Kay Phoenix: Author Glory Wade

I make an annual trip to Canada, land of poutine (see pic), peameal back bacon, and Habitant pea soup. Childhood memories spring to mind as I drive highways through miles of open land flanked by towering trees, farm houses with dilapidated gray barns, and roadside stands selling fresh eggs and produce.

The farther north I drive from Toronto, up Hwy 11 to the Muskoka area of Ontario, Canada, a mantle of serenity descends over me. Highway dividers change from wood and metal to nature’s bounty—colonies of bulrushes with oatmeal-colored heads, outcroppings of rock sprouting pine trees, and green hillocks. I especially love meandering remote country roads with leaves skittering across, ushered by unseen hands. The hills remind me of Dad speeding down then up the next one, laughing when Mom and I “lost” our stomachs.

I love the Bed & Breakfast experience—the hospitality of the owners, the character of the home, breakfasts in a relaxing setting (I don’t cook), and the local flora and fauna. B&Bs are as varied as the spots on a fawn’s back, each with a charm all their own.

En route to my fav, The Bear and Butterfly in Gravenhurst, I saw four young deer, and a wild turkey that reappeared several times during my stay. The usual flocks of honking Canadian geese flew over in their V-shaped formation.

My imagination flirted with a horror story when, in a B&B by Wye Marsh, I opened the window at night and heard the eerie cacophony of wildlife—bullfrogs, crickets, birds... Another unique experience was staying in the home of an artist who “paints” pictures using wool from her sheep.

If the infamous black flies and mosquitoes have not yet emerged in droves—they love my foreign desert-dweller blood—I like to walk forest paths veined with occasional tree roots and pebbled with orphan stones. On either side, thick, gnarled pines, some with toadstools growing from their scabs of bark, scent the air. Interspersed trees include maple trees, firs, and more. As a kid, my friend and I printed notes on the white parchment curling off the trunks of birch trees.

One morning, I happened upon a spider’s web with dew drops glistening like diamonds. I said to myself, “I have to include that in a novel.” And I did. The tattered drapes in my protagonist’s childhood bedroom and the abandoned trailer on Hualapai Mountain were other novel inspirations taken from the sight of a deserted, solitary mobile home.

Every year, I visit the lime green piano, an obscure tourist attraction, outside the Huntsville Train Station. Buttons decorate the sides, front, and top, and the keys bear pictures of musicians. To my disappointment, the weather-battered instrument which still worked as of last year was gone, as was the tableau from a past era staged inside the brick building. The life-sized figures, benches and chairs, and the equipment I used to strain to see through the dirt-splattered windows are nothing but a fond memory now. I heard a private party bought this historic building. It is my loss that I didn’t arrange earlier to see the inside.

Downtown consists of one street, lined with small tourist-oriented shops on one side of the bridge, and features the vintage Capitol Theater that has been showing movies for over sixty years.

Over the two days I spend in historic Huntsville, I always dine a few times at Westside Fish and Chips, my favorite restaurant. An impressive teapot collection lines the walls and fills the shelves in this small, popular eatery located above a laundromat. As I pig out on French fries smothered in brown gravy and cheese, the Canadian bacon—and butter tarts that are THE absolute best— paintings of whimsical characters watch from overhead. The staff is friendly and the food excellent, including their signature fish and chips. This is a must-stop if you are ever in Huntsville.

Muskoka is a mecca for Canadians and Americans who love cottage country with all the activities, sights, and sounds that go hand in hand with cabins, B&Bs, lakes and forests. It is no wonder that it was first on National Geographic’s “10 Best Summer Trips of 2011.” You are sure to have a great time and enjoy Canadian hospitality if you visit the Muskoka area of Ontario, Canada.

For more photos, please visit my website. To receive a beta of a Trip Packing Checklist, click on Follow at the bottom of the Home Page or email me.

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Title: Diamonds of Fury

Series and Book #: Dead Husbands Never Looked So Good – Book One

Author/pen name: Glory Wade

Genre: Psychological Fiction/Crime Fiction

Date of Publication: July 5, 2019

ASIN: BO7THD6TNP

Number of pages: 264

Word Count: 61,830

Cover Artist: 100 Covers

Blurb:

Lila Phyllips, a back-seat beer baby, has glittering aspirations to rise from her trailer trash beginning to a fairy tale life of true love and wealth—and lots of diamonds.

Kicked out by her embittered mother and abandoned by her boyfriend, 14-year old Lila goes to live with her aunt. She blossoms from a frightened teen into a woman, savvy in business, but conniving when necessary.

