EVER CONSTANT - Tracie Peterson, Kimberley Woodhouse - One Free Book

Dear Blog Readers, today I'm featuring Ever Constant by Tracie Peterson and Kimberley Woodhouse. Instead of an interview, we have a note from both of the authors and an excerpt from the book. I hope you enjoy it. I know I want to read the rest of the book after reading this passage. We will have the regular free book drawing.

Several years ago, Tracie and I were having a book signing and fund-raising event for the scholarship fund in Cassidy Hale’s honor with the launch of our Heart of Alaska series’ In the Shadow of Denali. Music students of mine—the Powell girls—came to meet their beloved favorite author, Tracie Peterson. The girls’ mom—Monica—and I are dear friends, and she’s quite a fan as well. The excitement as the foursome walked into the event was contagious. Even though the girls knew me really well, had spent hours at my home, and understood that I had written several books already with Tracie, the joy of getting to meet her in person put them over the moon and in total fan mode. Giggles and smiles and chatter filled the air.

It was at that event that Tracie looked at me and said, “Books need to be written about three precocious, musical, redheaded sisters.”

The Treasures of Nome series was born that day. The three main characters throughout this series are named after my precious girls. (I will always claim them Ever Constant as mine—once a student of mine, always one of my kids.) Whitney, Havyn, and Madysen. And while we might have used a few character traits of the real girls, the Powell sisters in our series are purely fictitious. I’m truly thankful that the real sisters haven’t had to endure all the craziness we threw at the characters in our books.

Tracie and I have loved sharing these girls, the chicken stories, the sled dogs, the chaos with the sheep, the cheese making, and all the other adventures in this series with you.

For those of you who have read Jack London’s Call of the Wild or have seen the movie, you know the command mush is used to get the dogs to go. Most likely this is the English derivation from the French-Canadian marche, which meant “go.”

In this book, you will find these terms: Let’s go simply means “go.” (The most common terms used are hike, let’s go, and all right, which you might remember me using in Race Against Time.)

Haw means “turn left.”

Gee means “turn right.”

Whoa means “slow down and come to a stop.”

Because I have spent so much time with real-life dog-sled pros while we lived in Alaska and during research trips there, I want to honor the knowledge they’ve poured into me and respect the amazing sport.

The Grand Nome Hotel and Golden Palace Restaurant in this book are fictitious. I know how many of you love the historical landmarks we use, but in this instance we needed to create something for the purposes of the story.

You will also notice that there are two different terms used for the native people. Inupiat is plural, Inupiaq is singular. There you have it, your language lesson for the day. Lastly, I wanted to tell you about something that a lot of people don’t know. Are you ready?

The northern lights—auroras—make noise.

This is shown in Ever Constant, and I wanted to assure you that, yes, it is true! I’ve heard them many times myself, but it’s not loud. In fact, the best way to truly experience them is to be out away from everything else. Their sound has been described as crackling, the bursting of soap bubbles, and sputtering. Sometimes you have to concentrate on listening to actually hear them.

Check out the Note from the Authors at the end of the book for some fun facts and links. And make sure you join us for our next series, which takes place in Kalispell, Montana. As always, we couldn’t do what we do without YOU, our readers.

Enjoy the journey, Kim and Tracie

Prologue

Cripple Creek, Colorado—1889

Flurries of snow drifted down from the dark and cloudy sky. Whitney Powell shivered and lifted her face to the heavens as she stopped in the middle of the quiet street. Mama would scold her for being out in the wee hours of the morning, but it was her mother’s tears that woke her.

Daddy wasn’t home. Again. Which meant one thing. Whitney wanted to growl out her anger and throw something. Really hard. She’d been old enough to understand what was going on for a couple of years now. No matter how much her parents tried to hide it.

Lifting her chin, she clenched her jaw against the chill in the wind and shoved her hands into her coat pockets. She had to fix Mama’s tears. Havyn and Madysen were too young. So even if she had to drag her good-for-nothin’ father back from the saloon––again––at least he would be home.

She cringed. Good for nothin’? What a horrible thought! What would Mama say? How often had she drilled into her that thoughts were just as important as the words that came out of her mouth? Reminded her that God knew every one of them?

No doubt about it, their mother would be crushed. And she’d be so embarrassed if she found out that her oldest daughter had gone to Saloon Row to haul her father home. More than once.

