Roxanne Rhoads's Blog, page 11
January 23, 2025
Free Read Armored Hours by Stephanie Hansen
FreeRead- Get Your Free eBook On Amazon
✨ Light Romantasy Set inthe Prohibition Era
✨ Strong FemaleFriendships
✨ Magic Realism
✨ Mystery
✨ Found Family
Armored HoursStephanie Hansen
Genre: Historical Mystery, Romance, Magic
Publisher: Hypothesis Books
Cover Artist: Fay Lane
Book Description:
The girls had forged abond together like iron that could not be broken. Claudia, Kiersten, Lina, andFlorian were on the brink of making history with their powerful feminist movement,but then they suddenly disappeared without a trace.
Alexander was a desperate bootlegger who was willing to risk it all to searchfor them. Not only were they in cahoots with him to help smuggle feministcontraband and forbidden booze, but Claudia had also unknowingly captivated hisheart. He vowed to find them at any cost, but little did he know that theirdisappearance was part of a much bigger and sinister plot from the upperechelons of society.
Set in 1920s Paris of the Plains, Armored Hours is a thrilling tale of love andmystery interwoven with hints of magical realism.
https://amzn.to/3WEBJSx
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0D9FLQT1C
January 20, 2025
A Bewitching Monday
#BookReview ~ Banquets and Bootleg Bounty by Lily Barrish Levner ~ #Historical #CozyMystery #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/4hk1osm
Fast Times, Big City by Shelly Frome #HistoricalFiction #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/4atjkia
Check in for chills, check out with goosebumps: Explore Michigan's haunted hotels with author, Roxanne Rhoads.
Haunted Hotels of Michigan
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#MichigansMostHauntedHotels #MichigansMostHaunted
#HauntedMichigan #MichiganGhosts #GhostlyGetaways #MichigansGhostlyGetaways #HauntedTravel #GhostTravel #GhostTourism #HauntedTourism #DarkTourism #HauntedHotelsofMichigan #MichigansHauntedHotels
Banquets and Bootleg Bounty by Lily Barrish Levner #CozyMystery #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/4g487pq
In the Kitchen with Lily Barrish Levner #InTheKitchen #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/3Cdf1L1
What they’re saying about The Hunter’s Daughter: “I just got your book from the library and finished it in one sitting!! I was locked in and obsessed! I just wanted to let you know how much I enjoyed your book, and can’t wait to see what you’ve got coming next 💕Love, a new lifelong fan!” - Chloe C.
The Hunter's Daughter by Nicola Solvinic from Berkley Publishing Group. Now available: https://bit.ly/3YDcQHB
#nicolasolvinic #thehuntersdaughter #mysteryauthor #crimeauthor #thrillerwriter #criminology #crimefiction #crimethriller #crimenovel #suspensenovel #thrillebook #murdermystery #mysteryreads #booklovers #bookclub #newrelease #bookreview
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January 17, 2025
A Bewitching Friday
Banquets and Bootleg Bounty Book Tour
https://lshadowlynauthor.com/2025/01/...
In the Kitchen with Lily Barrish Levner #InTheKitchen #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/3Cdf1L1
Bud Palmer is in a bind as he finds himself at the crossroads where everything is on the verge
Fast Times, Big City by Shelly Frome https://amzn.to/3W6VLps
Follow the Wolf Pack and our authors on BlueSky!
This giveaway ends January 17. Note: Entries will be verified.
PRIZE: $50 Amazon GC https://forms.gle/JirggTaiKHP4uos27
Guest Blog- Banquets and Bootleg Bounty by Lily Barrish Levner #CozyMystery
https://serenasynn.blogspot.com/2025/...
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January 16, 2025
A Bewitching Thursday
Fast Times, Big City by Shelly Frome #HistoricalFiction #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/4gSZwXN
Banquets and Bootleg Bounty by Lily Barrish Levner #CozyMystery #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/4jbRhHX
In the Kitchen with Lily Barrish Levner #InTheKitchen #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/3Cdf1L1
Bud Palmer is in a bind as he finds himself at the crossroads where everything is on the verge
Fast Times, Big City by Shelly Frome https://amzn.to/3W6VLps
Follow the Wolf Pack and our authors on BlueSky!
This giveaway ends January 17. Note: Entries will be verified.
PRIZE: $50 Amazon GC https://forms.gle/JirggTaiKHP4uos27
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January 14, 2025
A Bewitching Tuesday
Interview- Banquets and Bootleg Bounty by Lily Barrish Levner #CozyMystery #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/42eaMth
Fast Times, Big City by Shelly Frome #HistoricalFiction #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/4fVGfUo
Bud Palmer is in a bind as he finds himself at the crossroads where everything is on the verge
Fast Times, Big City by Shelly Frome https://amzn.to/3W6VLps
Banquets and Bootleg Bounty by Lily Barrish Levner #CozyMystery #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/3BVzEvf
Follow the Wolf Pack and our authors on BlueSky!
This giveaway ends January 17. Note: Entries will be verified.
