PTSD Explored in Extraordinary Drama, The Impossible Knife of Memory by Laurie Halse Anderson

 

“Me,” I said. 

“You,” he confirmed. The marching band started playing the theme from the latest Batman movie. 

“Why didn’t you just ask me?” 

“I was afraid you’d say no.”

“What if I say no right now?” 

“Do you want to?” I watched the band move in and out of their formations.

“I haven’t decided yet.”

 “You could sit and eat while you’re thinking about it,” he suggested. We sat on the blanket, the cheeseburgers, fries, and flowers a border between us, watching the little kids and the band until halftime was over. It was marginally less awkward when the game started again, if only because there was so much to mock. Finally, the ref blew his whistle and it was official. The Belmont Machinists had lost their sixth game of the season and I had no idea what would happen next. I didn’t know what I wanted to happen next. The stadium slowly emptied; the families on the hill gathered their kids and shepherded them toward the parking lot, and soon we were the only ones left. 

“Okay, here’s the tricky part,” Finn said. “The security guard is going to walk by to see if anyone is up here partying. I’m pretty sure we’re far enough away that he won’t be able to see us, but we should lie down for ten minutes or so, to be safe.”

“That is the lamest attempt ever to get a girl on her back,” I said.

~~~

I hitch a ride back to the outpost in a truck filled with ammunition, pork chops, and two guys from Bravo Company. Private first class Mariah Stolzfuss drives, telling me about Jaden, her dancing toddler in Arkansas. We follow a Humvee that is filled with boys barely enough old to shave. A star goes supernova in the middle of the road. We fly. Wingless birds. Shock waves ripple through metal, glass, and flesh. Bone crumbles. Skin explodes. Nerves snap. Brains slosh and spill in dented tin skulls. Arteries spray like high-pressure hoses, painting the world a bright, sad red. I swim through the smoke. Private Stolzfuss still sits behind the wheel. I wipe the blood off her face to find her mouth, make her breathe. She doesn’t have a mouth. She doesn’t have a face anymore. Boys pull me away, strong boys with faces and mouths. They help me sit in the dust and try to get Private Stolzfuss out of the truck. Her arm comes off in their hands. Her blood trickles, drips. Her heart exploded in the middle of her story. In Arkansas, her son dances, waiting.

~~~

I didn't realize the complexity of this story until much later... Perhaps that is the way in life, when we notice a much louder member of the family, even in a book. For surely, this is about Hayley, a teenage girl who has just entered school--for the first time--in her teens... I quickly became engrossed into "her" story, so much so that, when the lives of other characters seemed to erupt out of nowhere, I was confused... As I think about it now, that really doesn't make sense, does it? There are always many other characters besides the main one, yet, that's what happened...

Family life is always much more complex and confusing than many outside of the family will ever know... Unless one or more chooses to make their "issues" come alive outside of the walls in which they live...but...silently cry at nights, alone, even surrounded by the family who supposedly are those who love you, who make you feel safe... who place their children before themselves at all times...   NOT...

Laurie Halse Anderson made an impression on me when I read my first book of hers. Speak - Check out my post!

Now, in The Impossible Knife of Memory, age 15+, she has once again amazed me in her very real awareness of interpersonal relationships within and without the family unit. She then has a unique ability to find the rhythm, the words...and the guts to share her understanding of what is real and important to most of us...

Hayley Kinkaid and her father move back to a town where they once lived. Her father told her he felt that she should begin going to school now... There was at least one girlfriend that remembered Hayley so that she had a friend to at least be with her as she tried to adjust to interacting with the zombies and freaks that she was meeting daily.  

The halls surged with a parade of beautiful strangers. They laughed too loud. Flirted. Shrieked. Raced. They kissed. Shoved. Tripped. Shouted. Posed. Chased. Flaunted. Taunted. Galloped. Sang. Fully assimilated zombies. I could laugh at them when I was with Gracie. 

When I walked through their herd in the east wing hall—alone—I was transformed from my confident freakself into a gawping pile of self-conscious self-loathing. Their shiny-teeth smiles made happiness look easy. They never tripped over their own feet. They could laugh without snorting and tease each other without sounding dumb. They could remember being six years old together and eight and eleven and giggle about all of it. The flaunts, the taunts, the poses, they were all part of the lie. 

My brain understood this because I’d heard the whispers. The Honor Society officers who started their day off with a little weed that melted stress like chocolate. The cheerleaders who cut themselves where the scars wouldn’t show. Debate team members busted for shoplifting. Mommy’s pills being shared like cookies, and the way Daddy’s vodka made first-period Latin fly by. As I walked down the east wing hall, I could feel their sticky fingers reaching for my brain. Puffs of yellow smoke curled toward my ears, my eyes, my nose and mouth. The hivemind wanted to penetrate and infect. Colonize. The danger was so real, so close, I didn’t dare open my mouth to ask directions. Or to howl.

~~~

Her choice of adjectives never really jelled with me...Yeah I get the zombies, but are there really that many of either? So the Urban Dictionary says that we should stay away from freaks in public...so.... there's that... Anyway, there is little interaction between Hayley and others in school, except for the four who become close friends...

The trick to surviving an interrogation is patience. Don’t offer up anything. Don’t explain. Answer the question and only the question that is asked so you don’t accidentally put your head in a noose.

