Falken's Wood
by Sara Beth Cole
ISBN: 1490316620
ASIN: 978-1490316628
Number of Pages: 183
Word Count: 57,000
Cover Artist: John Hoffmann at 640 Media Solutions
Blurb:After losing her mother, Regina Holler
moves to a small town with her estranged Aunt Liddy.
In between making soap and learning
about her peculiar family history, Regina stumbles across two brothers with
problems of their own.
Jason and Landon swear that the woods
she wanders through aren't haunted, but it seems the ghosts of Regina’s past
are set on colliding with the ghosts of Falken’s Woods.
Can you please share
with us a little about yourself?
Have you always wanted
to be an author?
When I was in
the third grade, my dad introduced me to a word processing program. That
was when I realized I wanted to be a writer. I would sometimes want to be
a teacher or something, but writing was something I've always loved.
Can you share with us
your typical writing day. Is there anything you have to have while writing?
I prefer
writing in the morning with my coffee. I write any time of day that I get
an opportunity, but I'm more productive before the kids wake up. I always
have a mug of coffee with me. It was a birthday gift from my children and
says "Shhh...Mommy's not coherent yet."
Most challenging or
rewarding part of writing?
I'm most
rewarded by the entire creativity process. I love learning about the
characters and watching how they would react in certain situations.
Sometimes I get so into it, I'll forget about everything I'm supposed to get
done for the day and just write until I fall asleep at the computer.
Can you please tell us
about your latest book?
Falken's Woods is a
Young Adult Supernatural novel. It's about a young girl who loses her
mom. Her aunt takes her in and she learns about her family history and hears
the local legends regarding the woods where she spends her time while trying to
deal with her loss.
How did you come with
the idea for this story?
I saw a cottage in
a commercial on TV that was covered in wildflowers. I don't know what
show they were advertising, but that cottage inspired the whole idea.
Can you share with us
your current work in progress?
It's another Young
Adult novel. It doesn't have ghosts, but it's about a woman learning
about a world full of supernatural and mythological creatures. It's quite
different than Falken's Woods. In this story, the main character is
supposed to free the supernatural races from the Fates.
Who are some of your
favorite authors?
I have a few of
them. I love Douglas Adams. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is
hilarious. I also read a lot of John Irving and Robert Jordan.
Do you feel that any
of your favorite authors have inspired your writing style?
I'm mostly inspired
by authors I read as a child and a teen. I loved Christopher Pike and
L.J. Smith so much that I still look at their book titles with fond memories of
enjoying their stories. I was also beginning to explore more of my own
writing back then. I think that's why I'm moved to write YA novels.
Open your book to a
random page and please reads us a few lines.
Okay, completely
random. This is from page 84
Aunt Liddy took me
to a small diner for a late lunch. The dining room was decorated with
tacky nautical trinkets. Starfish and seashells dangled in nets that hung
from the ceiling and several fish were stuffed and mounted on plaques that
covered the walls. A fishing pole above the counter hung a sign made of
driftwood with "The Galley" painted on it. Several booths were
filled with families while a group of older men bordered the counter.
What is in your To
Read Pile that you are dying to start or upcoming releases?
I was skipping
through the internet and found out that my daughter shared her uncommon name
with a book character. I, of course, worried what type of character she
was. So now, I feel the need to buy the Percy Jackson series and read
through them all to make sure Annabeth isn't the bad guy!
CHAPTER ONE
I raged silently in my loneliness,
staring out the windshield as we followed the marshy fields along the
coast. It might have been nicer if it
had been an ocean and not just a lake. I
used to love going to the beach near my home.
Now, I was going to be trapped in a world so different than my own.
My aunt’s house is further upstate in
a town that you couldn’t find on a map.
I was moving in with a woman I didn’t know in a town no one had ever
heard of. How’s that for
loneliness? I stared blankly out my
window, ignoring the bubbly hymns she sang softly as she drove. At least the emptiness of her town meant no
one would be calling and visiting all day and night, disturbing me while I
reveled in memories. I hate how people
think they’re your friend after you’ve suffered a tragedy, but were never
around when you truly needed them.
Aunt Liddy’s property bordered against
a forest on two sides. The closer side
of her yard lead to a cornfield. There
was a clear separation between her lawn and the shadowy woods as if the trees
and birds knew where the property line rested and wouldn’t dare to encroach on
her private residence. The two-story
farmhouse was weather-worn, but clean.
It reminded me of the old houses where monsters lived in horror movies. The wraparound porch boasted several chairs
and couches and even a dining set.
Nobody would keep their furniture on a porch back home. Nobody back home would eat on a porch,
either. I dreaded to see the interior.
“This house has been owned by our
family for four generations. My
great-grandfather built this house after he asked my great-grandmother to marry
him. Maybe one day, it will be your
house,” she watched me as she spoke, expecting a response no doubt. I just stared blankly out the windshield,
pretending not to hear her. There was no
way I’d live out here on purpose. Liddy
shook her head as if she could hear my thoughts.