PRIZE: $50 Amazon GC https://forms.gle/JirggTaiKHP4uos27
INTERVIEW - COZY MYSTERY - BANQUETS AND BOOTLEG BOUNTY by Lily Barrish Levner
https://thebookjunkiereadspromos.blog...
The Hunter’s Daughter unfolds a chilling tale of a woman with a dark legacy: she's the secret daughter of a serial killer. As a copycat killer emerges, she must rely on the eerie skills her father taught her in the forest to track them down. It's a gripping story that will keep you on edge until the very end.
https://bit.ly/3YDcQHB
#nicolasolvinic #TheHuntersDaughter #mysteryauthor #crimeauthor #thrillerwriter #criminology #criminologymastermind #crimefiction #crimethriller #crimenovels #detectivenovels #suspensenovels #thrillerbooks #murdermystery #mysteryseries #whodunit #mysteryreads #bookcommunity #mustread #bookrecommendation #bookish #booklovers #readinglist #bookclub #newrelease
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January 13, 2025
Fast Times, Big City by Shelly Frome #HistoricalFiction
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Fast Times, Big CityShelly Frome
Genre: Historical Fiction Publisher: BCB PublishingDate of Publication: February 27 2024ISBN: 9798886330267ASIN: BOC8CBLC2CNumber of pages: 284Word Count: 77, 501Cover Artist: Frank Federico
Tagline: Bud Palmer is in a bind as he finds himself at the crossroads where everything is on the verge
Book Description:
Like most people, Bud Palmer felt this was just another day. Though the era was drawing to a close, he assumed his life as a sports columnist in the subtropics, in keeping with the benign fifties itself, would go on as predictable as ever.
But that particular autumn morning he was thrust into a caper that was totally beyond him, forced him to leave Miami and take the train to Manhattan, and suddenly found everything in this restless "Big Apple" was up for grabs, on the brink, at a dicey turning point.
Amazon
Excerpt from Chapter One
Bud Palmer slipped onhis sunglasses and set off in his Ford Sunliner convertible on this balmysubtropical Satur- day morning. All the while he tried to convince himself hecould get this meeting over with quickly no matter what his shady uncle Rickwas up to.
Then again Bud wishedhe’d just hung up on him. Not put up with “Can’t tell you over the phone. Ineed you here in person, soon as possible.” That way he wouldn’t be drivingacross the MacArthur Causeway. Moreover, if his mother hadn’t asked him to lookout for her kid brother while she and his dad were on their Caribbean cruise,he’d never have been reminded of Rick’s schemes such as hanging up a dualRealtor/ PI sign.
He wouldn’t be thinkingof Rick Ellis at all.
As he drove on, moredisconcerting images came to mind: a wiry little guy clutching a polaroidcamera, hiding behind the poinsettias as some floozy snuck into a garish motelwith some- one’s husband in tow.
Not that Bud himself wasalways straightforward. At twenty- nine, while his friends were married withkids he was still easing out of relationships the minute he was asked, “Tellme, Bud, how much does a sportswriter make?” Or, “I hear there’s a newsubdivision going up in Miramar, each house with a Lanai. Perfect for raising afamily.”
In comparison with Rick,however, Bud was always honest about his intentions whether it be his work orlove life. In contrast, when playing tennis for instance, Rick was always lookingfor an angle. He’d crouch behind the net ready to pounce or cut off anopponent’s serve, always looking to throw the server off his game.
Bud crossed over ontoMiami Beach, tooled around, passed the ballfield at Flamingo Park, eased by thepastel sidewalks taking him up to Ocean Drive and the fresh fruit juice standat 10th Street Beach. He parked by a curb directly in line with the juicestand, got out and crossed the sun-dappled street.
Glancing around, he tookin the cool tinge of fall blowing in from the ocean, fusing with the saltyscent of the water. The sun’s rays streamed through the fluffy clouds; thewaves rippled, beckoning the smattering of sunbathers to take a dip.
Everywhere Bud lookednothing had changed. Which included the sight of middle-aged women across theway in their flowery sun dresses, whiling away the hours on the patios of theirpink-stucco efficiency apartments; shuffling mahjong tiles; glancing over atthe white sands stretching off into the distance in hopes of spotting somelonely bachelor. It was all predictable. Even his paper, the Miami Herald andsource of his livelihood, discarded on the empty green bench, seconded the motion.
There was a photo ofPresident Eisenhower above the fold playing golf nearby at Jackie Gleeson’scountry club, and a sidebar noting the U.S. was gaining in the space race withthe Soviets.
Whatever Rick waschamping at the bit about had to be taken with the proverbial grain of salt.
As if in agreement, avoluptuous blond in a fuchsia bikini came into view, turned on the outdoorshower a few yards away, casually washed off the salt water residue on hershoulders, and winked.
Bud smiled back, checkedhis watch and gazed beyond the mahjong ladies to a gap in the row of efficiencyapartments at the end of the block where the weathered bungalow sat a few yardsback. The one with the fading sign fronting the bamboo porch railing that readWalk-ins Welcome: Services Unlimited.
He crossed over, hurriedpast the row of squat apartments, pivoted by the sign, noted the rear end ofthe rusty Studebaker sitting in the carport, and nodded. It was all thesame-old same- old promising more of the same. He bound up the steps, calledout “Hello?” opened the screen door and walked right in.
