Hello again! I'm hoping to make What Wakes the Heart (Cowbird Creek 4) available in about a month and a half, so it's high time I tried to whet your appetites for it. I also have a secondary purpose: I seek early reviewers! If I find any who like the book and don't mind being quoted, their kind words could end up on the back cover of the paperback edition, as well as on the book's Amazon and other pages.
So without further ado, here's an excerpt from Chapter 1.
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[Susanna Shepard has just graduated from a “normal school” (teacher’s college) in St. Louis, MO. The president (aka principal) has asked her to come see him to discuss some possible “good news.”]
She knocked, her breath coming short as she strained to hear any word from within. Almost at once, the door opened, and there he stood, smiling broadly, his gold tooth glinting. “Susannah, my dear! Come in and sit down. You may hang your bonnet on the peg.”
The suggestion further buoyed her spirits. Clearly Mr. Brecker had not invited her simply for a short social call, but had matters to discuss that would take some time. She would like nothing better than to follow his instructions, but he had hardly left room for her to enter. She searched for the words to say as much, but in a moment he stepped back enough for her to get by. Once she had hung up her bonnet as instructed, he waved her toward the chair at one side of his desk, then walked around behind her toward his own. Something brushed her hair as he went by. His waistcoat? But it had been buttoned snugly around his midriff.
Mr. Brecker sat down, the springs in his chair squeaking under him, and leaned toward her. “As I told you on Saturday, I have some news that should be welcome — though not surprising, for such an able scholar as yourself.” He paused, looking at her intently, and cleared his throat before he went on. “You may recall that my own sister is in charge of an excellent school in this very city, a school much prized by parents, to the point where they are happy to pay the fees necessary to maintain its quality and keep its facilities in good condition. There is rarely a vacancy among its staff, for none leave without pressing need, but it just so happens that one of the instructors is shortly to be married and will be departing.”
He paused again. Was he waiting for her to express interest? Her interest must be obvious. But she asked, as he appeared to wish, “How is this instructor to be replaced?”
He studied her, for what purpose she could not guess. “While the final decision will of course be my sister’s, she is naturally inclined to rely on my judgment. If I recommend you to her, I am confident your acceptance — and your future — will be assured.”
He would hardly have called her here and given her this news if he did not mean her to have the post. But he had not yet said as much. What remained for her to do or to say? “Indeed, sir, I would be very happy and grateful if you see fit to recommend me.”
He leaned back in his chair, pushed it a little ways back from the desk, and licked his lips. “Come here, my dear.”
She wrinkled her forehead, an action which suddenly reminded her of the lines in her mother’s face. “Sir, I am not sure what you mean.”
He stood up, passed behind her again, and shut the door. Then he came back and stood next to her chair, holding out his hand. “Your gratitude is to your credit. Gratitude is a virtue we teachers prize, when we have done well by our pupils.” As she sat looking up at him, he leaned down and picked up her right hand, pulling her upward. His hand felt warm and surprisingly soft. “I know you must be anxious to express it.”
Once before, or it might have been twice, Susannah had noticed men in the streets following her with their eyes, looking at her with something between need and greed. Mr. Brecker’s eyes held that look now. He pulled harder on her hand.
Susannah rose out of her chair — and moved away, tugging her hand free of his grasp. “Mr. Brecker, I would of course be grateful for any assistance you give me, so long as it is based on my merits. When would it be possible for me to meet your sister?”
He seized her hand again and pulled hard, so that her bosom touched his broad chest. “My dear, your maidenly reserve does you credit. But you must trust me to do what is best for you, to guide you.” He slid two fingers into her hair and drew out a strand. “So fine a color. I have always favored dark hair. And yours, my dear, shines like a blackbird’s wing. And your eyes are as green as the fields of heaven.”
She could feel the blood blazing in her cheeks as she shoved herself free. She must say something, but what could she possibly say? Had she misunderstood? But what could he possibly mean, but what it seemed?
She looked back at him, hoping to see confusion, or even hurt. But it was anger that narrowed his eyes and tightened his mouth.
Susannah backed away until she could feel the doorknob in her hands. Then she spun around, grabbed her bonnet with one shaking hand, yanked open the door, and ran down the hall, like a child running from some dread thing.
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Please email me at kawyle@att.net (best option) or comment below if you're interested in reading and reviewing this book as soon as it's ready!
I'll leave you with a repeat look at the cover.
Next time, an excerpt from the point of view of the young man on the left!
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