington, where they will spread my ashes.” “Seattle?” Tom blurted, his wagging tongue catching his tooth, making him wince in pain. Quickly concealing his weakness, he slid to the edge of his seat. “Oh, I don’t think so,” he mumbled, careful not to touch the tooth again. Jason was shaking his head. “Hell no,” he said. The attorney read on. “I’ve always been afraid to fly, so I’m asking that I not be transported by airplane but driven by car.” “No way,” Tom instinctively sputtered. Jason laughed aloud. “This is just great. The old bastard’s dead and he’s still screwing with us.” The less-than-amused attorney revealed a sealed envelope and continued on. “As my final gift to my sons . . .” “Only gift,” Tom muttered, feeling a cauldron of bad feelings bubbling in his gut. “I’m leaving this sealed envelope for them to share, once and only once they’ve taken me to my final resting place.” “What the fuck!” Jason blurted. Every cell in Tom’s overloaded brain flashed red. Don’t do it, he thought. You don’t owe that old man a damned thing. But every cell in his body was flooded with curiosity. He looked at Jason, who was no longer shaking his fat head. “Maybe the bastard finally hit it big at the dog track?” Jason suggested. Tom nodded in agreement but secretly wondered, Could it be the deed to the land Pop bragged about owning in Maine? He stared at the envelope. For as long as I can remember, he claimed to own forty-plus acres with a brook running straight through it. He stared harder. Could it be? he wondered, wishing he had X-ray vision. A parcel of land in Maine sure would make a nice retirement . . . “How ’bout we travel separately and meet in Seattle to spread the ashes?” Jason said, interrupting his thoughts. “Great idea,” Tom said, hoping against all hope that the idea would fly with their father’s lawyer. Attorney Norman shook his head. “I’m sorry, gentlemen, but your father specifically requested that you travel together with his remains to Seattle. Any deviation from this can and will prohibit you from attaining the sealed envelope.” There was a long pause, the room blanketed in a heavy silence. Son of a bitch, Tom thought, this couldn’t have come at a worse time. He turned to Jason, who was already looking at him. “What do you say?” he asked, already cursing his inability to curb his curiosity. Jason shook his head in disgust. “The last thing I want to do is to go on some stupid road trip with you.” “Trust me, that’s a mutual feeling,” Tom shot back. “But I don’t think we have a choice,” Jason added. “Our fucked-up father wants to play one last game with us, so to hell with it—let’s play.” This is insane, but he’s right, Tom thought. With a single nod, Tom stood. “Okay, let’s have the ashes then,” he told the lawyer. The attorney shook his head. “I don’t have them. They’re currently at a funeral home in Salem.” “Salem?” Tom squeaked, unhappy that his tone betrayed his distress. “That’s right. You have to take custody of your father’s remains from the Buffington Funeral Home in Salem, Massachusetts.” “You must be shitting me.” Jason said. The attorney smirked. “I shit you not,” he said, throwing the letter onto his desk. Salem? Tom repeated in his head. Just when I thought Pop couldn’t be a bigger prick . . . The migraine knocked even harder from the inside of his skull, making him feel nauseous. Amid the pain, his synapses fired wildly, considering all this would mean: I’ll have to take bereavement leave from school and find someone to cover my classes. I should probably double my treatment with Dr. Baxter tomorrow. And what about Caleb and Caroline? he asked himself, quickly deciding, They’ll be fine without me for a few days. Then he pictured his wife’s face. And Carmen, she’ll be fine without me for a lot longer than that. The nausea increased. Screw her. “Are we done here?” Jason asked, obviously itching to leave. The lawyer nodded. “I’ll need proof in the form of a video or a series of photos that you’ve deposited your father’s remains where he wished. Once I have that, the letter’s all yours.” “How wonderful,” Jason said sarcastically. He stood, turned on his heels, and headed for the door. Tom also got to his feet. He looked at the lawyer and, trying to ignore his physical discomfort, he smiled. “Don’t mind him,” he said, shrugging. “That imbecile is exactly what our father trained him to be.”
Steven Manchester is the author of the #1 bestsellers Twelve Months, The Rockin’ Chair, Pressed Pennies, and Gooseberry Island as well as the novels Goodnight, Brian and The Changing Season. His work has appeared on NBC’s Today Show, CBS’s The Early Show, CNN’s American Morning, and BET’s Nightly News. Recently, three of Manchester’s short stories were selected “101 Best” for the Chicken Soup for the Soul series.