And, sure enough, thereRick was ready and waiting, sporting that signature Charlie Chaplin mustache,flowered short-sleeved shirt and white linen slacks. The first worrisomesignal, however, was his bleary, blood-shot eyes as he over-poured a carafe ofsteaming black coffee into a mug. He whipped out a handkerchief, plunked thecarafe and mug on the edge of the desk in the center of the room, and mopped upthe spill. At the same time, Bud took in the rest of the place and saw that ithadn’t changed a bit, starting from the girlie calendars on the walls, milkboxes full of paperbacks on the floor; the cluttered desk topped by a scuffedblack rotary phone, notary stamp, and the Smith-Corona typewriter flanked by ahat stand with a random display. To complete the picture, there was the rack ofglossy magazines so that Rick could keep up with the latest, plus a woodenperch that once accommodated a talking parrot on the near side of a shadedwindow and a sun-bleached deck chair.
Everything was the sameand not at all the same.
About the Author:Shelly Frome is a member of Mystery Writers of America, a professor of dramatic arts emeritus at UConn, a former professional actor, and a writer of crime novels and books on theater and film. He also is a features writer for Gannett Publications. His fiction includes Sun Dance for Andy Horn, Lilac Moon, Twilight of the Drifter, Tinseltown Riff, Murder Run, Moon Games, The Secluded Village Murders, Miranda and the D-Day Caper and Shadow of the Gypsy. Among his works of non-fiction are The Actors Studio: A History, a guide to playwriting and one on screenwriting, Fast Times, Big City is his latest foray into the world of crime and the amateur sleuth. He lives in Black Mountain, North Carolina.
Author website: http://www.shellyfrome.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorShellyFrome
Twitter: https://twitter.com/shellyFrome
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/shelly-frome-8a784029
Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1358660.Shelly_Frome
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Shelly-Frome/author/B001K8VQXQ
Banquets and Bootleg Bounty by Lily Barrish Levner #CozyMystery
Banquets and Bootleg Bounty Catskill Capers Book OneLily Barrish Levner
Genre: Cozy Mystery. Historical. Publisher: Neversink Press Date of Publication: Nov. 11, 2024ISBN: 979-8990895201ASIN: B0DM1JFPQSNumber of pages: 222Word Count: 50,000Cover Artist: Jaycee DeLorenzo
Tagline: A 1944 Cozy Mystery with a Dash of Mobster Gold.
Book Description:
It’s the summer of 1944 as Dotty and Abe arrive at the bustling Concord Hotel in the heart of the Catskill Mountains’ famous Borscht Belt. They are eager to start their new jobs as waitress and busboy but soon discover that serving demanding diners and dealing with unruly guests—including Abe’s impossible-to-please mother—is the least of their worries.
Rumors swirl that a notorious Murder, Inc. gangster has hidden a fortune in cash somewhere in the area. As Dotty and Abe are swept into the race to discover the whereabouts of the legendary loot, they find themselves dodging more than just grumpy guests. With dangerous characters lurking around every corner, the duo must stay one step ahead if they want to keep their future in the mountains from crumbling.
Will Dotty and Abe hit the jackpot, or will they become the next victims of a deadly game?
Fans of Dirty Dancing and The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel will love Banquets and Bootleg Bounty, the first in the Catskills Capers series by Lily Barrish Levner.
“Mrs. Maisel meets Agatha Christie in thisengaging debut!” ~New York Times bestselling author Wendy Corsi Staub
“This book is such a treat. Banquets and Bootleg Bounty is a fantastically funromp through the height of the Catskills with spot-on historical accuracy.Author Lily Barrish Levner gives readers a bird’s eye view of the dining roomsat the Concord, with a dash of romance and a side of danger. Grab a bowl ofmatzo ball soup and enjoy the ride!” ~ Meredith Schorr, author of As Seen on TV
“It’s really great that the golden era of the Catskills is remembered. Thisbook brought back a flood of memories.” ~Steve White, Concord tennis pro/ArthurWinarick’s great-nephew
“Lily Barrish Levner captures the Catskill Mountains of 1944 with love and longingfor a by-gone era in this triumphant debut. Banquets and Bootleg Bounty is moredelicious than Shabbat dinner at the Concord Hotel.”~ Marilyn Rothstein, authorof Crazy to Leave You
“If you want a taste of delicious food the Concord served to its guests whileexperiencing the thrill of a dining room mystery in the Catskills, it’s time toread Lily Barrish Levner’s debut novel, Banquets & Bootleg Bounty.”~ PattiPosner, author of My View From the Mountains
“Mystery meets History in this engaging debut!” ~ New York Times bestsellingauthor Wendy Corsi Staub
Excerpt- Week 1, Friday
Dotty
“That sure is afancy ride,” a passerby called and whistled while a black Buick Roadmasterrolled to a stop next to the curb on E. 167th Street.
Dotty fannedherself with one hand and clutched the handle of her large, olive-green bagwith the other. She was winded and shvitzing after she schlepped from herfamily’s third-floor walk-up apartment during a Bronx heat wave.
