STUCKEY’S LEGACY Sneak Peek

As I was writing “The Legend of Stuckey’s Bridge,” I came across the most amazing fictional character. He is eccentric, charming, rich, and good looking, mixed with a heaping tablespoon of psychopath. I am completely obsessed with him and his story. What if someone in the story is not as impressed with him as I? What if that person would rather see him dead?

unnamedThere is an undeniable sequel to “The Legend of Stuckey’s Bridge”  – “Stuckey’s Legacy: The Legend Continues” – available June 1st in paperback, Kindle, Nook, and iBook.

For my dear friends and faithful readers, here’s a sneak peek. It will give you a flavor of my new favorite psycho Levi.

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December 31, 1911 11:59 p.m.

“…five…four…three…two…one…Happy New Year!” the crowd chanted in unison and the orchestra began to play “Auld Lang Syne.” Balloons fell from the ceiling and confetti was tossed from the mezzanine. It fluttered to the floor, covering couples who clung together on the ballroom’s massive dance floor. Wine flowed and lovers kissed, and twenty-two-year-old Levi stood off to the side, sipping his champagne, observing the festivities with a mixture of apathy and loathing.

A gentleman in a crumpled tuxedo, heading toward the bar, staggered by him and nodded. Levi coldly nodded back, hoping the intoxicated man wouldn’t stop to chat. He was here to observe and mingle, not to spend the evening listening to a slurring drunkard. It had taken him a decade to get into this elite circle and he wasn’t going to let some sot spoil it. He downed the remaining liquid, plopped his empty champagne glass on the nearest table, and quickly moved across the room.

Following a magnificent dinner of pheasant and turkey in the Grand Dining Room, he had thus far spent the evening strolling around the luxurious Jekyll Island Club, chatting with people with familiar surnames—Firestone, Carnegie, Rockefeller, Vanderbilt. He introduced himself to them as Levi Temple, a business partner of the late Cornelius Bliss.

Temple wasn’t his real name, though he had been using it for the last ten years. Most people in his hometown of Meridian, Mississippi, would remember him as Levi Stuckey, the boy who’d mysteriously disappeared following the hanging of his father from the iron rails of Stuckey’s Bridge. His father was Thomas Stuckey. He wasn’t Levi’s real father, but when someone back in those days assumed he was, Levi never bothered to correct them. As a matter of fact, Stuckey wasn’t that man’s real name, either. He took it from one of his victims, a man named Carter Stuckey. Carter Stuckey had spent the night at Thomas’s inn on his way to deliver a trunk to Vicksburg—a trunk full of gold. Not many visitors ever left that inn, especially visitors who carried great wealth. Carter Stuckey fit that description, meeting his demise for being a deliveryman. Thomas Stuckey never got to enjoy the gold he stole, though. He was strung up for murder before he even viewed the sparkling contents of the trunk.

Following Thomas’s hanging, twelve-year-old Levi disappeared with the trunk. He took a horse and wagon and rode away from Meridian with the trunk, and he didn’t leave a trace.

After he fled, he dropped the name Stuckey so he’d never be associated with Thomas, Carter, or the missing trunk of gold. He considered taking back his given name, but he didn’t want to be linked to the sack of crap who owned that name, either. It had been so long since he’d used his real name, he could barely remember what it was. So, after a quick deliberation, he took the name of the only man he’d ever trusted, the sheriff of Lauderdale County—J.R. Temple. Yes, Temple was a good name, a good name from a good man. Levi always felt a tinge of remorse for disappearing and leaving Sheriff Temple to wonder what happened to him, but at the time he didn’t have a choice. He deserved more in life than a stolen name and a tainted past with murderers, drunks, and whores. The gold could give him the future he wanted.

Since the moment he left Lauderdale County, Levi had spent every waking hour infiltrating the inner circle of high society, and as of tonight, he had finally arrived. So far, this seemed a very good place to be. He sipped imported sparkling champagne as he socialized with gentlemen in expensive tuxedos, beautiful women adorned with exceptional jewels, and even a few servants who scurried around catering to the social elite. Though he wasn’t born into this circle, and he thought most of them idiots who were beneath him, he felt at home here. He was finally receiving the respect he deserved.

As the orchestra struck up a lively ragtime tune, Levi walked toward the patio door to step outside and get a breath of fresh air. His heels clicked on the marble floor as he passed velvet chaise lounges and crystal chandeliers. The leaded-art glass was a sight to behold and the classical details of the mansion were breathtaking. He would have a house this fine someday.