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10/15/2016 0 Comments The Changing SeasonSteven Manchester has proven himself to be an insightful and gifted author. From The Rockin’ Chair to Pressed Pennies to Gooseberry Island, he is able to relay the stories he tells in such a way that the reader feels immersed into the narrative. I have been honored to review several of his books, and each time I think he can’t possibly impress me more. And then he does. This book, The Changing Season, is no exception. From the first lines, I felt as though I was right there in the car with Billy, hearing the rain beat down on the roof and feeling the anxiety of trying to make it home safely through a brutal storm. Then I felt such relief when Billy finally made it home safely to his best friend, Jimmy. And this was just in the first half of the first chapter! The chapters that followed were just as skillful at sucking me in and making me stay up WAY beyond my bedtime because I just could not put it down! One of the things I like the most about Steven’s books is the skillful way he takes very difficult life events – war, divorce, injury, illness, death – and although he doesn’t sugarcoat the trauma of these events, he relates a story that makes them somehow less scary. He forces the reader to stare these traumas in the face and come out the other side feeling empowered and determined. I loved this book, just as much as I have loved all of his other books. I saw another review that mentioned that reading his books feels like coming home, and I whole-heartedly agree. I feel like I am slipping into a big comfy sweater and sitting in front of a fireplace with a soothing cup of tea everytime I read one of his books. It is comforting to have that feeling with all of the turmoil happening in the world. I cannot wait to see (and read) what he does next! 10/8/2016 0 Comments A Trip to the Ancient CityA few weeks ago I took a weekend trip to St. Augustine, FL. This city is one of my most favorite places on the planet. At this point, I have done just about everything there is to do there. I have climbed to the top of the lighthouse, I have taken a carriage ride. I have taken every single ghost tour imaginable. I have ridden the Red Train so many times we can recite the driver’s script right along with him/her! When I go now, it is truly for a getaway – a chance to relax, enjoy the atmosphere, drink some fine wine and enjoy some of my favorite restaurants. Here are some of my favorite things in St. Augustine: The St. George Inn Located just inside the City Gates on St. George Street, this little gem of a hotel is in the perfect place! My favorite room, room #25, is located in the front corner and features a wrap-around balcony with spectacular views of the City Gates, the Castillo de San Marcos, the Matanzas Inlet, the lighthouse, and the Bridge of Lions. The wooden rocking chairs on each balcony make great vantage points for people watching, and because all balcony rooms are on the second floor, the breezes off the bay make it very pleasant, even on the warmest Florida day. The trolley stop for both tour trolleys is steps from the front door – talk about convenient! One of the owners are always on site, and nobody knows the city better than they do! Whether you want to go to the beach, go parasailing, or go to an elegant restaurant, they know just where to send you! They also offer a delicious (and complimentary) European-style Continental Breakfast with seating in the gorgeous courtyard next to the sparkling fountain. Red Train Tours There are two tour trolleys in St. Augustine, but Red Train Tours is my favorite. The drivers are knowledgeable and entertaining, and because the trains are a little smaller than the other trolley company, they are the only ones that go down Aviles Street, the oldest platted street in the United States. You can purchase 1-day or 3-day tickets, which give you unlimited on and off privileges at 22 stops around the city. They also offer a shuttle service to take you to the Lighthouse and the Alligator Farm over on Anastasia Island. The Red Trains are tradition – I try to ride them completely around at least once during each visit. Harry’s Seafood Bar and Grille Or, Harry’s, as I call it! This is my favorite restaurant in the city. It features New Orleans style cuisine in an extraordinarily beautiful setting. When we go, I always order the Shrimp Etouffee, a Harry’s Hurricane (or several), and for dessert we share an amazing Banana’s Foster. The real draw, however, is the building the restaurant is housed in. I am a history buff – specifically, old houses and buildings. The building that houses Harry’s was built sometime in the mid-1700’s and was originally the home of Catalina dePorras. When The Treaty of Paris was signed in 1763, Florida became a British colony after almost 200 years of Spanish rule, forcing the entire population of St Augustine to leave for Cuba. In 1784, Florida was returned to the Spanish and the former residents of St. Augustine were free to return to their beloved city, Catalina among them. Catalina was able to re-acquire her childhood home and died there of old age in 1795. It is said that her spirit still remains in her beloved home, and she will make her presence known to the visitors to the women’s