Cars zippedpast, and the elevated Jerome Avenue subway rumbled along the tracks. She said,
“Good riddance”to the concrete and brick buildings she was leaving behind. It was thrilling toescape the city heat for a couple of months.
Just last night,she had been surprised when Papa told her there was a seat available in thetaxicab. She planned to take the bus. She waved goodbye to the neighborhood,flashing a sunny smile over her good fortune. A hack was such a decadent way totravel to the mountains.
“The middle seatis open,” said the driver, rearranging luggage in the trunk.
A gentlemanstood outside the car so she could crawl into the center of the three-personbench seat. She rested her handbag on her lap and settled in for an adventure.“I can’t believe I’m going to the Concord!”
“Oh, the Concord,”the silver-haired woman sitting to her left said in a dreamy voice. “I’m goingto the Heiden Hotel in South Fallsburg.”
“I’m visiting myaunt and uncle at the Hotel Evans in Loch Sheldrake for the weekend,”volunteered the gentleman, who was back inside the car, sitting to her right.
“We’ve got onemore stop to fetch a wife staying at Sunny Oaks bungalow colony in SouthFallsburg for the next two months. Her husband won’t be in the mountains untilnext week,” the driver said, speeding off.
“Are we in a vaudevilleact?” Dotty asked a few minutes later. She watched the middle-aged womanbringing out suitcases, food, a lamp, an ironing board, dishes, pans, andsheets. It seemed she had packed her entire city apartment.
The driverhuffed and puffed as he tied a rope around the roof rack. The lamp wobbled, acasserole dish crashed, and a flock of pigeons hijacked a loaf of bread.
Once everythingwas loaded and everyone was seated, the driver was chatty. “It’s the first yearthe Concord has been open year-round.”
“I’ve heardwonderful things about it.” Dotty shimmied her shoulders, gazing at the sceneryroll by. “I’m one of the first waitresses under the new maître d’, IrvingCohen.”
The driverremoved one hand from the wheel to snap his fingers. “You are going to ahappening place. How’d you end up at Arthur Winarick’s masterpiece?”
“My papa saidyou can make real nice money in the mountains. So, I went to an employmentagency down in the Bowery. Since most boys are off at war, they are desperateto hire workers.”
“I’ve stayed atGrossinger’s. Never at the Concord,” said the gentleman heading to Hotel Evans.
“The Grossingersare the reason I have such a thriving business. They attracted the vacationersto the Catskills. People love to stay under Jennie Grossinger’s roof. Theydon’t call it the ‘Waldorf of the Catskills’ for nothing,” said the driver.
Dozens of peoplehad mentioned Grossinger’s to her after learning she would be waitressing inthe mountains. She pictured a stately hotel sitting on sprawling grounds.
The driversnapped his fingers again. “Here’s a little mountain history for you.Grossinger’s was the most lavish resort until your new boss, Arthur Winarick,cropped up with a fortune in hand. One night he couldn’t get a room at the Gbecause the hotel was booked. Right then and there he vowed to build a biggerand better hotel to lure the guests away. After the prior owner of the IdealHouse defaulted, he lucked out and acquired it. Renamed it and rebuilt it.That’s how the Concord started. There were thirty guests in the beginning andlook at it already—there are three hundred guests now.”
“It’s true.Grossinger’s has the name recognition, but the Concord has the finances,” saidthe woman heading to Sunny Oaks.
“Every buildingat the Concord was designed to meet Winarick’s vision of richness,” said theHeiden Hotel guest.
“Bet you didn’tknow that Winarick bought concrete and steel structures in their entirety fromthe 1939 World’s Fair. He also purchased a ferryboat at 125th Street anddismantled it for steel.
He didn’t haveto borrow a penny,” the driver said, veering to the left.
“How did he becomeso wealthy?” Dotty asked.
“Winarick was abarber during Prohibition. He’s one lucky son of a gun. On account of hisprofession, he had rights to alcohol, and his brother just so happened to be achemist. They set up a basement barber shop. Sold bootleg liquor on the sideand made a killing selling Jeris Hair Tonic—largely consisting of alcohol andperfume.”
“He’s a realclever man,” she said.The driver sang the jingle, “Jeris hits the jackpot forgreaseless good grooming and healthier, handsomer hair.”
She had highhopes that her pockets would soon be overflowing with tips and she would beable to buy Papa some of the hair tonic for his birthday.
“It’s hot in here!”shouted the wife in the front, fanning herself with a handkerchief.
“Roll down awindow!” shouted the gentleman in the back.
“The wind isblowing on me,” complained the wife.
Dotty raised herhand and caught the silver-haired woman’s pillbox hat before it flew out thewindow. The woman sighed in relief.
“Have youconsidered trying out for the Yankees with a catch like that?” asked thedriver.
She smiled andleaned her head back. She remembered the one time her family had stayed at theDelano Hotel in Monticello. She loved playing the pinball machine there.
