Please accept my sincerest appreciation for your lovely reviews of my newest story. The launch yesterday went well. Today, Amazon stuffed my book into a bizarre category for me – British & Irish Plays & Dramas. What? It pushed me to #1 for New Releases in that category and placed me in front of JK Rowling but… my book is not a play. Amazon said they should have it changed within the next 72 hours. I had to laugh.
Stevie Zimmerman has completed narration of the book. We are waiting on Audible to approve the files. They are seriously backed up so we shall see how long it takes.
In the meantime, for those who have read “The Long Journey Home”, I thought you might enjoy this deleted scene:
Simon Glenhart had been the sold proprietor of a small haberdashery by the docks for the past thirty years. Within a glance, he could tell whether a customer was there to browse or to make a purchase. When Madame Vartan pushed open the door before her husband could reach for it, Mr. Glenhart knew who that she would be the one he needed to please.
Without hesitation, the woman placed a shiny gold coin on the counter then began listing all that his staff would need to gather within 45 minutes; the time the matron allowed before the threesome would walk back out the door.
As her husband, followed by a young lad, perused the tools and weapons in the back room, the lady had bolts of fabric pulled from the shelves, measured, cut, and folded. Searching through the readymade garments hanging from pegs on the wall, she pulled down heavy coats and other outerwear in sizes fitting each of the three of them. Yarn, thread, needles, pins, two thimbles, hair pins, three combs, one brush, a heavy iron skillet, two pots (one small, one large), tins of spices and blended tea, sharp-edged knives, enough tableware for six, three heavy quilts, six pairs of gloves and heavy stockings, and three hats were added to the growing pile.
As the man and boy moved in her direction, she gave her head a shake, sending them to where he had large trunks stored. With careful packing, the one her man chose would easily hold their purchases.
That was until she found the books. Giving only a quick glance to the titles, she tasked Mr. Gerhart with choosing a selection of interest to a young lad. A slate. graphite pencils, ink, paper, and quills were pulled from the glass display.
“Come with me,” the lady whispered so only the proprietor could hear. “I have something special I require.”
As his staff wrapped the items and stored them in the trunk for shipping, she moved toward the shelf next to where the few clocks he had in his possession were to be found. Pointing to a round item that could be held in the palm of a man’s hand, she directed me to give special attention to how it was packed.
As a man of business, I knew it was not my place to pry. Yet, I could not help but ask its purpose.
The look she gave that young boy warmed the store owner’s heart.
“With that,” she pointed at the compass, “he will always find his way home.”
Exactly twelve minutes later, the three of them left the building. Two hired men carted their trunk to their waiting ship.
Simon doubted he would ever see them again. But he would not forget them any time soon.