After not-so-sparkling experiences with the opposite sex, she opens her heart to Dale Anderson and reveals her secrets—except one. He vows to love her forever, no matter what. When her perfect life is shattered by betrayal and death, she is torn between her fractured love for Dale and her desperate need for retribution. Lila must decide—

Will Dale be her diamond in the rough?

Note: This novel covers Lila's life with her first husband.

Buy links: Amazon

Excerpt:

Mona pulled into a BP truck stop. Big rigs, flatbeds, automobile transports, and a smattering of passenger cars half-filled the lot. The air brakes of eighteen-wheelers squealed and sighed as the truckers pulled in to refill their bodies and the tanks of their steel behemoths.

Lila put her hand on Mona's. In a soft voice, she said, "I'm really going to Moab, Utah. To my aunt."

Her new friend grabbed for the door handle. "All righty. I'll try to get you a lift to Moab."

With a light touch on Mona’s hand, she thanked her and jumped to the ground. As she stretched, she stared at the murky sky. No tentative fingers of sunlight poked through the drabness.

Doomed hamburger on the hoof bellowed from behind the slats of a nearby trailer. She almost gagged at their earthy smell melding with the oily reek of gasoline and oil.

A child's high voice wafted on the desert breeze, "Mommy, it stinks."

Lila watched the mother touch her little girl's tawny braids and help her into the car as the man getting into the driver's side favored the child with an indulgent smile. Rose never loved me like that. Looking away, she squelched an urge to cry.

A gentle hand on her arm pulled her attention away from the family. Mona, stocky as a Mack truck, steered her into the building. She paid the store clerk, then pointed down a hallway. "The showers are that way.”

Lila entered a small all-white room with a sink, bench, and white towels. The hairdryer was attached to the wall. Locking the door, she undressed in a hurry, grabbed the provided travel sundries, and stepped into the stall. The warm spray of the shower washed the grubbiness down the drain. I'll be with Aunt Violet soon. She won't turn me away. Will she?

After drying off with the thin towel, coarse against her skin, she assumed her disguise and stepped outside the room. Aunt Violet said she would be there for me. A quiver rippled in the pit of her stomach.

Waiting at the end of the hallway, Mona frowned and touched her hair. Oh, yeah. Lila about-faced into the private shower, pulled her locks into a ponytail, and hid them under the cap.

As she re-emerged, Mona nodded approval. "A friend of mine is trucking a load through Moab. I told him your Uncle George is meeting you at the bus station, that your folks can't afford a bus ticket, so I offered to find you a lift with a friend. Don't talk much. I said you're on the shy side." She placed money into Lila's palm. "Here's forty dollars."

With trembling lips, Lila touched Mona's arm and murmured, "Thank you. My...my name is Lila."

"No need to thank me. Be careful, sweetie."

The two walked over to a red semi with a bear of a man standing beside it, cigar dangling from one corner of his mouth. Laughing blue eyes sparkled beneath caterpillar eyebrows.

"Big Al, this is my nephew, Michael."

"Pleased to meet ya," boomed the giant with a hearty handshake.

"Pleased to meet you, sir," she replied in a low voice, with the bill of her cap covering the upper portion of her face.

He ran his fingers through his thick dark beard. "Well, let's put the rubber to the road."

Mona bent down to hug Lila and whispered, "Don't forget to keep your cap pulled forward. Remember, you're a boy." Straightening up, she said, "Say hi to your Uncle George for me. Tell him I'm still younger."

As Lila settled into the passenger seat, she waved to Mona.

Big Al fired up the engine and pulled out of the lot. "Ever bin in a big rig, son?"

"No, sir."

He patted the dashboard. "Been driving this baby for twelve years. Named her Bertha after my girlfriend when I was in the Navy." With a nod toward a naked woman on his bicep, he added, "Got her tattooed right here."

Lila suppressed a shudder.

"So, how old are you, son?"

"Thirteen."

Author bio:

Glory Wade, a lover of lists, writing, and books, used to read by flashlight under the covers after going to bed—as a child, that is. (No need to do that now. Adulthood does have its perks!) Supersonic forward to now. She enjoys writing noir women’s fiction, and romance. Diamonds of Fury will be followed up by Diamonds of Scorn and Diamonds of Remorse.

This author's published credentials include short fiction; poetry; pet-oriented, event planning and jewelry articles, plus a chapter in the Professional Meeting Management textbook. She also facilitates the Aliante Writers Group, is a member of Henderson Writers Group, and is a Sisters in Crime guppy.
Glory and her husband share their home with two dachshunds, a red longhaired and a red piebald smooth. She enjoys helping other writing enthusiasts, reading a variety of genres, caring for her indoor plants, and harvesting potatoes from grow bags.