About midwaythrough their trip, coasting on the narrow, two-lane Route 17 highway, the hackturned off and into the crowded parking lot of the Red Apple Rest. Dotty staredat the large red apple that sat on top of the roof as they waited for anoverheated car’s engine to spring back to life. Once the parking space opened,she sprinted under the multicolored striped awning.
Astonished bythe impressive roadside eatery, she surveyed the wide selection of hot and coldfood. Papa had told her the washrooms here were the nicest public onesanywhere. He had also said Reuben Freed, the owner, showed genuine care for hispatrons. The outdoor line for frankfurters and ice cream was long, so shesettled on a root beer soda pop from inside. She did not have an appetiteanyway. The lively waystation made her even more excited to reach herdestination.
They drovethrough Chester and Goshen. In Middletown, the traffic became bottlenecked onthe winding streets. From Middletown, they traveled back roads. At the bottomof the Wurtsboro mountain, the hack was so overloaded she feared they would notclear the hill.
Abe
Riveted by allthe billboards lining the country roads directing guests to the CatskillMountain resorts, Abe kept his nose pressed to the window. As the black BuickSuper wound through towns and villages that made up Sullivan County, he sawbungalow renters unloading their jam-packed vehicles and airing out theirsummer bungalows. They were his first glimpse of summer vacationers in themountains.
Arectangular-shaped building painted a buttery shade of yellow with brown trimcame into view. The Buick skidded to a halt in front of it, and the driversaid, “You can make a real comfortable living here. Arthur Winarick createdsomething special.”
Abe jerkedforward and his glasses slid down his face. It was a grand version of thearchitecture he was used to back in Brighton Beach. He counted the windows onthe four-story building that could stretch the length of three Brooklyn blocksas he crawled out of the back seat. He ran his eyes over the lush landscape,inhaling fresh mountain air, already filled with respect for this ArthurWinarick fella. Exquisite gardens and dense trees lined the pristine grounds. Crystal-clearKiamesha Lake, to the left of the main building, faced the perfectly maintainednine holes of the golf course.
Threeentertainers were wedged together in the backseat, surrounded by costumes andprops that would not fit into the overstuffed trunk. He retrieved his bag fromunder wigs, cards, and a top hat. “My pockets might not be full yet, but I’monly returning home once they are overflowing,” he vowed, waving goodbye to thefella behind the wheel who’d given him a lift to the mountains. He spent theentire ride memorizing every piece of advice he received, determined to make asuccess of himself with the fortuitous opportunities in front of him.
He threw hisshoulders back and held his head high. He fit right in. Back in New York City,the lack of men on the streets made him ashamed that people believed he was amalingerer not returning to war. The doors to the hotel were pulling him tosomething special. He followed the bustling bellhops and energized guests intothe lobby.
Luggage began topile up in front of the doorway while he waited for his room assignment in thestaff living quarters. An unassuming man wearing a white shirt, suspenders, andfaded pants hurried over to haul the suitcases to a corner, so Abe trooped overto help. He stacked suitcases one on top of another, presuming the man must bean older lobby porter and well-liked since everyone who passed by smiled hisway.
After theystacked all the suitcases, the man stuck his hand out. “Thank you. I canalready tell you’re a hard worker. I’m Arthur Winarick. Welcome to my hotel.”
His heartbeatdoubled its normal rhythm. He expected a sharp-dressed gonsa macher, not justan ordinary fella with thinning hair and lackluster clothing.
Already countinghis luck, he received his room assignment and trekked the short distance to thestaff living quarters, a separate hotel called the Colonial. It sat behind themain hotel where the guests stayed. The white-painted building reminded him ofan oversized bungalow. He let out a low whistle as he pushed into thefirst-floor room.
A boy with wavybrown hair and a polite smile said, “I’m Leon.”
Introducinghimself, he took the bed on the left since Leon had already chosen the one onthe right.
“Hello, Abe.Where did you travel from?”
“Brighton Beach.And you?” He inspected the empty drawers of the dresser. He omitted that he hadgrown up in Philadelphia, only moving to Brooklyn once his mother hadreappeared.
“I’m fromWarsaw. I escaped at the start of the war.”
Speechless, heunzipped his bag. He knew Poland was thousands of miles away and Leon’s journeymust have been dangerous. His childhood in foster care had been no picnic, butLeon’s life in Europe had presented greater challenges. He tossed a pair ofsocks into the drawer.
Leon continued.“I was working at a luncheonette in Manhattan, struggling to make a living,when I heard they needed help in the hotels. Can you believe I was completelyunaware that there were hills north of the city?”
He hadpreviously traveled to upstate New York, so he was familiar with thecountryside. He pulled more socks from his bag. “As soon as I heard about thehigh wages and all the luxuries that came with living in the mountains, Isigned up on the spot. I prefer this to being cooped up inside my stepfather’sgarment factory all day. I didn’t expect such a dandy space to call home forthe summer.”
“How come youaren’t enrolled in the army?”
He shifted hiseyes to the single window in the middle of the room. “They discharged me.”
Leon remainedquiet. His kind eyes encouraged Abe to say more.