The front door yawned open and we
walked inside. I gazed into my new
prison. Several windows filled the house
with natural light. Even on a cloudy
day, she didn’t need to turn on a lamp.
The furniture appeared worn and faded and the floorboards looked warped
and groaned under our feet. I eyed a
sagging couch that occupied the living room and wondered if the furnishings
were four generations old, too. I
expected the smell of mildew and moth balls to overwhelm me when I
entered. It smelled pleasant,
however. It reminded me of a gentle mix
of flowers and berries.
“You can take the bigger guest bedroom
upstairs. It’s the last door to the left,” Liddy instructed me. “The bathroom is right next to it if you want
to clean up. If you can’t find anything
or if you need fresh towels while you’re here, let me know.”
I opened the door to my corner guest
room and stared at it before entering.
The wooden floors and plaster walls were painted a repulsive olive green
and the mission style furniture seemed as if they were at least as old as Aunt
Liddy. The mattress sagged on the
decrepit bed. Two walls boasted bare
windows, letting in what little light they could, but it still seemed far too
bright.
I hesitated, unsure if I should bother
unpacking. She hadn’t told me how long I
would be welcome. Instead, I set my bags
on my bed and stared out the window toward the forest behind her house. Even in the heat of summer, the woods looks
cool and soft, inviting.
I had never even slept away from home
before, not that I found myself sleeping much at all these days. I was seventeen, I could have refused to come
with her. My voice had once again failed
me as she led me to her car. Instead, I
had silently watched in horror as she packed my things into suitcases and drove
me away from the only home I knew. I wanted to tell her that she had left so
much behind. She forgot things I couldn’t
imagine living without, even for a little while. I knew she wouldn’t let me go back and get my
things, so I silently mourned the loss of everything I couldn’t have.
Liddy appeared beside the doorway and
shook her head. “I’ll let you get
settled in today,” she sighed in a way that made me feel as though I would be
staying with her longer than I expected.
“But you need to get fresh air in those city lungs starting
tomorrow. There are a few deer trails
that lead into the forest and a big garden out back. I’ll show them to you later if you’re feeling
up to it. That wardrobe is empty so you
might as well use it.”
I carefully placed my clothes in the
drawers of the wardrobe, noticing it smelled faintly of cedar, and settled my
belongings in the room while learning my surroundings a little more. I took an inventory of the clothes she had
brought for me and what was left behind.
Once I finished, I showered and laid on the quilted bed and stared at
the hideous olive ceiling.
The house whispered and groaned as old
houses tend to do, but that was the only noise I could hear. At least now there weren’t dozens of people
invading my house, making themselves comfortable on my mother’s furniture as if
I had invited them into my seclusion. At
least here there were no intruders who refused to give me peace. I knew they thought they were helping. Some things that you think will help, won’t. Silence in a strange world was better than
invasion in my home.
“It isn’t bedtime yet, Regina,” Liddy
returned to my room and her mouth tightened into a thin line. I had been wrong about being left in
peace. I could tell by the tone in her
voice she was already frustrated with my mood, but that was unavoidable. “Come on downstairs and let me show you the
kitchen, I can give you a little tea that will help you feel a little
better. Maybe we can get that voice of
yours working again, hmmm?”
Liddy started heating water on her
stove for tea as I sat at the table in her eat-in kitchen. The floors throughout were a dark wood, but
the plaster walls had been painted a bright yellow with matching cabinets. I watched her with empty eyes while she
pulled mismatched teacups from the cabinets, found a small jar of honey on the
counter and placed it all on the table in front of me.
“I know what you are dealing with
right now is unimaginable,” she paused to stroke my hand affectionately. I expected her tanned skin would have
softened with age. Instead, her touch
felt similar to gritty sandpaper. I was
overcome with the urge to leave and go back home. I wanted to shudder at feel of the old woman’s
rough skin on my own. “I want to give
you a chance to heal, but healing means moving ahead, Regina. It’s not really considered living if you’re
holding so tightly onto past instead of living your own life. We’ll find you a way to occupy your thoughts
while you’re here in Foster.”
“It’s too soon,” I whispered without
looking into her eyes. Aunt Liddy seemed
surprised by my voice.
I know,
dear.・ She raised her voice over the
whistling teapot. Take your time, but not too much. The longer you stand still, the harder it is
to walk again.” I
sipped her dark, bitter tea that tasted like watery coffee, refusing the
honey. Only at that moment did I notice
exactly how small Aunt Liddy seemed when she sat beside me. She appeared so fragile and mild when you
just looked at her. But when she spoke,
her voice was strong, making her seem much taller, as if she might fill the
room by herself. Her graying hair hung
in loose curls down the center of her back.
Her eyes were the same brilliant green as my own, but her dark, leathery
skin made them appear even more vivid. By the time she had poured me a second
cup of tea, I realized I started to feel a little more awake, as if I was in a
dark room and the sun was beginning to filter through the windows. I finished the second cup and Aunt Liddy
smiled, displaying her own satisfaction.
While I felt more alert, it did nothing to put an end to my melancholy
mood.
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