~~~

Yes, there really is a guy who finds Hayley attractive, even though she didn't know what exactly to do with the growing relationship... That's alright, because I think that is true for most school students, even if they have had more experience in dealing with it... Unfortunately, Hayley's father was adamant about her getting into a normal living situation... 

To make matters worse (was that possible?), I wasn’t exactly sure what I wanted with Finn. Did I like him? My opinion about that changed several times a day. Did I want him to like me? Ditto. How could I like him, how could he like me, if we didn’t know each other? The little I was able to learn about his family (perfect, middle-class people, apparently) make me pretty sure that he’d run screaming if he ever met my father. That would be a logical reaction, of course, but did I really want to fall in love (fall in “like”?) with someone who didn’t give my dad a chance? We had to get to know each other. Gradually. Baby steps. In order to do that, we’d have to break down and talk about things that were more significant than font size in online newspapers and his fevered delusions about his time studying telekinesis with a group of monks in a Himalayan ice cave. I had no idea how to do that.

~~~ 

Hayley's mother died when she was very young. Because of money issues, her dad chose to take her with him as he drove trucks across the nation, home teaching her well enough that she, perhaps, was more educated than most of the zombies who were dead-walking through high school... It was fun for readers to watch as she encounters teachers, students, and, the reality of public schools, including, yes, drills for shutdowns due to possible shootings! Of course, the latter not fun, but it was, she thought, a possible reason to tell about and hopefully convince her father that she should not be forced to attend school--she had done fine with him teaching her what she needed to know...

Trish is also an important character for Hayley, since she was a "step-mother" who live with Hayley and her father for a short period... The thing was, she left... and Hayley had learned to hate her--for leaving her--and her father... When she came back, it was difficult for Hayley to see her in their new home and, later, to hear that her father had asked her to come--and why!

What was fascinating in the book was that in every single family of her friends--of her three friends--together with Trish and her father... They ALL started sharing about the troubles being experienced and negatively affecting their lives! So, you might stop as a reader and think...Is This Really America where so Many Families are in Distress Over Things Like Drugs, Sex, Money, Violence, et.al.? Or is this just another author writing a fictional novel for entertainment? Thing is, Anderson's books are, perhaps, too real to be entertaining... Perhaps, compelling is a better word...

And suddenly we know why Laurie Haise Anderson's novels and nonfiction books are not only well-read...but also, by some, designated to be banned--for those who don't want to have their children aware that there is so much turmoil in family lives today...that they don't want, even more, specific information about what their children might be facing in schools...or, worse, what their children might be doing at any given time...

And that's why I'm recommending that White Parents Start Reading books that speak to the lives that teens are experiencing in today's world... Else, plan on those White teens who are acting based upon incitement of white supremacists and other cult-like groups...and, worse, getting OFF from murder when they come before biased judges! And contrary to what some may think, that is NOT a good thing when somebody who is guilty is, instead, found not guilty--just because of who they are...

We MUST work to teach love instead of hate against those different by virtue of race, religion, or in any other way! Else, our country's democracy will not stand... If you cannot see how this division has been created by those who are White and seek Power over all others... You Do Not See America As It Now Is! Take the time to read the books that your children want to read...Don't Ban them because of content...Believe me, they are hearing and seeing and talking much more within their peer group members! And, if you don't believe that Rittenhouse, for instance, a 17-year-old boy not yet old enough to carry an assault weapon, who crossed state lines with it...and murdered people,  should have been punished for what he did! Then, just think about what God has Said... Love Your Neighbor...That includes people different...from...YOU... And those who love do not need, or want, assault weapons because they are "cool..." (Rittenhouse got a gun purchased for him by an older man...)

PTSD of those who fought in the military is NOT being properly addressed. Hopefully, the changes and funding for veterans will improve this problem.

However, the needs of the families who have been affected by what has happened to their parents or spouses is often not as apparent--unless somebody like Laurie Halse Anderson, is willing to speak out and make the specific concerns that arise-- and dramatically demonstrate their effects--then we fail to help our children live within the chaos that is now known, even more so than in past years, by helping them to first understand...and... prepare to help if and when that need may arise... This is a Must-Read, especially for families of those who have family members in the armed services...

God Bless,

Gabbie 

AMBUSH - Next in Series by Barbara Nickless - Produces WOW Effect!

The call came late on an August evening while Jeremy Kane was upstairs, rocking his infant daughter. When the phone buzzed, Kane shifted Megan in his arms and pulled his cell from his pocket. An out-of-state number he’d never seen. He pressed a button and silenced the call. 
Megan’s breath hitched as if she would fuss, and Kane rubbed her back. She swallowed her cry and nestled into his shoulder, her tiny hand a petal against his throat. His bum leg ached. Closing his eyes, he shifted his weight. He inhaled the baby’s clean, sweet scent and listened to his older daughter singing softly in the next room. At moments like these, the war and its aftershocks seemed very far away. 
Still, Kane knew there were some things you couldn’t fix. No matter how much help you had. No matter what interventions people ran on your behalf. No matter how hard you tried.
Some things stayed broken. A bum leg. A bad memory. But he believed in work-arounds. If you had the sense God gave a goat, you learned to trim back, cut down, reroute. You accepted that no plan came with guarantees, and when life blocked one lane, you found another. He had his family. He mostly had his health. And he had a good job as a security officer for Denver’s Regional Transportation District—the RTD. 
The gig wasn’t the life he’d dreamed of before the war. It wasn’t medical school. It wasn’t a bright, sunny office and a steady stream of patients and a world that admired a man’s intelligence and awarded him money and accolades for his dedication. 
But there were compensations. Like these times with his girls. The phone buzzed again. Same number. A cold thread wriggled its way into Kane’s thoughts. Lester Crowe. For Crowe, the war was always right there. In his face or on his back. In his dreams, and always on his mind. When things got too dark, he would call Kane from someone’s cell or use the phone in whatever dive bar he found himself in when the shakes hit. Kane answered with a soft hello. “Someone’s been following me,” Crowe said without preamble. “Trying to smoke my ass.”
