A Three-Turtle Summer, #1 in my Turtle Trilogy

Posted on June 1, 2016 by Janelle Hooper

#1 in my Turtle Trilogy
suitable for most NA and adults
Amazon and others, PB & Kindle.
Published by iUniverse.

See all of my books and stories: Janelle Meraz Hooper

Read the book- Amazon and other Internet bookstores. Published by iUniverse.

Reviews:
Janelle Meraz Hooper gives us more than a story. She gives us a cast of hilarious and memorable characters in a vividly drawn scene. Libroseninguana.com

Light-hearted writing, deep and disturbing content, October 31, 2013 by James R. Muri
This review is from: A Three-Turtle Summer (Paperback) 4 stars
Janelle – our author – has written a novel that disguises years of horror and despair behind cozy country anecdotes, dialogue, and situations. To me, this reads like a psychological thriller / chiller, made all the more so by the calm and carefree rhetorical style used throughout.

To some this would be disconcerting; to me, Janelle has produced a piece of genuine art. If you’re looking for warm fuzzies in a story, the only warm fuzzy you’ll find in this one is basic survival and triumph. I found it impossible to put down. I was struck – to keep hammering on this – by how deeply contrasted the prose and peril were. Excellent read, excellent work, Janelle.

By Marmalade on May 3, 2014 5 stars
This is a gripping story of domestic abuse fueled by the high level of racism existing in Oklahoma in the late forties. It documents the cruelties suffered by the Hispanic, Japanese and African American of that era.

Grace, the youngest daughter of a close-knit Hispanic family, lives in constant terror of being assaulted by her bigoted, mean-spirited husband, Dwayne. She suffers her beatings in silence fearing he will take her daughter, Glory, away from her. Grace is a talented seamstress and with the help of her family devises a plan to be free of her abuser while he is away on military leave.

The characters are fleshed out and the action is fast paced and full of suspense. This is a terrific read that offers hope to the victims of abuse and racism. Well done.

2002 Bold Media 1st place fiction award

Next: As Brown AS I Want: The Indianhead Diaries

Custer & His Naked Ladies

(All books stand alone)

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Samie’s Secret, a short story

Posted on May 30, 2016 by Janelle Hooper

My website: Janelle Meraz Hooper

Happy Memorial Day!

Samie’s Secret

See the book: Free Pecan Pie and Other Chick Stories

Janelle Meraz Hooper

In the night sky, stars as big as snowballs danced around the moon as it came
up over the pond behind Samie’s aunt and uncle’s motel. Even with the beauty
around her, the young college graduate was uneasy sitting on the screened-in
back porch that looked over the water. Inside, she could hear the laughter of
the annual family reunion. She knew she’d have a long wait before she could
talk privately to her parents. It was a shame to have to spoil such a beautiful
evening by making them unhappy, but she was out of time.

At the front of the motel, her little nieces and nephews ran barefooted
through the trees, around the pink crape myrtle bushes and over the grass.
Each had a jar in their hands to collect lightning bugs.

With nothing else to do, she looked around the back porch. The only shiny
things on it were the stacks of pop that were used to replenish the vending
machines and the new turkey fryer her uncle had gotten for Christmas. Everything
else had been around for years and had a homey, burnished patina. Strangely,
she no longer felt comfortable in the stability the porch represented.

Inside, the rest of the grownups played pinochle or cribbage on the scattered
tables in the motel snack room. Every year, Homer and Lou closed the
business for a few days so the family could get together. The relatives paid the
going rate because her aunt and uncle weren’t rich, but it was a lot more comfortable
place to get together than going to one of their homes, none of which
had enough beds for the whole family. The families all chipped in for the food,
and Thelma, the motel restaurant’s cook, fixed all of their meals. The dishwasher,
who was on summer break from the local college, worked for tips. This
perk gave the women a rest from cooking and washing dishes, and the kids
were thrilled to be able to choose whatever they wanted from the restaurant
menu.

