Virtual Book Tour and Giveaway: Will Rise From Ashes by Jean M. Grant

Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for Will Rise From Ashes by Jean M. Grant. This book tour was organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. On my stop, I have an excerpt for you as well as a guest post. There's also a tour wide giveaway. Make sure to visit the other stops on the tour for more excerpts, guest posts, interviews, reviews, and more. Enjoy!

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Title: Will Rise From Ashes

Author: Jean M. Grant

Publication Date: April 17th 2019

Genre: Women's Fiction

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Young widow AJ Sinclair has persevered through much heartache. Has she met her match when the Yellowstone supervolcano erupts, leaving her separated from her youngest son and her brother? Tens of thousands are dead or missing in a swath of massive destruction. She and her nine-year-old autistic son, Will, embark on a risky road trip from Maine to the epicenter to find her family. She can't lose another loved one.

Along the way, they meet Reid Gregory, who travels his own road to perdition looking for his sister. Drawn together by AJ's fear of driving and Reid's military and local expertise, their journey to Colorado is fraught with the chaotic aftermath of the eruption. AJ's anxiety and faith in humanity are put to the test as she heals her past, accepts her family's present, and embraces uncertainty as Will and Reid show her a world she had almost forgotten.

Goodreads * Amazon * Barnes & Noble * Book Depository * IndieBound * Kobo

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EXCERPT:

A gray column of ash exploded on the screen. The plume darkened the sky.

“Mom, come look!” Will said, without turning from the TV.

She fidgeted with the mail on the kitchen counter. Then said a bad word. The metal trash lid clanged open, and she grumbled. He tapped a finger on his thigh as he listened to the newscaster.

A few minutes passed. “Mom…”

“One minute,” she called. He turned. She dragged the basket of dirty laundry from their vacation to Yellowstone down the basement steps. Thump, thump, thump.

“But it’s the volcano! On TV!” His pulse flickered. This was important. She needed to see.

“Hang on a sec, Will.”

The clock read 9:03 p.m. Eastern Time, but it still felt like Mountain Time and he wasn’t sleepy. He counted to one second. He knew she didn’t mean that. Her “a sec” or “a minute” could be way longer.

She returned from the basement and opened the window over the kitchen sink. The metallic, vibrating hum of the foghorn sounded in the distance. He rose and added a tally mark to the chart on his clipboard. Soon, he’d need to make his snow charts, too. But it was only August.

“Where are they?” Mom said.

She came through the doorway to the living room with her mug in one hand. It smelled like burnt stinky milk. He covered his nose.

“Mom, watch out!” She almost stepped on his eight red volcano cut-outs lined in a row in front of the TV. His heart kerthumped. He straightened one, so the bottom edge realigned with the rest. There, better.

“So, honey, what is it? Find an interesting documentary to watch?” she finally asked, drawing her gaze to the TV as she stumbled. “Will, the tape and scissors. I need you to pick them up, okay?” She yawned. “We need to go to bed soon.” She leaned over the coffee table and clicked her laptop shut with another curse. “I can’t even track their flight. Where are they?” she repeated to herself.

Her brown eyes were shiny, holding that sad look she got when she thought about Dad. Some expressions confused him, but Mom was easier to understand than others. She was sad a lot these days. Was she sad about his little brother Finn not returning home yet? He approached her and hugged her around the waist. He nudged the top of his head against her ribcage. “It’s okay, Mom. Finn and Uncle Brandon will be here. Maybe their flights were delayed again?”

She exhaled. Coffee breath. His stomach squeezed. Delays. Yuck, he didn’t like delays either.

She said in a whisper, a raspy grating sound, “They should’ve landed by now…the traffic north to Maine from Boston isn’t awful this time of day. Finn’s going to be so wired.”

But he’s not a robot, Will wanted to say, but he knew it was just one of Mom’s weird phrases. The commercials ended. He grabbed her hand. “Look, Mom. Yellowstone! Maybe Finn and Uncle Brandon saw it erupt since we were all just there! How lucky of them to see that, huh?” He pointed to the LIVE symbol in the bottom right corner.

Her mug slipped and fell in a crash, spilling all over his volcanoes.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Jean’s background is in science and she draws from her interests in history, nature, and her family for inspiration. She writes historical and contemporary romances and women’s fiction. She also writes articles for family-oriented travel magazines. When she’s not writing or chasing children, she enjoys tending to her flower gardens, hiking, and doing just about anything in the outdoors.

Website * Amazon * Bookbub * Facebook * Goodreads * Twitter

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GUEST POST:

- What was an early experience where you learned that language had power?

What an interesting question! I could quote a famous speech by a notable person in our world’s history or an amazingly crafted quotation from a novel, but I find myself falling upon one experience as a child in high school English class. For our assignment, we were told to interpret a poem. I loved writing poetry at the time, so no problem, right? Wrong. Two students in our class, myself included, were pulled aside by the teacher and told we had to re-write our interpretation of the poem. Our viewpoint was incorrect. Ouch! I don’t even remember the poem or author. All I know is that the other student and I thought the phrase “blue sky” symbolized sadness, not happiness, inferred by other elements in the poem. The teacher insisted, no, it is happiness. I remember feeling defeated and defensive, but I did as instructed. I re-wrote my answer the way I was “supposed” to do.

But who is to say how we are “supposed to” interpret words? What is right and what is wrong? Unless we speak to the author and know their clear intention, words are open to subjectivity by the reader. Language can be powerful. Be it a poem, speech, religious text, novel, tweet, or text message…there can be danger or enlightenment in language. Much depends on the audience or reader. Even if an author means one thing, the reader may interpret it another way. We bring our own life experiences and preconceived notions to the table when we read.

So, what is an author to do? (insert shoulder shrug) We write the words, using the language as we know it. Our hope is that others will feel the same experience as us. But if they feel otherwise, it’s not always a bad thing. Sometimes our viewpoint or interpretation is in the minority. And even when 28 students in my class saw that blue sky as “happy,” I knew I was not the only one who viewed it otherwise. Words had power back then.

What did I do with this experience? Well, I learned I loved words. I learned I wasn’t the only one who had viewed that blue as “sad.” I learned language has power but so do our interpretations and actions. I continued to write my poems and stories my way. I also learned that no matter my intentions, and though I have control over what I write, I do not have control of how it impacts my readers. And that’s okay.

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GIVEAWAY:

Jean M. Grant will be awarding a $25 Amazon or Barnes & Noble gift card to a randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter after the tour. Follow the rest of the tour, and leave a comment at a different stop each day to increase your chance of winning. Good luck!

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