An icy fear knifed into Kane’s neck, right at the base of his skull. He kept his voice soft. “Hey, Crowe, you okay?” 
“I was until some fancy suit started following me. Watching me eat my food and scratch my ass. Watching me every time I take a shit, I swear. Not safe anywhere. It’s fucking Iraq all over again.” 
A week ago, Kane would have tried to talk Crowe down from whatever mental ledge his war buddy had crawled out on. But that was before Kane began digging into the past. Before he learned just how wrong things had gone in Iraq. And how it had spilled out over here. Maybe someone had noticed his online research. The drive-bys and photos. Maybe he’d endangered his entire fireteam. 
“Crowe—” Megan woke with a mewling cry. Kane stood and jounced her in his arm. He walked to the window, taking a sentry’s position above the quiet street. “What are you talking about?” 
“Some nutso shit, man.” Kane caught the rumble of a truck through the line. A horn honked. Then Crowe said, “It’s like we’re the heroes in a fucked-up movie. And Iraq is the monster that won’t stay dead.” 
“Where are you? I’ll come and get you. Doesn’t matter where you are.” 
“I’m calling from a pay phone. Only way that’s secure. An hour from now I’ll be in another state. You hang with your family, take care of your own. Stay on watch and be careful. These guys are serious trouble. They’re probably listening in right now.” 
Kane did not want to go down the path his friend had taken. “Crowe, c’mon. You been smoking something?”
“I’m telling you. It’s Iraq, back with a mouthful of teeth. We should never have done what we did. It was wrong, man. It was so wrong.” 
Kane swallowed down the panic and reminded himself this was, after all, Crowe. Unstable in the best of times. Crowe had gone radio silent right after he returned to the States. And a man didn’t disappear from his Marine brethren unless there was something very wrong with what was bouncing around between his ears. But still. Kane considered what he’d learned this last week. Covert deals, illegal weapons, faked reports. There were enough pieces missing that he couldn’t yet make out the overall image. But what he could see made him think that what Crowe had going on was less PTSD than self-preservation. “You been to see anyone, Crowe? You know, just to talk. You sound—” “Paranoid?” Crowe snorted. “Don’t give me that bullshit. These dudes will hand everyone on our team their asses and make us thank them for the pleasure. It’s something to do with that Iraqi kid whose mom got killed. He’s in the middle of this clusterfuck.” 
This was a sucker punch. “Malik?” 
“He saw something over there. Those weapons. Remember that?” The panic clawed free and tried to pull Kane down. Megan began to fuss. He walked her back and forth across the room, struggling to pull up an image of the small boy who’d been adopted by the Marines after his mother’s murder. “You think they’re after you because of—” He stopped himself, abruptly aware that if Crowe’s fear was grounded in reality, someone really might be listening. “Because of that?” he finished weakly. 
“Only thing I can think of. Look, I gotta go. Stay on watch, brother. Remember what we used to say? Just ’cause you’re paranoid don’t mean they’re not out to get you.” Crowe disconnected. 
Kane’s thoughts flew in a hundred different directions. No question, Crowe was crazy. He saw things no one else did. He babbled on about conspiracy theories and space aliens. He’d never learned to rest his head anywhere for more than a night or two. Then again, given what Kane had learned, maybe right now Lester Crowe was the sanest man on the team...

AMBUSH
Sydney Parnell Series

By Barbara Nickless

I was committed to this series as soon as I met and was mesmerized by the lead character, Sydney Parnell. There's not another female main character like her! First, she was a Marine...and proves to be all that everybody says Marines are. Second, she volunteered to care for the dead during her service--and ghosts are with her constantly, especially for those she'd had to kill in battle...

See Reviews of 

Blood on the Track

Dead Stop

Now she is a cop with the railroads. In this book, however, we are taken back to that time during the war when it all had started. It was bad; it was wrong. Most said. What Sydney remembered most was that she had cared for the boy of a mother who had been killed that day. And then she'd been forced to leave him. She had never been able to forget, or forgive herself, for that. And, now, she'd learned where he might be. She left for Mexico immediately, alone, and on the hunt.

But, while there, she learns that her friend and co-worker, Jeremy Kane, was murdered. Kane had also been a part one of the Marines who had responded to orders and believed they were doing what was right for America... Was there somebody working to eliminate that entire team? It wasn't a new idea. She even called the individual, Alpha, to pinpoint exactly who had authorized that mission... And she was always on alert...

The local assigned investigator for the case was thankful to have Sydney offer to help. It appeared that Kane had been killed by a homeless man and since Sydney did a lot of interaction with the homeless in the area, she was surprised that she had never seen the man before... But, almost immediately after studying the crime scene photos and videos, she was certain that the man had not been a homeless man, but had dressed as one as a disguise...which meant, he would have totally changed his appearance, and could be anywhere now.

I appreciated the twist when Sydney finds evidence that Kane had collected and used it to work the case. Sydney's lover, a homicide cop, Cohen was involved to some extent, and they discussed everything that happened. Until he realized that she should have already told him much earlier, what she was now sharing. And it was going to get tougher for them before this all ended...

Since Cohen and I had been together, I’d wanted to make our relationship normal. Create a bond that wasn’t hobbled by my past. A “how was your day at the office, dear?” kind of relationship. 

But he was right. I was way too skittish to walk all the way into the room. “I’m sorry,” I said. 

“It’s not what you did in Iraq. As a cop, I know we’re all just trying to do our best. And I know that sometimes it’s impossible in the moment to perfectly draw that line between right and wrong. I get that.” 

My pulse throbbed in my temple. “What, then?”

“It’s how you handled it with me. You’ve buried yourself so far behind your walls that even when both our lives were in danger, you wouldn’t let me in. Wouldn’t tell me what was going on. And now . . . now I don’t know if I can trust you to have my back.” 

A needle slid into my heart. “I thought I could handle it on my own.” 

“That’s exactly the problem. You think you have to handle everything by yourself. You should have included me, Sydney. Dammit.” He turned to face me. Anger and pain and hurt swam in his eyes, eddies in a dark current. His entire body slumped, as if gravity had finally gotten a grip on him. 

“Can you try not to die while I’m gone?” 

My eyes filled. “Marines are hard to kill.”