This was Samie’s first family reunion since she’d graduated. The school she
went to in the east was so expensive that she’d had to work during the last few
family get-togethers.

Tonight, after everyone went to bed, she’d talk to her parents. She was sure
they wouldn’t like what they were going to hear. Her stomach ached, and she
thought she might actually throw up. Her mother had been looking forward to
her coming home to stay as soon as she got her degree. Samie was sure she
wouldn’t take the news well. Her father would nod, say nothing, and rattle the
keys in his pocket. That’s what he always did when he didn’t like what he was
hearing. Walk up and down in front of everyone and jangle his keys.

The games started to break up, and Samie almost thought the evening was
over, but her Aunt Bess brought out a hefty watermelon and called the kids in
for dessert. Uncle Hal got out a big butcher knife and started teasing the kids.
“How big?” He’d ask, marking a tiny slice with the tip of the knife. “This
big?” The child would giggle and shake his head no.

“This big?” He’d ask again, scratching a line in the rind bigger than half the
watermelon.

“No,” the child would giggle again.

Laughing, Samie’s uncle cut a perfect piece for every child and sent them
out to the porch to eat it. The grown-ups lined up to get more modest pieces
and refill their coffee cups.

The watermelon was so ripe and juicy that its smell wafted out to the porch
where Samie waited for the perfect time to tell her parents what she was going
to do with the rest of her life.

The first thing she had to tell them was that her wedding was off. Moreover,
she would not be moving back to her hometown.

Next, she had to tell them was that she was not going to settle for the boring
life of a nine-to-five office job. There was a whole world out there, and she
wanted to see it all.

The last thing she had to say was, before she came to the reunion, she’d
joined the Army. She knew the news wouldn’t go over well. Their little darling
in the Army? After six years of college?

Everyone was beginning to drift off to bed. One after the other, doors to
motel rooms opened and shut softly. This was the moment she’d been waiting
for all night.
“Go Army! Be all you can be!” Samie chanted under her breath. She just
hoped she’d live through the night so she could get on the bus for Ft. Benning
in the morning.

This is one of the stories in my short story book, Free Pecan Pie and Other Chick Stories, Amazon and others, PB & Kindle. Published by iUniverse.

If you like this story, please share!

Note: Illustration is not in the book.

An excerpt from Escape to Laredo

Posted on April 3, 2016 by Janelle Hooper

A Kindle short from the writer of the one-man show Geronimo, Life on the Reservation
See the story on Amazon

To escape a greedy brother-in-law, Gregoria Marteen and her children are fleeing to America on a train after the death of her husband. A pastry chef, Gregoria’s first job in Texas is at Bettye Buford’s Bed & Table. It does not go well. Suitable for all ages.

…The conductor didn’t collect tickets until the train had left Mexico and had stopped in Laredo to pick up new passengers before it chugged its way across the Texas desert. The landscape was completely bare, and the passengers looked out across the hot, dry land without hope of seeing anything of interest through the windows of their stuffy railroad car. Not a tree. Not a bush. Not even a tarantula skittering across the desert floor.

“Tickets…tickets…tickets…,” the conductor droned as he moved down the train’s aisle. Gregoria watched him as he briefly stopped to talk to a group of cowboys who had just gotten aboard and were on their way to join a cattle drive. He politely refused when a cowboy offered him a swig of whiskey from a bottle he pulled out of a saddlebag. “There are no laws against drinking on a train as long as you’re a passenger, but rules prohibit my drinking with you,” he cheerfully explained.

The cowboys were in a good mood and looked forward to a long cattle drive on the Chisholm Trail up north toward Kansas with a big paycheck at the end. As the train rolled on, several cowboys settled in for a lengthy game of poker while a younger man softly strummed a guitar. The card players mostly ignored him now but later on in the middle of a long, boring cattle drive, they’d all come to appreciate their friend’s songs a lot more.