“I was a drillsergeant in Miami until a doctor diagnosed my eyesight as too poor to continueto serve.” He returned from duty, at 19 years old, with his brunette hair ashade more golden, his skin tanned, and his muscles bulging from a year ofphysical activity under the Florida sun.
“There is noshame in wearing spectacles.”
He tapped the rim of his glasses. “My eyesight isn’t that terrible.”
Leon reached forhis checkered newsboy hat; his voice was friendly. “Ah, a Jewish doctor whodidn’t want to see another Jewish boy come home in a coffin.”
He raked hishands through his hair, swallowing hard. Here he was a young man in perfecthealth, while both of his brothers were still serving in the U.S Army. He neverwanted people to think he was less patriotic. His Ma’s words rang in his ears.“Abe-ala, this means I won’t lose all three of my boys.”
That comment hadstung.
“The Concord islucky to have you.”He snapped back to the present. “I have had the pleasure ofmeeting the owner already.”
Leon’s eyebrowsshot toward the ceiling. “Arthur Winarick? Making a good impression right awayis smart.” He pointed to his head. “I made sure to use Jeris Hair Tonic todayin case I bumped into him. That’s why my hair is so glossy.”
He scratched hisear, not admitting he did not understand the reference. “How come you speaksuch fluent English?”
“I had aneighbor back in Poland who was a diplomat and a resistance fighter. He taughtEnglish classes.” Leon placed the newsboy cap on top of his head.
Sprawled out onhis mattress, stretching his legs and wiggling his toes, Abe knew he had madethe right decision. And he was glad he had someone like Leon by his side. “Ifeel like a king.”
“There’stremendous potential.”
His smile spreadfrom ear to ear. “I think I can pave my own way up here.”
A whole newchapter was beginning.
Dotty
Dotty tried toread every single one of the hotel billboards cramming the landscape. When theyapproached the sign that said, “Turn Here to Concord Hotel,” she was jigglingher legs.
The Hotel Evansguest hollered, “Can you drop me off first?”
“I have specificdirections. She’s number one on the list.” The driver tilted his head toward thewoman en route to the Heiden.
At the firstdrop-off, Dotty could not take her eyes off the Tudor-style building as thedriver announced, “The Concord is the next stop.”
Now she couldnot sit still.
Minutes later,after zooming up the mountain, the driver said, “We’ve arrived. Good luck.” Hehanded her olive-green bag over.
“The Bronx hasno space that compares to this.” She gawked in awe at the size of the buildingnestled in rich grounds.
The yellow painton the exterior reminded her of their kitchen’s wallpaper at home. Oh, shecould not wait to tell Ma and Papa about this exquisite place. Her parents,Merke and Isaac, expected her to write to them all summer long. She would senda postcard soon.
She took amoment to smell the sweet floral scent from the colorful flower gardens beforeshe schlepped her bag through the entryway. People crowded the lobby, greetingeach other as long-lost friends. Some staff were new hires, like herself.Others were returning for another season in the mountains.
A helpfulbellhop tapped her on the shoulder. “I’ll carry your bag to the Colonial, whereyou’ll be staying.” He led her to another building.
She blinkedhard. “I get to live here? It’s an entire hotel!”
“Staff livingconditions like this certainly aren’t the norm. Nobody sleeps on a cot in acloset around here. Arthur makes sure we have the best.”
“I’m so luckythe Concord hired me.” She watched two fellas stride into the Colonial.
“It’s coed,”said the bellhop, winking.
She raised hereyebrows, never having stayed in co-ed living quarters. She stepped into hernew home. The blue and white floral wallpaper caught her eye. Her papa, whoworked as a wallpaper hanger, always made sure to do careful work. He would be pleasedwith the job done here.
Once she reachedher assigned room, she straightened her skirt and blouse. A striking girl withchestnut-colored curls appeared in the doorway. “I heard you thumping down thehallway.
Welcome. I’mEva. I’m a waitress in the main dining room. Do you play cards? How aboutpoker?”
She plopped herbag onto the ground and sat on the empty bed to catch her breath. “I’m awaitress as well. Yes, I love playing cards.” She ran her hands through herdishwater-blonde hair, wishing it had as much volume as Eva’s.
“I’m organizinga Sunday night game, after we collect our tips, of course.” Eva touched theopal heart-shaped stone hanging on a gold chain she wore around her neck.
“I’ll be at thetable,” Dotty promised. She would have to ask Ma for some hints since Ma playedcards every day on the Grand Concourse back home in the Bronx.
“Very good.We’ll be working hard, but don’t worry, there’s lots of time for socializing.”
She beganunpacking as Eva peppered her with questions. “Do you have experience waitingtables?”
“Oh, yes. Ilearned everything I know at the Lido Beach Hotel on Long Island. I spent aseason there before the Navy turned it into an amphibious base and dischargecenter. I worked at a resort in Far Rockaway and another one out in Lakewood,New Jersey, after that.”
Eva put herhands on her hips. “How old were you when you started waitressing?”
“14,” sheadmitted. “I told the man I was 17 and he told me to say 18.” She chuckled atthe memory. She had worn high heels and bright red lipstick, clomping down SkidRow to the employment agency in the Bowery. Today she was 18 years old and didnot have to fib about her age to work at the Concord.