~~~

On the other hand, outside of her personal life, one of the points that makes Sydney so special, is that the author has created her so that Sydney is well-respected, liked, and trusted. so that, even in Mexico, she was able to make contacts that would help in any way needed... 

And whenever there is danger or facing enemies in order to do what is right, Sydney will be the first, or among those that move in for the battle. What happens in Mexico brings both terrible deaths, as well as a renewal of peace of mind. But no event there could top the major surprise that occurs when Sydney follows the tracks discovered by Kane... as well as responding to the kidnapping of her cop lover... (only one hint for those who've been reading the series.)

Nickless writes exciting books--no doubt about it! They are edgy, where her main characters take risks and somehow make it through. Brave heroes are the central point, but it is also pointed out that, really, those in the Marines have seen things that not even homicide cops have seen--and many still live with all that has gone down during their service. Nickless presents a reality that we all know that...nobody...should have to go through. Yet some are called to protect and serve.

But when it's never over for some of them...those Marines get mad...they get angry that, now, after all those years, what they were told to do is no longer an acceptable action to be forgotten. No, because, those that made those things happen don't want to pay. They want to continue the money-making schemes that criminals are always looking for...

This is edge-of-the scene action in two different settings with different characters, but all surrounding what one brave boy, Malik, did while he watched his mother be murdered...he recorded it...

In order to get justice for the loss of his mother...

Fortunately, with books we don't have to make comparisons between which book to choose, most of the time. But, I would say that the author has outdone herself on this one...WOW Effect for me! Unique story, unique situations, unique main characters. Can't get any better! I can't wait until the next book comes! Highly recommended.


GABixlerReviews

Barbara Nickless promised her mother she'd be a novelist when she grew up. What could be safer than sitting at a desk all day? But an English degree and a sense of adventure took her down other paths--technical writer, raptor rehabilitator, astronomy instructor, sword fighter, piano teacher and journalist. Now an award-winning author, she spends her free time snowshoeing, caving and hiking the Colorado Rockies. Connect with her at www.barbaranickless.com.

