Since it’s coming up to Halloween, I thought I’d post an excerpt from J.T. Baroni’s story, The Legend of Rachel Petersen. J.T. contacted me to let me know he’s donating a portion of his proceeds from his book to The Leader Dogs for the Blind – a charity based in Rochester Hills, Michigan.
This organization has been providing free leader dog training and placement since 1939, directly changing the lives of thousands along the way. J.T.’s older brother, Gene, was born blind and is currently on his third canine companion. In addition, J.T. is the Vice President with the local Lions International Club. He says: “Over the past few decades I’ve directly experienced both the generosity and the impact of the vital services The Leader Dogs for the Blind provide.”
I’m reading this story at the moment and thoroughly enjoying it.
Blurb from Goodreads:
Did his book raise the dead? Outraged when The Post Gazette overlooks him for a promotion, thirty-nine year old sports writer, Christian Kane quits and moves to the country to write fiction.Inspiration flows from a grave he stumbles upon in the woods. He compiles The Legend of Rachel Petersen, a fascinating story revolving around the dead twelve year old girl lying beneath the weathered tombstone. His book becomes a Best Seller; then Hollywood makes it in to a blockbuster movie. Kane becomes rich and famous, but only to have Rachel rise from the grave to seek revenge on him for slandering her name.
Enjoy the excerpt below. Oh, and is that a creepy book cover or what?
The Legend of Rachel Petersen by J.T. Baroni
An old logging trail ran along the boundary of their back yard, and they mindlessly wandered on to it. Through the forest, the trail narrowed and led them to a small creek. Christian took Shelby’s hand and helped her across the slippery rocks as they continued their nature hike. Walking up a small incline, she pointed to a patch of black and yellow wild flowers growing underneath a huge old pine tree. “Look, Christian. I guess April showers do bring May flowers.”
He had to chuckle at her little girl remark. As he admired the blooming black eyed Susans, he saw something strange and exclaimed, “Look, Shell. Is that a…tombstone…among the flowers?”
They walked through the wild flowers over to the flat-faced, rounded-on-top stone sticking two feet out of the ground, being very careful not to walk on the grave itself. Shelby squinted to read the badly weathered inscription. “Rachel Petersen, Born Eighteen Fifty One, Died Eighteen Sixty Three.” Then she added, “She died so young. That’s sad.”
“I wonder why she died. That’s right around the civil war, right?” he asked.
Goose bumps ran up and down Shelby’s arms. “Yeah, I think so. This is too spooky for me. Let’s go back home.” She took his hand and started to walk, but he remained standing, staring at the stone.
His fascination with the stone and refusing to budge stopped her in her tracks. Then he told her, with glazed over wide eyes, “Hunchbacked Igor Wazleski just backed his truck over Drake Blackstone.” He nodded with determination, and confidently said, “I’m going to write this young girl’s story!”
“That’s nice, Christian. Can we go home?” she nervously asked, tugging his hand to hurry him.
“What’s the matter? Don’t tell me you’re scared.”
“A little. I feel like someone is watching us.” She quickly glanced all about. “Come on, Christian! Please?”
He tried to absorb everything about the tombstone with his memory in two quick seconds, while thoughtlessly saying, “Sure, Honey. Whatever you say.”
What do you think?
Check it out on Amazon HERE