He found the patio alit with lanterns and twinkling holiday lights, flanked by sweeping staircases that led down to the beach. The half moon shone brightly in the winter sky, and an ocean breeze rustled through his dark blond hair. He closed his eyes for a moment and enjoyed the gentle wind on his face. He took a deep breath of the ocean draft. It smelled like fresh linen hung on the line. He opened his eyes and looked around. Baskets filled with late-blooming roses were spaced intermittently around the cement patio. Other than the fragrant flowers, he found the patio nearly empty. Everyone was inside on the dance floor celebrating the arrival of the new year. Everyone except that brunette he had been eyeing all evening.

He had noticed her hours earlier, the moment she entered the front door. She was petite but floated into the room like she owned the place, all willowy with a smoky air about her. Her charcoal-lined eyes were dark and seductive, hiding playfully behind the rim of her extravagant black velvet hat. When she walked, the long, white ostrich feather on top of her hat danced with each step. He found her movements intoxicating.

She wore the most luxurious mink stole he had ever seen, and when she removed it, she looked like a Grecian goddess. Her empire-waist dress flowed to the floor, the black velvet bodice cut low enough to make every man in the room stop and stare. The black fan she fluttered in front of her face made her even more exotic. Levi had attempted to approach her a few times throughout the evening, but she was always surrounded by admirers and he couldn’t get close enough to utter a single word. Out here on the patio, she was again with a gentleman.

Levi stepped to the edge of the patio and placed his fingers on the railing. She had her back against the railing, being courted by some wealthy boy in a man’s suit. Levi snickered. These rich boys don’t know how to seduce a woman, he thought. They think they can have anything they want, including a woman, simply because their fathers gave them money.

He remained still and looked out to the sea. The moon illuminated a path of white on the dark water. The reflection went all the way to the horizon. He absentmindedly reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his silver lighter. He flipped it open and closed over and over with one hand. He kept stealing glances to his left at the couple, wondering if he should interrupt them. The rich boy stumbled forward a little, almost falling onto the woman. He seemed to be more than a little drunk. Levi held his breath and waited for the woman to say something, hoping he’d be able to tell whether or not she needed him to intervene.

When she spoke, her voice had a deep rasp with the slightest Southern drawl. Why did that not surprise him? He felt a stirring in his loins and glanced again at the couple.

“Mr. Goodyear, I’m flattered by your attention, but don’t you think we should be going back inside now? Your friends are surely looking for you.”

The boy caught his balance, stood up straight, and countered, “No, they’re not looking for me. They’re having their own fun…just like we should.” The boy leaned in for a kiss, but the woman turned her face to the left and looked directly into Levi’s eyes. She smiled faintly.

It was not the plea of a woman needing assistance that he’d been expecting to see. The expression he saw on her face was one of confidence and power. This woman didn’t need his help. She was more than capable of fending off a drunken suitor. Levi watched her as she scowled and playfully pushed on the boy’s chest to back him away.

“Really, Mr. Goodyear, that’s enough for now.” She pushed harder on his chest.

The boy shrugged and mumbled something Levi couldn’t make out. The woman pulled her fur around her shoulders and narrowed her eyes at Levi, suggesting he should mind his own business. She turned the boy toward the open doorway, tucked her arm into the crook of his elbow, and led him toward the ballroom. As the two made their way to the door, a woman’s bloodcurdling scream came from the direction of the beach.

Levi and the couple turned toward the ocean, attempting to see the source of the screaming through the palm trees that lined the patio, but it was impossible. The screaming continued. People began streaming out of the ballroom, asking what was going on, and men sprinted down the stairs on both sides of the patio, hurrying toward the sound.

Levi turned and looked at the alluring woman, whose young suitor had left her standing alone while he joined the other men heading to the beach.

She stared into Levi’s eyes with no expression.

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Just for kicks, I think this is the woman Levi was watching, and I think she’s going to be trouble with a capital T.penny fisher

Lori Crane Books at Amazon

Reflection

I’m taking a moment to reflect upon our current and tragic family events.

FoDog2 smlA couple years ago, my daughter brought home a boy. She described him as, “He’s Chinese and he’s wearing a Detroit Lion’s jersey.” I fell in love with him the moment I met him, and him being Chinese with a lion on his chest, I immediately adopted him as my Foo Dog. Foo Dogs have traditionally stood guard as the protectors of palaces and tombs. They are powerful and fearless. This boy carried those traits. I knew my daughter was in very good hands, and I could tell by her face, this boy was The One.

