Title:
Francesca of Lost Nation
Author:
Lucinda Sue Crosby
Genre:
Historical Fiction, Fiction, Romance
Publisher:
LuckyCinda
Paperback/Ebook
Pages:
244
Purchase:
Book
Description:
Winner
of Four Literary Prizes / Author selected as one of “50 Authors You
Should be Reading” by The Authors Show online media outlet
“Funny
at times and filled with little pearls of everyday wisdom, this book
is as much a romantic thriller as it is a perfect little capsule of a
time gone by. It is a book about love of all kinds - between
grandmother and child, between child and dog, between man and woman.”
This
book is about an unconventional 59-year old woman, Francesca, and her
resourceful 10-year old granddaughter, Sarah, who share the
adventures of a lifetime over the summer of 1947 in Lost Nation,
Iowa. Together, they enchant barnstorming pilots, wow Clinton County
Fair attendees, conquer the skies, confront an escaped arsonist,
discover how Lost Nation got its intriguing name, and eventually
demonstrate to one another the greatest truth about love.
Anyone
who loves their grandmother will enjoy reading this Romance Fiction
about family, friendship and strong women.
Excerpt:
With
only eight days left before my parents’ departure, there were a
gazillion of things to attend to. We actually had lists of lists. And
let’s not forget the blizzard of special delivery letters: One from
Daddyboys to Mr. Toynbee at “World
Travel” accepting the
award; another from Francesca to our relatives in New York telling
them Clay and Rachael would be visiting; and still another to Great
Aunt Maude and Great Uncle Harry who were asked to visit Home Farm to
supposedly help out at Daddyboys’ business but actually to keep
Francesca and me out of trouble. Fat chance!
Travel
documents needed signatures, a money draft had to be drawn up and
trip reservations needed verification. As it turned out, my parents
would also linger an extra day in Manhattan to hammer out the rest of
the “particulars” with the editors of “World
Travel” before venturing
across the pond.
Our
usually silent phone didn’t stop ringing. People we hardly knew
called or stopped by trying to sell my parents luggage,
wallets, passport holders and cures for Montezuma’s Revenge.
Then there was the constant stream of unsolicited advice: Don’t
drink the water; watch out for pickpockets and don’t spoil those
European waiters and bellhops by over tipping.
Daddyboys
was clearly enjoying the spotlight. Forget Lost Nation’s only
newspaper, The
Daily Pulse,
in our tight-knit community, the grape vine was the fastest way to
get the word out and it didn’t take much to start the information
rolling. I recall an afternoon when 1,000 people gathered at one of
the neighboring farms to witness a gizmo dreamed up by a local that
was supposed to pick up and drop mail sacks in one fell swoop.
Apparently, he’d worked on this machine for nearly a decade. That
was considered really BIG news.
These
days, however, the folks just wanted to gaze upon the town’s newest
celebrity, whose face and prose would grace the feature page of a big
time magazine. While my father was basking in the radiance of his
growing fame, Rachael also looked to be caught up in the excitement,
which surprised me. For once, she didn’t seem to care one whit
about having to set her baking aside or letting her beloved stove go
cool for hours at a time.
She and
Francesca were also each other’s constant companions. Together they
hemmed and restitched clothing, redesigning everything “decent”
in my mother's closet at least twice.
Shopping
trips were high on the list. Hats, gloves and shoes were waiting to
be tried on and purchased, not to mention two new sets of suspenders
in gray and blue for Daddyboys.
“And
you need proper lingerie, Rachael. No daughter of mine is going to
Paris without a few frilly under things. It'll add to your
confidence." Francesca pronounced.
While
my mother made a series of ruthless packing decisions, Daddyboys
finalized arrangements for help at the garage while he was gone.
Uncle
Harry would take on the occasional major mechanical problems. But my
father also wanted to bring in someone who already knew the
day-to-day ropes and could help Harry out with the nuts and bolts of
routine maintenance. For that, there wasn’t anyone better than
Abraham Lancer, the solitary taxicab driver in Lost Nation as well as
the head of the only black household.
Abraham
often worked with my father during the winter months when farm
vehicles got their annual overhauls and the taxi business was slow.
So it was decided Abraham and Harry would be looking after things,
with Uncle Harry expected to drive over from Des Moines in a couple
weeks.
The
idea of Harry’s visit, however, was sure to unsettle Francesca.
My
Great Uncle had lived a rather steady sort of life with just one or
two major hitches in the proceedings. He was born and grew up with
his prominent family in Lost Nation, which was where he met the
Pittschtick sisters, Maude, of the gorgeous face, and Francesca of
the regal limbs. Starting in elementary, they had all attended school
together and it was common knowledge that Harry was the catch of the
county, being the eldest son from the wealthiest family in the area.
He was an earnest, sober and sweet-tempered man who early on showed a
gift for both fixing machinery and fiddling with numbers. One thing
was sure - he had no interest in farming and so would have to find
his own way in the world.
Everyone
liked Harry. He was not effusive, yet he got along famously with the
high born and the low brow. And for a time, Harry and Francesca were
deeply and truly in love.
I
wasn’t there for the courtship but was told bits and pieces of the
story many times. Everyone in Lost Nation had an opinion that colored
their own treasured set of “facts.”
About
the Author:
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