Romantic Fantasy, The Gardener of Baghdad, by Ahmad Ardalan is Wonderful Escape! Loved It!

I was born in 1934 in Diyala, an only child to my parents and the light and joy in their lives. My father, along with my two uncles, had inherited a large plot from their late father. It was beautiful agricultural land, with soil so rich that everything they planted turned into gold. My father and uncles were fond of their work and took care of the land very well, and our farms supplied fruits and vegetables to many areas across the country.
I had a happy childhood. I enjoyed watching my father and uncles do their daily work at the farm, and my mother and my uncles’ wives laughed as they went about their daily chores, whether it was cooking or helping the men with some farm work. I loved running around those green farms, collecting dates, oranges, and grapes and playing with my younger cousins. I was particularly close to Mustafa, who was only four months younger. I will never forget the good times we had. Every day, just before sunrise, Mustafa and I used to run to the end of the farm, to a little hut my late grandfather had built years earlier. We’d climb up on top of it and watch the sunflowers open up while the sun was rising. How beautiful a sight it was! We just watched and watched, and everything in life seemed so simple, so perfect. I remember racing him all the way back. We played games like hide-and-seek and football, but the thing Mustafa loved most was climbing that high palm tree next to the house. He loved playing up there, and he never lost to me once when we raced to climb it. He was quick as a bullet, and I’d bet my life that nobody in Iraq could climb it faster than him. With several moves, he was up the tree, picking the sweetest date, while I was still struggling halfway through. 
It was a lovely, peaceful life till, out of nowhere, a tragedy hit. On a rainy day in February of 1943, we received shocking news. My father and one of my uncles were on their way to Baghdad via public transportation, a small, twelve-passenger local bus, the only one in the province that went to Baghdad daily at that time, always at seven a.m. sharp. That day, the roads were muddy and dangerous. It had rained all night before, and the rain continued even after they’d left home. They were urged by my mother and my aunt to delay their visit, but they insisted that they go, stating that they had urgent meetings to attend. In the end, that decision would prove to be a fatal one, but I learned early in life that you can’t fight fate. That day was to be their calling day, that bus ride their last...
The shock hit us hard. My mother was hurt the most, as she was an orphan herself and had no brothers or sisters. My father was her everything, so she was devastated. She’d finally found someone to love in life, but he was taken away from her in a heartbeat. Before that, she’d always worn the most beautiful smile, but I never saw it again after that day. After the tragedy, my youngest uncle was in charge of all of us. It wasn’t easy for such a young man to take care of three families and manage all the farms by himself, so my cousin Mustafa and I tried to help. After all, we were the oldest of the children, both a ripe, old age of ten. I always told Mustafa we had a short-lived childhood, and we were men before our time. I loved working on the farm and helping out, but Mustafa only did it because he felt obliged to. Nevertheless, once school was out, we both helped with everything from seeding and irrigation to driving the tractors, the best part of all. At that age, I had four things in my life: my mother, Mustafa, the rest of the family, and the farm. Ten months later, life struck me with another harsh blow, when my mother passed away from pneumonia. The doctors tried to help, but they were of little use. She hadn’t been the same since my father’s untimely death, and she didn’t seem to have the will to live anymore. So, I was an orphan before I even turned eleven. From that day on, I dedicated everything to my work. I put my heart and soul into it and was my uncle’s right arm. He taught me everything, and as years passed, I began to take on many responsibilities of the farm...


The Gardener of Baghdad

“This novel speaks about a flower… 

The true red rose in my life, 

The rose that represents existence,

beauty and class. Baghdad.”

By Ahmad Ardalan

This beautiful book actually has a book within the book... In this time when there always seems to be war, somewhere, Ahmad Ardalan takes us into a dramatic fantasy of love and life.

The story begins with Adnan, a bookstore owner...

Adnan brushed away the last shards of shattered window glass that were scattered all over the floor. It had taken six hours of effort, hard labor, to restore his bookstore to order, but finally, a new window was in place, and there was no dangerous glass shrapnel anywhere for any of his customers to step on. Luckily for Adnan, he was in the back with a customer when the roadside bomb exploded, the third in two years. The thing exploded about 500 feet away from his store, aimed at a small gathering of workers, and it had taken its bitter toll: five casualties and dozens of injured workers in all.
Maybe everyone is right, Adnan considered. Maybe it’s time I close up my bookshop and leave the country like most everyone else has. Baghdad wasn’t safe anymore; it hadn’t been since day the regime had changed. Not a day went by without casualties anymore, and bombs, kidnappings, and shootings were rampant. It wasn’t the Iraq Adnan used to live in, the place where people could at least feel safe living with their families.

Adnan did not want to leave his shop, even though he had a buyer if he would go...he kept procrastinating, even though his wife and family would be safer... Who knew when other bombs would be used and how much damage would occur. And if he were to sell the shop, his books could not go with him--the newer ones could be replaced, but he had a section of older books that were both valuable but, even more so, his treasures! His father had started the bookstore in 1944 and he'd been working in the shop since he was six. He had grown to love books as well as the bookstore...