Gregoria held her breath when a banker in the middle of the car peppered the ticket-taker with questions about the likelihood of an Indian attack and she was relieved when the idea of seeing Indians excited the children more than frightened them. The eastern banker, a fiftyish man dressed in a three-piece suit that was much too warm for the trip, was beginning to hyperventilate. Unable to hide his nervousness, he kept up a list of questions that all started with “What if?” and ended with “What then?” The conductor tried to console him but some of his truthful answers made matters worse.

Finally, the cowboy with the bottle passed the whiskey up the aisle and told the man to take a drink. The banker gratefully took a big glug before he passed it back. When the banker noticed the soldiers on board and asked if they would protect them from robbers and Indians, the conductor had to honestly answer, “Probably not. There are only a few soldiers aboard the train and they are new recruits, unarmed, and untrained.”

Next, the banker wanted to know if there were armed guards in the boxcars to protect the bank’s money that was being transferred to Dallas. Patiently, the train employee admitted that “Company policy is to not put lives at risk to protect train shipments.”
The man’s whining was escalating and a soldier across the aisle from the panicky businessman became annoyed with the man’s cowardice and snorted underneath the cap he’d pulled down over his face, “Unless you see Geronimo and his band of Apaches,” the soldier said, “you’ll be fine. All of the other Indians are on the reservations.”

“And if I see Apaches? What then?” the banker queried.

“Then, you’ll be dead. No more problem,” the soldier answered matter-of-factly. Before he went back to sleep, he smiled at Gregoria and said out of earshot of the banker, “Don’t worry, ma’am. I’ve never heard of Geronimo chasing down a train. He seems to prefer stagecoaches…”

If you like this post, please share! Many thanks! Janelle

______________________________________________________________________

Janelle Meraz Hooper is also the writer of the one-man show
Geronimo, Life on the Reservation
starring Rudy Ramos,
who is now working on the Yellowstone TV series.
Raised in Oklahoma, she has other Western books and stories
Available on Amazon.

My Turtle Trilogy

It was A Three-Turtle Summer- and Grace had to dump a man who her sister said was “meaner than a rattlesnake and dumber than adobe.” Women’s fiction.

As Brown As I Want, The Indianhead Diaries- “I don’t want to be dead, but what can I do? I’m just a little kid. If dad wants to kill me, he’ll kill me.” Suspense/Humor.

Custer & His Naked Ladies- Sometimes, Naked Ladies are just old women in capri pants, and Custer is just an ole yeller dog… Suspense/Humor/Romance.
All available on Amazon. Paperback & Kindle.
Click on each book for a free sample!

______________________________________________________________________

Thanks for stopping by! Janelle
The author outside the Joel Mc Crea Ranch
just before the Geronimo, Life on the Reservation show.

Visit me on my book site

Also:
Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, YouTube, & Amazon
(A participant in the Worldreader, Books for all! program)

Madison Avenue invents a new cow! A comment.

Posted on March 30, 2016 by Janelle Hooper

What’s this? I’m used to Madison Avenue being creative but the latest brainchild from the advertising world is something called vegan leather. What is that? Is it their way of saying the handbag I’m looking at is plastic? What else could it be? The mind boggles…

Please share this post…

I write serious stuff too! Check out my novel, plays, and short stories here:

Janelle Meraz Hooper

See my books and short stories here: www.JanelleMerazHooper.com

Harpy & Julianne’s Tomato War, excerpt

Posted on March 9, 2016 by Janelle Hooper

Harpy & Julianne’s Tomato War
a short story
Purchase on Amazon

Link to story

My website: Janelle Meraz Hooper

It’s spring! and I thought my readers who garden would like to see a few lines from my new short story. It isn’t on my website yet, but it is available on Amazon.