“You’re an oldpro,” Eva said, sweeping her hand through the air.
“How long haveyou been waitressing?” Dotty, too, had questions.
“After Itraveled over from Germany, Arthur Winarick hired me. That was Pesach(Passover) two seasons ago.”
“Are you arefugee?” She placed her hand over her heart.
“Yes. I’m verylucky to be here. My German mom and British dad raised me in Southern
Germany. I’m anEnglish citizen. My parents wanted me out of Europe. They felt it was safestfor me to come over to the States. Arthur has a soft spot in his heart forrefugees. I landed at the right hotel.”
Glad about that,Dotty rested her head on the pillow, enjoying the comfort of her own bed forthe first time. She stretched out her legs and closed her eyes. “I’ve sharedthe sleeper sofa with my sister and listened to the Jerome Avenue train myentire life.”
“You’ve spentthe day traveling; a snooze before Shabbat dinner might set you right.”
She jumped backup and parted the curtains to gaze at the greenery. “I hope Irving Cohen isn’ttoo strict.”
Eva flung herwrist in the air. “People call him ‘King Cupid.’ How harsh do you think a manwith that nickname can be?”
“What if, sinceit’s his first summer in charge of the dining room, he’s extra tough?” She tooka deep breath.
“Bet you didn’tknow he was recently married. Consider him still in the honeymoon phase. Actconfident and you’ll do fine.”
“I’ve alwaysreceived compliments from my bosses. I’m not worried.” She bit her bottom lipand watched Eva study her reflection in a handheld mirror.
Eva had atwinkle in her eye. “Stay away from Hershel. He’s my bashert.”
Suddenly, Dotty cared a lot more about her appearance as she slipped into herwhite waitressing uniform. For breakfast and lunch, the two dairy meals of the day,the required dress code was yellow dresses and white aprons. The meat dinnerwas served wearing white dresses and white aprons.
Eva wiggled intoher uniform. “Don’t forget the trick is to stay ahead of everything and notlose control of your station. What are the three important terms to measuresuccess?”
“‘A breeze’means the meal ran smoothly, a ‘good meal’ needs no explanation, and a ‘bomb’means everything went terribly.” She spritzed Chantilly perfume onto her rightwrist. The fruity notes of orange blossom mixed with jasmine and other citrusesfilled their room.
“Very good. What’sthe worst thing you can do?”
“Anger the chef.I must wait until several guests ask for things from the kitchen. I want toavoid making too many trips back there.”
“What’s thesecond-worst thing?”
“I can’t gethung up, or I’ll never meet all the guests’ demands, and I’ll fall behind thekitchen’s schedule.”
“I don’t have totell you tips depend on how pleasant we are to guests and how quickly we feedthem.”
Thankful for all she learned that first summeron Lido Beach, and confident in her food-serving abilities, Dotty swung thedoor open. The same two fellas she had seen earlier were now exiting their rooma couple of doors down. They wore stark white jackets. I have a feeling this isgoing to be a very good summer.
About the Author:Lily Barrish Levner comes from a family that cherished books and learning—her mother was a schoolteacher, and her father was the director of the Monticello library, so it’s no surprise that storytelling has always been a part of her life. Growing up in Kiamesha Lake, New York, Lily spent her childhood sleuthing around the iconic Catskills resorts with friends and soaking up the vibrant atmosphere. Her grandparents worked in the resort industry, a connection that inspires her stories.
As a fourth-generation Jewish American, Lily deeply connects to the Catskill Mountains and the Borscht Belt, where her heritage and childhood memories blend. Her fondest recollections are tied to places like the Concord, Kutsher’s, the Pines, the Raleigh, and Sunny Oaks bungalow colony—sites that have left an indelible mark on her writing.
With a BA in Creative Writing and a Master’s in Library and Information Science, Lily has spent the past decade as a copy desk researcher at Bloomberg Businessweek while working on her novel and contributing monthly articles to the Hurleyville Sentinel. She currently lives in the Catskills with her husband and their dog, Gus, where the magic of the mountains still influences her work.
Stay tuned for the further adventures of Dotty and Abe when Book 2 of the Catskills Capers series is published in the summer of 2025.
Website: https://lilybarrishlevner.com/
Hurleyville Sentinel: https://hurleyvillesentinel.com/
A House with Bad Bones by Adeline Tatum #Poetry
A House with Bad BonesAdeline Tatum Genre: PoetryPublisher: Quillkeepers PressDate of Publication: 11/23/2024ISBN: 979-8-9891532-8-3Number of pages: 85Word Count: 4,555Cover Artist: Quillkeepers Press Tagline: A poetry collection that focuses on themes of childhood and religious trauma, love and loss.A House With Bad Bones is an eloquently penned poetry collection that focuses on themes of love, loss, childhood and religious trauma, and self-discovery.
Reflecting on past experiences, relationships, and mental health, to seek solace and understanding in the midst of turmoil and confusion.
The writing captures moments of vulnerability, longing, and resilience, painting a vivid picture of inner turmoil and the search for love and acceptance.