What really pained Adnan, the toughest part, was having to let go of the books in the far right corner of his shop, the masterpieces. Those tomes were all rare, unique books, most more than fifty years old. They weren’t even for sale because they were his treasures, and he considered them priceless. That private collection was very close to his heart, just as they had been to his father’s. Anyone who wanted to read them had to ask days ahead of time and could only read them in the store; none of those books ever left the four walls of his bookstore, not even in the hands of his closest, most trusted friends or relatives.
Adnan had read more than half of them, but even he had neglected them for the last three or four years. Of course, this was not out of his own will, but because daily problems had impacted his life and eaten up all his spare time. Adnan moved to the corner where they sat, stood in front of them, and took a whiff, enjoying the ancient, almost musty aroma of those old pages. He moved closer and picked each book up and carefully cleaned their covers and bindings. He knew he could make a good fortune off of those books by selling them to some curator or collector, but those who would truly value the books had either left the country or were dealing with other priorities that left them little spending money for anything as frivolous as rare and beautiful books. Nevertheless, they deserved to be dusted, for they were hidden gems.
After nearly two hours of dusting and thumbing through some of his inventory, Adnan was in the third row when a book fell. He quickly picked it up, and he could tell from the title that it was French. Funny. I don’t remember seeing this one before. Out of curiosity, he opened the book. As is usually the case for books, the first page contained the name of the publisher and the copyright information. It was clearly mentioned that the work had been published in 1931. Intrigued, Adnan turned a few pages. Suddenly, something fell out of the book. When he carefully placed the book back on the shelf and bent down to see what it was, Adnan realized it was a small, leaf-shaped, locket. The pendant was dark golden in color, and two green stones, emeralds in the shape of eyes, were embedded in it. With the most delicate of touches, Adnan opened the locket. On one side were the letters M& A, clearly engraved, but what caught Adnan’s attention at once was what was on the other side: a black and white photograph of a woman behind a small glass. He quickly dusted it off. Although the photo wasn’t that clear, the woman in the picture looked like a foreigner; she had light hair and features far different from most Arabic women...

~~~

After examining the locket that had fallen from a book, he opened the book and discovered that, inside, was what seemed to be a journal--a personal book that was written by hand. There is no other way to put it: Adnan became obsessed with reading the story...a personal story of a man once called The Gardner of Baghdad!

Adnan read of a young man named Ali who had lived on a farm until he was 18 and left to build his own life in Baghdad, where he began doing gardening and landscaping. His work was so magnificent that he quickly gained customers, had his own business and became a successful man who began to establish himself in the city...

Ali was a very personable man who was well-liked and even became a son to a couple who had lost their son, also named Ali. With their help, he was able to learn even more about advancing his business and things were going very well until the day he saw a beautiful women--an English angel, who was the daughter of a British General...

Both knew of the trouble they could get into... Both knew their hearts were guiding what they chose to do from then on...

This is the type of book that I would love to go on and tell you the whole story but that would give too much away. Needless to say, I was just as obsessed as Adnan once I started to learn about Ali's life and his magically falling in love on first sight with Mary...

Ali had never wanted to be involved with politics. He loved Baghdad, but did not want to be entangled into the issues that the city's leaders were facing at that time... If only he had been able to keep that secret life they had started--meeting for a few hours whenever they could... without anybody knowing...

Adnan stayed at the Bookstore for days and nights until he could finish the book, but it just stopped! Ali had never been able to finish his story... 

What do you think a booklover would do at that point?

In the midst of continued turmoil, I applaud Ahmad Ardalan for giving us the pleasure of knowing beautiful Baghdad as he knows and loves it! It certainly provides us a lovely story of how residents of that country are just as frustrated as many world citizens who long for continued violence to...stop!

For romance lovers with a fantasy, unique twist, you might consider this a definite must-read. I am certainly happy to have had the opportunity to learn of The Gardener of Baghdad...Not only is it a beautiful story but it is well-written and easy to sink into and enjoy... It's memorable and bound to come to you again and again as you remember parts of what was most fascinating for you, as reader... Loved it and highly recommend you check it out!


GABixlerReviews


 

Ahmad Ardalan was born in Baghdad in 1979. At the age of two, he moved with his parents to Vienna, Austria, where he spent most of his childhood and underwent his primary studies. After his father's diplomatic mission finished at the end of 1989, he returned to Iraq, where he continued his studies and graduated from the University of Dentistry. As a result of the unstable political, military, social, and economic conditions in his home country, Ahmad decided to leave Iraq and move to the UAE. After facing difficulties to pursue his career in dentistry, he opted to pursue employment in the business world. Since then, Ardalan has held several senior roles within the pharmaceutical and FMCG industries, throughout much of the Middle East. His early childhood in a mixed cultural environment, as well as his world travels, increased his passion for learning about cultures of the world and inspired him to pen The Clout of Gen, his first novel. After eleven years of being away, Ahmad returned to Baghdad in January 2013 on a visit that was full of mixed emotions. Inspired by his trip to Iraq, he wrote his second novel, The Gardener of Baghdad. He did not stop there, as "Matt" his latest Short Story Thriller Series became available beginning 2015.

Related articles

• World › Iraq bomb attacks kill at least 30
• Bomb Attacks In Iraq Kill Eight
• Iraq Bomb Attacks Kill at least 30
• 40 people killed in bombing in Iraq
• Iraq Suicide Bombing Kills at Least 86 People
• 24 killed, dozens injured in Iraq's Baghdad, Diyala
• Iraq's parliament speaker says deadly attack on Diyala marketplace was 'sectarian'
• Iraq Situation Summary

Third in Series by Mary Metcalfe Spotlights Symptoms of Traumatic Brain Injuries to Soldiers!

"This is the Massachusetts State Trooper's Office."

"Sean frowned and put the beer down. He ran a hand over the blonde buzz cut. "Did you find my wife?"

"No, sir. But we can confirm that she was in a single vehicle collision on the night of April eighteenth about an hour and a half outside Boston. She was taken to St. Luke's hospital with head injuries. It is unknown where she went after being discharged..."

"Do you have any information on her whereabouts now? With the head injuries, I'm worried she may have amnesia. Our children want their mommy to come home." Sean's eyes were hard and cold as he picked up the beer and took a long pull.

"We have no information sir. There was no crime and no property damage. No charges were laid."

"Thank you, officer. Where did you say the accident happened?...

"Walking into the living room, he sat down in his favorite chair and looked over to Andrea's empty one; it was next to a basket that had once held children's books and colorful magazines. "I'm coming to bring you home where you belong, Andrea. You can run, but you can't hide. I will find you. Bet on it, bitch..."