Harpy and Julianne’s Tomato War
Janelle Meraz Hooper

AN EXCERPT- 1970, Lawton, Oklahoma…On a street in the older part of town, Harpy & Julianne, two gardening senior citizens, wage war over seemingly little things like roses and tomatoes. The trouble began with nineteen cats and prize roses and culminated with a dog named Killer, a racehorse named Moon Dancer, tomatoes, and lemon cake.

“…Everyone had a hustle in their bustle and the air pulsed with excitement when it was Tomato Festival time in Julianne’s hometown of Lawton, Oklahoma. A parade began the festivities that was followed with a tomato-growing competition, and canning competition. Vendors of every sort lined both sides of the streets and artists set up white tents for their art show in the park under the leafy trees. Near the picnic tables, all of the different organizations sold food to raise money for their clubs. The polka club sold sausages and sauerkraut; the Flamenco Club sold a Mexican plate with beans, rice, and enchiladas; The Mahjong Club sold a stir-fry dish served over white rice; and the Comanches sold fry bread. Live music ranging from classical to blue grass floated over the excitement, each style melding into the next.
On the outdoor stage, music teachers held their students’ yearly recitals in music, voice, and dance. Next, children would line up on the same stage to show off their skills in the Asian martial arts, wrestling, and baton twirling. The fun would culminate in a barbecue and a street dance when the sun went down and it cooled off. While the adults danced, a big movie screen showed cartoons for the kiddies, most of whom fell asleep with homemade ice cream all over their faces before Tom caught Jerry or the Roadrunner outwitted the Coyote.
Julianne especially liked the parade. Luckily, the floats and marching bands always lined up on “A” Avenue, right in front of her house, so she had a front row seat without leaving her porch. It seemed that every year at least one of the floats had some sort of mechanical crisis—usually a flat tire—or a decoration that failed to stay put—or a sound system that didn’t work. Each time, the men on the parade committee would descend upon the float that threatened to hold up the start of the parade in an old pickup. Its back was filled with all kinds of quick-fix items known to be useful from years of experience: hammers, saws, staplers, rope, wire, two by fours, and especially duct tape. As soon as the crew would fix one problem, another distress call would come in from another float. Every crisis and its resolution made for great entertainment for Julianne and the friends she invited to share her front porch.
They were a happy bunch and they’d all been friends for years. Belle had been one of Julianne’s bridesmaids. Trude and Vera were sisters who each brought their husbands every year. And, of course, there was always Joe. Joe had gone to high school with Julianne and they’d both gone on to graduate from Cameron University together. Of course, it was just Cameron College back then. The guest list was the same every year and every year Julianne sent out handwritten invitations to Potluck on the Porch! BYOP (Bring your own pot!)
Harpy, Julianne’s cranky next door neighbor, never joined Julianne and her friends even though he was always invited. He stayed inside his house with the windows and doors closed saying that all the racket the kids made interfered with his baseball game. The stubborn man didn’t have air conditioning, and Julianne wondered how he could stand the heat in his little house with the doors and windows shut tight. It had to be sweltering in there. Maybe he filled his bathtub with ice cubes from his fancy refrigerator and listened to the baseball game on the radio in his bathroom. But it didn’t really matter to Julianne what he did…or why. Harpy was just like that. He didn’t like kids. He didn’t like her friends. He didn’t like Julianne. He especially didn’t like her cats! Other than not liking Julianne because of her cats, the only other reason she could figure out for his hostility toward her was he didn’t like it when she wore her nightgown and robe on her back porch when she fed her cats in the morning. “You’re dragging your robe through the cats’ water!” he was known to shout from his back porch. Why did he care? Why on earth he went into such a tailspin over a little wet lace around the bottom of her robe she’d never understand…”

Available on Amazon Kindle. Suitable for all ages.

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cover by author.

Janelle Meraz Hooper, author

Literary blog

A Three-Turtle Summer, #1 in my Turtle Trilogy

Samie’s Secret, a short story

An excerpt from Escape to Laredo

Madison Avenue invents a new cow! A comment.

Harpy & Julianne’s Tomato War, excerpt

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