restroom on the 2nd floor, which used to be her bedroom. I don’t blame her. I wouldn’t like to have strangers doing their business in my bedroom either. San Sebastian Winery The San Sebastian Winery is a marvelous place! They make several award-winning Florida wines there, and their wine and jazz bar, The Cellar Upstairs, is a great place to enjoy a glass of wine and listen to some amazing local jazz. Located on the roof of the winery, it offers spectacular 360 degree views of the city and the salt marsh. The Lightner Museum The Lightner Museum is located in what used to be the historic Hotel Alcazar, which also is the home to the city offices and other small businesses. The museum itself, however, is spectacular. The first floor houses artifacts from the Victorian age and features a music room with player pianos, music boxes and nickelodeons. Several times a day these mechanized musical instruments are demonstrated by museum docents and it is glorious! There are too many things to see to list them here, but my favorite things were the paintings, the sculptures and the collection of Tiffany stained glass. You must see it to truly appreciate it. On top of all this, the building itself is a sight to behold. Many of the galleries are situated around the three story ballroom, in the Turkish Baths and in the spa. The Ponce de Leon Hotel (Flagler College) The Ponce was Henry Flagler’s masterpiece, a hotel for the richest of the rich. It was only open for the winter season, January for April, and regardless of whether you stayed one night or the whole season, you paid for the whole season! Presidents, celebrities, sports figures and captains of industry all stayed there. Now, it houses Flagler College, a private liberal arts school. The students conduct guided tours of the building and grounds, including the dining room with its Tiffany windows, the main rotunda with its carved wood and magnificent murals, and the public meeting rooms. It is very inexpensive and worth the time. There is so much more to do here – it truly is a magical place. If you have the opportunity to visit, I strongly encourage you to go! If you have been there, what were some of your favorite things? **UPDATE** As you may know, St. Augustine has recently endured the rage of Hurricane Matthew. I went down to visit the city again this weekend, and I'm happy to say that the city is getting back on it's feet. Some businesses are still cleaning up but, for the most part, the city is open for business. I will be posting a blog post about that soon. When I tell people that I am an amateur genealogist who is working toward becoming a professional genealogist, I have come to expect one of two reactions: The eye roll that says “Genealogy is a hobby, not a career!”, or the patronizing smile that says “How cute, everybody is into researching their family trees these days!” Occasionally I am surprised by someone who thinks what I do is really cool, but mostly I am greeted by the above reactions. Genealogy. Yes, it has become wildly popular and with television shows like “Who Do You Think You Are?” and “Genealogy Roadshow”, suddenly everybody is trying to climb their family tree. This is not a bad thing! The more people who are researching – seriously researching – their family history, the better! When people use sound research methods – citing their sources and providing tangible proof of their claims – everybody wins! The problem comes into play when people believe everything they read without proof, and then pass it on as fact. The savvy researcher must learn to first be a skeptic – every bit of information you come across must be considered to be suspect until you can verify it through reliable, independent sources. Your first rule has to be: DON’T PASS ON BAD INFORMATION! I’ve been researching my family tree for over 20 years. When I first started, I was SO gullible! I believed EVERYTHING!! I had to start over so many times. Now, I’m more careful. I double check and triple check everything. It can be tedious. It can be frustrating. I have hit brick walls that I have dealt with for YEARS! But – I know that the data I have is rock solid and I feel 100% confident in sharing my information with anybody. I may never become a professional genealogist. I may never break down all of my brick walls. But this journey I have been on is one I wouldn’t trade for anything. I have learned so much about the people who came before me. I understand a lot of things. I have some people in my tree who I am extremely proud of. I can’t wait to see who else I will shake free! 9/24/2016 0 Comments Love, Lust, Loyalty, Betrayal – The Accidental Empress Isn’t Your Typical Fairy TaleWhen I read Allison Pataki’s debut novel, The Traitor’s Wife, I became an immediate fan. I couldn’t get enough! I finished that book and could not wait for the next one. I tweeted and posted about it endlessly (I’m sure that my friends and family thought I had lost my mind!) I started following Allison on Facebook and Twitter. I set up a Google alert so I would know as soon as she made it public what her next book was going to be about. When she started teasing about the subject matter, I was giddy with excitement! I started Googling Empress Sisi and was immediately drawn in to her story! I could not wait to read Allison’s