Amazon
Excerpt:
I was born in a house with bad bones. I was seven when I saw him push her through the door, breaking her arm in a cocaine-fueled rage. I was dismantled at a young age.
He was never really around, you know he's gotta be a man. He had gone out to get himself a brand new life with no room for me or his past. She wasn't ready for the flood that would hit our home, drowning herself in bottles of rum.
Perhaps nostalgia had began spilling secrets of the angry war vet she could never please as a little girl. I just don't know. I don't think I can blame her, though. Maybe she didn't know any better.
But in the end, it was these two who gave me life; who sealed my fate. Who made me think that love feels like a punch in the face, Begging and going after people who just don't care. It was they, who left me to wonder if I was invisible. A deprived little girl with self-esteem issues.
Was it worth it? I know when you die, you'll know finally know who I am. I know you'll swim in a sea of my tears. Maybe then you'll know I was real.
About the Author: Adeline is a poet who grew up in a small town in Illinois. She attended Kankakee Community College, pursuing a degree in Psychology, and is currently studying Creative Writing. She was first published in the 2022 winter issue of the literary magazine Sequoia Speaks. She since had been featured in several poetry anthologies including, Because I F*cking Said So, Harvest, and Sapling. https://www.instagram.com/poetdreams16/ .png)
January 10, 2025
A Bewitching Friday
Fast Times, Big City by Shelly Frome #HistoricalFiction #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/4jbVwTD
SPOTLIGHT - YA FANTASY - THE STORM DESCENDS (Demon Storm, #7) by Valerie Storm #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/40atb7D
Bud Palmer is in a bind as he finds himself at the crossroads where everything is on the vergeFast Times, Big City by Shelly Frome https://amzn.to/3W6VLps
SPOTLIGHT - POETRY - A HOUSE WITH BAD BONES by Adeline Tatum
#bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/3CaPbqT
"Why were you silent all this time? Why were there no killings in decades?”
He smiled and took a step forward. “Oh, there were. I just hid them well."
Excerpt from The Hunter's Daughter by Nicola Solvinic bit.ly/3YDcQHB https://amzn.to/48NTMdP
#nicolasolvinic #mysteryauthor #crimeauthor #thrillerwriter #criminology #criminologymastermind #crimefiction #crimethriller #crimenovels #detectivenovels #suspensenovels #thrillerbooks #murdermystery #mysteryseries #whodunit #mysteryreads #bookcommunity #mustread #bookrecommendation #bookish #booklovers #readinglist #bookclub #bestseller #newrelease
A House with Bad Bones by Adeline Tatum #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/40pWIf0
Follow the Wolf Pack and our authors on BlueSky!
This giveaway ends January 17. Note: Entries will be verified.
PRIZE: $50 Amazon GC https://forms.gle/JirggTaiKHP4uos27
A HOUSE WITH BAD BONES by ADELINE TATUM #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/4h3zjpH
As an Amazon Influencer, I earn from qualifying purchases #Amazon #ad #CommissionsEarned
January 9, 2025
A Bewitching Thursday
SPOTLIGHT - YA FANTASY - THE STORM DESCENDS (Demon Storm, #7) by Valerie Storm #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/40atb7D
Bud Palmer is in a bind as he finds himself at the crossroads where everything is on the verge
Fast Times, Big City by Shelly Frome https://amzn.to/3W6VLps
SPOTLIGHT - POETRY - A HOUSE WITH BAD BONES by Adeline Tatum
#bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/3CaPbqT
Grown Up Book Fair | Presented by Sloan Museum - After Hours
Saturday, January 18, 2025 | 6 - 8 p.m.
Sloan Museum of Discovery | 1221 E. Kearsley St. Flint, MI
Tickets: $5 per person
Featuring new and used books from local booksellers R & B Used Books, and other amazing vendors.
Make your own bookmarks, buy a new book to start, or bring an old book to finish!
Find a gift for yourself or for someone else!
Cash Bar with food, drinks and snacks available for purchase at the Coffee Beanery Café.
Bonus! The entire museum will be open to explore after hours!
$5/person at the door, or buy tickets in advance
https://www.facebook.com/events/11053...
Follow the Wolf Pack and our authors on BlueSky!
This giveaway ends January 17. Note: Entries will be verified.
PRIZE: $50 Amazon GC https://forms.gle/JirggTaiKHP4uos27
Praise for The Hunter’s Daughter: “Original and compulsively readable, The Hunter’s Daughter is a pagan treasure; dark, memorable and ultimately satisfying. Vivid and fast-paced, the story draws you in from the first page and never lets go.” - Scott Hawkins, author of The Library at Mount Char
The Hunter's Daughter by Nicola Solvinic from Berkley Publishing Group. Now available: https://bit.ly/3YDcQHB
#nicolasolvinic #thehuntersdaughter #mysteryauthor #crimeauthor #thrillerwriter #criminology #crimefiction #crimethriller #crimenovel #suspensenovel #thrillebook #murdermystery #mysteryreads #booklovers #bookclub #newrelease #bookreview
As an Amazon Influencer, I earn from qualifying purchases #Amazon #ad #CommissionsEarned