~~~

Road to Tomorrow

By Mary Metcalfe

For learning new, important information from fiction novels, Mary Metcalfe's third in her series, is not only her best, but beats out many other novels that help to share today's news through their writing. Specifically, let's go right to that... Have you ever heard of "traumatic brain injuries (TBI)? Many are writing about PTSD as being faced by many of our soldiers, but TBI has some scary statistics. Here's a little about what Mary shares in her Afterword:

There are over 300,000 American military service personnel returning from combat duty in Iraq and Afghanistan who have these injuries. A tragic consequence of inadequately treated TBI is suicide. And, in fact, deaths by suicide now actually outpace combat deaths in the American military... TBI is marked by the kinds of symptoms and actions described in this novel...

If you know somebody who is back from these or other wars, I highly recommend you consider this novel a must read and that you share it with other families whose relatives may have received such injuries! Suicide is tragic, but there are worse events that can be caused... Let me tell you about what Andrea Garrett was facing in her life...

"Val says it's your ex-husband who is at St. Luke's.
How is he?"
"Not good. He'll probably never regain full mental
capacity. The surgeon told me he has traumatic
brain injuries. I don't know what those are, but I
tend to find out."
"I heard on NPR that a lot of servicemen are coming
back with them. They call it TBI, for short. It didn't
have a name until Iraq and Afghanistan. But I'm sure
it's been around as long as there've been bombs.
They called in shell shock back in World War Two...
"Basically, any injury to the brain causes some level
of trauma. For our guys overseas, it's caused mostly
by bomb blasts and vehicle accidents. With a bomb,
there's a wall of air pressure created when it goes
off. The nearby soldiers get thrown to the ground
or against an object. The brain slams against the
back of the skull, rebounds and slams against
the front of the skull..."
~~~

The book opens as Andrea is trying to leave her abusive husband, but he catches her, takes her suitcases, dumps then into the bathtub and runs water...destroying all of them...

Sean was adamant that she would not leave him, that he was fine--in fact, he was still on active duty...

But each time he came home, he was worse and this time, Andrea escaped before he was due home from his latest tour...

She had left her children with her twin brother who still didn't want to see her leave--her husband was his best friend. But her mind was made up. She was afraid for her children...

Heading for Boston, Andrea "thankfully" had a car accident. Thankfully, because she was found by Carol and Devin, who series readers will have already met, and when she was able to leave the hospital, they took her home to the ranch (which you might have read about in New Beginnings, the second novel in the series)...

With the kindness of people like Carol, Devin and others in this small town, Andrea soon knew she had found where she wanted to stay. With friendly help, she soon had an apartment, a job, and was able to bring the children to live with her...

And when she shared more about her personal life, she soon was hooked up with a good lawyer and filing for divorce...

Of course, Sean returned home, but found nobody who was willing to help him! He went to the police to file a missing person's report... and then his injuries and resultant symptoms took over... When Sean went after Andrea and made it to where she was now living, I loved how the community took over! Val and her husband who own the town's main restaurant, the gay couple living on the ranch and many others spread the word that he was there... You'll so enjoy what happens! At least I did, LOL!


But as the story goes on, secrets from the past are revealed, which ultimately makes Sean even more dangerous! An important read... It makes for a terrific thriller but...it could be very real... I happened to watch Dr. Phil yesterday (and today) where an abusive man and his "meek" friend who wants out of the relationship are being interviewed! As soon as I saw this man, I thought that he must have had some form of TBI... This issue is real. Learn about it, maybe starting with this novel to see symptoms! Highly recommended!

GABixlerReviews

Originally from the Toronto-Hamilton area of Ontario, Canada, Mary moved to Ottawa to study journalism and fell in love with the region. Shortly after graduating, she met and fell in love with her soul mate.