take on this very dramatic story. I was also a little nervous. Allison’s first novel was so compelling, how could she top it? It is so unlikely for lightning to strike twice! Happily, my fears were completely unfounded. The Accidental Empress is captivating, grabbing you from the first word to the last. I absolutely could not put it down. I should have known better - Allison Pataki is an inspired storyteller and has a way of writing that pulls you into her world and makes you never want to leave it. As a young girl of 15, Elizabeth (or Sisi, as she was called), travelled with her sister Helene from Germany to Austria to meet their cousin, Emperor Franz Josef, to whom Helene was betrothed. It was an arranged marriage, and Franz Josef and Helene were ill at ease with each other. However, once Franz Josef met Sisi, he fell madly in love with her. He informed his mother that he would marry Sisi, or he would not marry at all. His mother, the domineering Princess Sophie of Bavaria, reluctantly agreed, and they were married within the year. So begins the complicated story of Sisi’s life as Empress of Austria. Against the glamourous background of the Habsburg court, we find a story of a young girl thrust into a position that she didn’t ask for and didn’t really want. She is emotionally tortured by her mother-in-law (who I wanted to punch in the face more than a few times) and suffers more than her fair share of tragic events, but she is a survivor and perseveres. This book is so good! I was actually sad when it was over, and I am currently suffering the symptoms of a book hangover: the struggle a person goes through trying to reconnect with reality after finishing an AMAZING book. The characters were extraordinarily well developed and researched. The notes that Allison Pataki included at the end of the book separate the fact from the fiction and help us to understand an empire with which we may not be familiar. She is also gentle in her storytelling, bringing the stories to life but she doesn’t take the easy way out by indulging in graphic violence or descriptions of intimacy. She takes her time and coaxes you into the story, making you care about her characters and being protective of them. When Allison revealed the cover art for The Accidental Empress, she ran a contest. She challenged her followers to post the cover of the book as their profile page for 10 days. Those who did were entered to win an autographed copy of the book, and I was so excited the day I learned that I was one of the 10 winners! Next, Allison started recruiting fans to join her book launch team to help publicize the book, and of course I was one of the first to volunteer! I was already preaching the wonderfulness that is Allison Pataki’s writing, so it seemed like a natural thing to do. I was proud to be on her team, and I wholeheartedly told everyone who would listen that they HAD to read this book. I am currently suffering the symptoms of a book hangover: the struggle a person goes through trying to reconnect with reality after finishing an AMAZING book. I give The Accidental Empress 2 enthusiastic thumbs up, 5 stars, a 10 out of 10. I cannot recommend this book highly enough! Now excuse me, I think I’m going to go read it again… 9/17/2016 0 Comments Gooseberry IslandGooseberry Island is a compelling story of modern love in the midst of a war, and the unique challenges that come along with loving a good person who is coping with PTSD. Lindsey and David met on the eve of his deployment as an Army Ranger to the war torn landscape of Afghanistan. They spent an entire night on a beach bench together, talking, watching the stars, dreaming of the future, falling in love. The next day, David was on a transport heading off to war. They keep in touch by Skype and email, luxuries afforded to modern day warriors. However, modern warfare is not all that different from wars gone by. David experiences things that change him at his core. Where there was once optimism, there is now depression; panic has replaced his relaxed, easy going nature. His body may be back stateside, but his mind and emotions are still fighting what seems to be a never-ending battle. Lindsey finds David’s issues all too familiar, having dealt with the PTSD of her own father, himself a war veteran. She is unsure if she wants to willingly take on the challenges that will come along with being in a relationship with David, even though she is sure that he is her soulmate. Steven Manchester has woven an intricate tale describing the horrors of war juxtaposed against the idyllic setting of the small New England town of Gooseberry Island. I became a fan of Steven’s writing with his last book, Pressed Pennies, and with Gooseberry Island, my admiration for his writing has only grown. He is a masterful storyteller with a singular ability to bring people and places to life, regardless of whether the subject is familiar to the reader or completely foreign. This book is yet another triumph for Steven Manchester, who is quickly taking his well-deserved place amongst the best contemporary authors of today. I whole-heartedly recommend this book! This review was written based on a copy of Gooseberry Island that I received from the author in exchange for an honest review. |
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