A few months later, she called with troubling news. The Foo Dog had before suffered from Hodgkin’s Lymphoma and was in remission. The words no thirty-year-old should hear once, much less twice – the cancer had returned. I would like to say my daughter did some deep soul searching before deciding to continue the relationship, but there was no choice, they loved each other and wanted to spend the rest of their lives together, whether that time be 3 months, 3 years, or 30 years.

They were engaged April 2013 and planned a November wedding, but in September his health began to deteriorate dramatically. The treatments were doing as much harm as good, and cancer is a cold and calloused bitch. Reluctantly, the wedding was cancelled only a few weeks before it was to occur. Thanksgiving and Christmas were spent with him suffering through yet more treatments and pain and drugs. January crawled with trips to the hospital for treatments to ward off the side effects of the initial treatments. We didn’t know if his rapid decline was due to the disease or the treatment or a combination of the two, but in the last few months, she took care of him twenty-four hours a day, hoping for a good day, praying for some good news, wishing for anything positive. I am awed and humbled by her strength and love for him. These two young people deserved so much more than what they received from the universe.

On February 8th, he was admitted to the hospital with dangerous, life-threatening numbers, and a week later, he was admitted into hospice. We stood vigil at his bedside night and day and were with him as he took his last breath at 10:30 p.m. on February 24th.

He was without a doubt the bravest man I’ve ever met. He faced the disease without a blink of fear, every setback without complaint, every failed treatment with “We’ll find another way.” He was intelligent and handsome and kind, but more than that he was powerful and fearless. He was my Foo Dog. Godspeed my dear one.

Trien Duong 

June 15, 1981 – February 24, 2014

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FREE FREE FREE AUDIOBOOK

Hi everyone!

Last month, I released my book Okatibbee Creek on audiobook at Audible, Amazon, and iTunes. It was narrated by the talented and fabulous Margaret Lepera. Audible has granted me a few FREE copies and I would like to give them away to you!

Please read the blurb below and and check out the sample at Audible – click HERE. If you find the story fits your taste, shoot me an email at LoriCraneAuthor@gmail.com and I’ll send you a FREE download code. I have ten to give away, so hurry up and be the one of the first ten to send me an email. I only ask that you rate it on Audible when you’re done listening. I only have one rating over there so far, and it looks pretty lonely. 😦

51QeOBe26zL._SL500_AA300_PIaudible,BottomRight,13,73_AA300_Blurb:

In the bloodiest years of our nation’s history, a young mother was left alone to endure the ravages of the Civil War and a typhoid epidemic that threatened the lives of everyone left behind.

Okatibbee Creek is based on the true story of Mary Ann Rodgers, who survived the collapse of the Confederate dollar, food shortages, and the deaths of countless family members to war and disease. As she searched for a way to feed her children and her orphaned nieces and nephews, Sherman’s Union army marched through Mississippi on their way to destroy Meridian, and Mary Ann found the distant war literally on her doorstep.

Help arrived just in the nick of time in the form of an unexpected champion, and Mary Ann emerged on the other side a heroic woman with an amazing story.

Okatibbee Creek is a tale of historical fiction that brings the Deep South vividly to life and will have you cheering and crying through a real-life story of loss, love, and survival.

UPDATE FEBRUARY 11: I still have one more copy if you’re interested. LoriCraneAuthor@gmail.com

Reviewers Who “Got” It

imagesIf you’re a writer, you’ve had to endure reviews. Sometimes you’re pleasantly surprised by a five-star only to be confused by a comment like “It’s okay if you don’t have anything else to read.” Sometimes you’re saddened by a one-star that strangely says something like “It’s okay if you don’t have anything else to read.” Huh? Usually reviews are flat comments like “I liked it,” or “I didn’t like it,” and nothing more. But, there are the occasional reviews that show the reader understood what the writer was trying to say. No matter the rating; the reviewer “got” it!