In addition to being a full-time novelist, Mary edits memoirs, fiction and non-fiction manuscripts. She's adopted the moniker Lakefront Muse to reflect (pardon the pun) her love of living by a small lake and gaining inspiration from nature in her rural surroundings. While her novels are set in or near Boston, she lives in the foothills of the Laurentians in Quebec, Canada.

Please visit Mary on her blog at www.lakefrontmuse.blogspot.ca for weekly interviews with authors from around the world and musings about writing and publishing in general.

Learn more at www.marymetcalfe.ca.

Related articles 

http://gabixlerreviews-bookreadersheaven.blogspot.com/2013/04/mary-metcalfes-excitingly-romanticbut.html

• Weekend Marathon of Reading Mary Metcalfe - Watch for Reviews of Trilogy!
• TBI Increases Odds For Depression, Behavior Impulsivity, PTSD In Patients With Nonepileptic Seizures
• VA's Tough Standards for Traumatic Brain Injury
• A Veteran's Writing Earns a Journalism Award
• More Active Duty Military Died in 2012 from Suicide than in Combat
• In the aftermath of terrorism ... Who gets rehabilitation
• "Dwarfed by the Magnitude of the Problems"
• Family's struggle with TBI helps dozens of others

A Must-Read Triple-Shot "Love Story"! OUT TODAY!!!

                               Image via Wikipedia


Come Back To Me


By Melissa Foster






I have not been so affected by a romantic drama since Love Story back in the '70s! And Come Back To Me hit me even more. It is powerful in story, beautiful in its reality and, simply unforgettable. Even though the ending was not what I expected or wanted...


In my opinion, this is Melissa Foster's finest--and her previous books were wonderful! But Come Back To Me places us right into our own lives, a situation that could be true for you or me or someone you know. It tells of a love that all of us dream of having, and forces us to face the reality of living, no matter what comes. The situation explodes for many who have loved ones involved in positions that take them to dangerous places and the characters are richly and fully created so that we claim them as our own friends and family and we feel the pain, suffering and potential loss faced by the ones who are separated and left behind.

Meet Tess and Beau Johnson. Beau is a photographer and travels around the world for his job. His latest assignment is for Mr. Fulan from Wartime magazine to document the changes in Iraqi family life since the inception of the war. Given the job, Tess and Beau had both felt that Beau's photos would be accepted and would lead to international exposure, something Beau craved and needed for his career.

Tess loved and supported Beau's desire to wait five years before they began a family. But with Beau on his assignment, Tess learns that she is pregnant. What will Beau say?

But that became a secondary concern when they hear that the small plane that had been used for the project had crashed and burned. All were assumed dead.

But Tess could not and would not accept that.

Indeed Beau had been blown far away from the crash site and had fortunately been found by two women and children who were hiding in the desert, waiting to have help in escaping the country. Suha was a doctor but her life was in danger, since the medical staff would treat anybody, no matter what race--many doctors had already been killed! Samira and her children were escaping from the abuse of her husband.

The book moves back and forth between the lives of the two lovers--Tess refusing to accept Beau is dead, even fighting with his parents, refusing to have a memorial service. Beau is unconscious for much of the time, but once he awakes, he immediately becomes involved in their escape, while learning of the conditions of their lives...

For the lovers, Samira begins to look in favor at Beau and he is aware of her, even while dreaming only of getting back to Tess. But Tess has been told by everybody that Beau is dead so that when she meets a new man, she slowly, almost unwillingly accepts him into her life...

Though distressing and agonizing in detail, this poignant love story is surpassed only by its surprise ending. 'Nuf said...

Romance novel fans--you can't possibly miss this must-read! For those who don't normally read romance, like me, well, I can only tell you, both men and women, that you will miss something if you don't take the chance and genre hop for Come Back To Me... Oh, and have plenty of kleenex handy when you start reading...



Book Received Via
Reviewers Roundup Group


GABixlerReviews

Related articles

• YOU Are Invited! Book Launching, Book Sale, Giveaways, Contests! (gabixlerreviews-bookreadersheaven.blogspot.com)
• Meet Melissa Foster (gabina49.wordpress.com)
• New Release for Melissa Foster: Come Back to Me (therisingmuse.com)