I wrote a story based in Mississippi during the Civil War called Okatibbee Creek. It was about Mary Ann (my third great grandmother) and how she grew up with fourteen siblings. Most of those siblings had eight/ten/twelve children of their own, so it was a HUGE family. By the middle of the book, the Civil War and typhoid fever decimated them, killing a majority of her family members in just one year. The family went from nearly 100 members to a scant handful. Mary Ann ended up without her parents or husband, taking in her orphaned nieces and nephews with no means of supporting them, trying to survive alone during the hell of war. She had never been alone before, seriously ALONE.  I wanted the reader to have a sense of where she came from and what the war and disease had done to her, so they could feel her isolation, her panic, her sadness. Most of the poor reviews complain that there are too many family members, too many names. They don’t get it.

Here’s a review from someone who “got” it…

Loldog-funny-pictures-you-got-it-babe“This book is fascinating. For those of you that haven’t, it’s a glimpse into the mystery and fascination of finding your roots and imagining the life of your ancestors. I couldn’t help but wonder how a long dead relative felt when 3 of her 7 children died on the trail west. Or the first grandchild perishing as a baby along the Columbia River in Oregon. What kept these pioneers feeling that the trek was worth the pain? Yes, there are a lot of names. Start a family tree and enjoy the story. It’s just what I would have wanted to write about my family.”

The unlikely birth of a new writer

Rodgers, Mary Ann Rodgers Carpenter JollySometimes people ask me when and why I started writing.

I usually tell them about the road trip my trophy husband and I took to Mississippi and the hour we sat at the foot of the grave of my 3rd great grandmother. I told him all about her life and her struggles during the Civil War, and he said, and I quote, “You should write a book.” Yes, her life was amazing, and yes, I did write the book. It became Okatibbee Creek and was followed by two sequels, An Orphan’s Heart and Elly Hays. Then I began working on a crazy Southern legend I grew up with. It became The Legend of Stuckey’s Bridge, and I am currently finishing the second in the trilogy, Stuckey’s Legacy.

But the journey started long before that. I just got a little sidetracked.

About six months before the Mississippi trip, I had a dream. There was a man and woman who were trying to get to their wedding ceremony and everything under the blue sky fell in their path to stop them…including death! But, they loved each other so much, even death couldn’t keep them apart. The dream was both frustrating and deeply emotional, and the end froze me in my tracks. I woke at 4:00 a.m. in a cold sweat with my heart pounding. I ran downstairs and wrote down the story and was still writing when the sun rose.

Often, a dream will cease to make sense in the light of day, but when I related the story to my trophy husband, he said, “That’s a good story; you should write a book.” The next day, I told the story to my daughter who said, “I just got goosebumps; you should write a book.” Later that evening at dinner, I told the story to my son who said, “Wow! You should write a book.” On the way home from dinner, we passed a billboard on the side of the freeway. It read, “PUBLISH YOUR BOOK.”

Okay, okay, I get it!!! Stop yelling at me!!!

I’ve spent the last two years navigating the self-publishing industry, and I’ve won awards for Okatibbee, Orphan, and Elly. I was best selling with Elly sitting at the #1 spot in Native American stories on Amazon for short minute. I’ve even reached #23 of the Top-100 Historical Fiction authors on Amazon, so I guess I’m doing the right thing, and I’m glad the universe yelled at me.

Long story short, the rough draft of the dream that started it all has been collecting dust in my computer for two years, and last fall I felt the need to finish it. Since I write Southern Historical Fiction, I placed my star-crossed lovers in the 1930’s in Biloxi and New Orleans. It’s the most current era I’ve ever worked in, and it was a pleasure for my cast to have telephones and automobiles for a change.

bluebird_small webSavannah’s Bluebird will be released February 28, 2014 on Amazon Kindle. Paperback, iBook, and Nook will follow shortly after. I hope readers like Savannah and enjoy the twist the story takes. I want them to say, “Hey, wait a minute!” and feel the need to flip the pages back and re-read from a different perspective.

Lori’s Amazon Authors Page

Help! I have FREE audiobooks to give away!

 

51QeOBe26zL._SL500_AA300_PIaudible,BottomRight,13,73_AA300_I have a dilemma, and I bet you amazing people have the answer.

In December, I released my book “Okatibbee Creek” as an audiobook at Audible, Amazon, and iTunes. (If you want to know anything about the process, drop me an email, and I’ll fill you in on the details. It was fun and painless.)

My dilemma is Audible just emailed me a bunch of download codes to give away FREE copies.

I need some ideas on how to give them away. Any thoughts on sweepstakes, contests, etc.? Even the simplest idea could spark my imagination, so please let me know what you would do with these.

Thanks in advance for your brilliance and insight!!