Mama was the best lady in the world. And the most talented. If only she could stand up for herself. She always saw the good in everyone, believed in them, cheered them on, and recognized what she called their potential.

Why couldn’t she see that people took advantage of her goodwill? No matter how many times Mama had been hurt, she’d still forgive.

Whitney gritted her teeth. In all her ten years, she’d never met anyone on earth as good as her mama. If only she could be as kind and generous. No matter how much she tried to mimic her mother’s behavior, she couldn’t do it. Mama’s patience and goodness rivaled that of any saint. Granddad said so himself.

“Maybe by the time I’m all grown up I can be like Mama.” Her words puffed from her mouth in the icy air.

For now, as the oldest daughter, it fell to her to take care of their mother when their father wasn’t capable of doing it. She’d gone to get him four times now. Four. She’d had to scrape up all her courage to go to the saloons that first time, but she’d done it. Because she loved her Mama and couldn’t watch her suffer and worry.

She shook her head and continued walking toward Saloon Row. The still of the evening was disrupted by sounds of  the establishments ahead. The noise crescendoed with every few steps.

How many more times would she have to do this? How long before someone found out? She’d thought about askingGranddad for help. Other than her sisters, he was her best friend. But he already didn’t think too well of Daddy. . . .

The wind bit at her face while the scent of logs burning in stoves filled her nose.

Music from the saloons drifted toward her, and she flinched. It was nothing like the beautiful music they played and sang at home. This was harsh, raucous, and out of tune. How could people even stand it? It hurt her ears. The closer she got, the more she hated the sound, the noise, the smells. Oh, to curl up in her bed like her younger sisters and go to sleep as if she didn’t have the weight of the world on her shoulders. All because Daddy couldn’t control himself.

Two men wobbled down the street toward her, then one of them doubled over and got sick in the middle of the road. She covered her face with her scarf and stepped several paces around them. Why did they do that to themselves? Disgusting.

Picking up her stride, she kept her chin down. There were things here that she didn’t want to see.

Not again.

Questions peppered her brain. She wouldn’t allow them entry. Best to think about music. Mama. Havyn and Madysen.

Wait a minute . . . the hairs on the back of her neck prickled and a shiver raced up her spine. A lump in the street—no, not a lump. A man.

For a moment, she couldn’t take another step. Could barely breathe. No. Please. That scrawny heap couldn’t be her father. But . . . the blue coat.

She’d recognize the coat anywhere. Mama made it for him last Christmas.

With a deep breath, she moved forward. At least she could be thankful he wasn’t inside one of the saloons. She hated going in them. The adults always tried to shoo her out, but her presence made it easier to get her dad out the door. No one wanted a little girl inside.

The closer her feet brought her to the telltale form, the more she wanted to run away. But then she was standing beside him. Daddy wasn’t moving. Was he even breathing?

She knelt down beside him and poked at his shoulder. Hard.

Nothing happened. When she touched his face, it was cold. Her stomach revolted and her heart sank.

Oh, Daddy . . .

Shaking her head, she closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. A sharp clenching in her chest made her gasp for air. She fought the tears that threatened to flood her eyes and race down her face. He wouldn’t leave them . . . would he?

As much as she detested his actions, he was still her daddy.

She leaned her ear close to his face. He stunk. It made her stomach turn again.

She couldn’t hear any breath. She poked him again. Harder. And again. Even harder.

“Daddy?” She shook him with all she had. No response.

She touched his face again. Cold. But it was snowing outside, and the temperature was frigid. Maybe he was passed out. He did that at home all the time lately.

Sitting down beside him, she shook him and poked him. Over and over. If he was dead . . . what would they do? Mama and Havyn and Madysen would cry. So would she.

What would become of them?

Ever Constant • T. Peterson, K. Woodhouse Bethany House, a division of Baker Publishing Group © 2022 used by permission 

Thank you, Tracie and Kim, for sharing this new book with us today. I’m eager to read it, and I know many of my blog readers will be, too.

Readers, here’s a link to the book.

https://www.amazon.com/Ever-Constant-Treasures-Nome-Book-ebook/dp/B09B2N4XY4/ref=sr_1_2?keywords=Ever+Constant+Tracie+Peterson+and+Kimberly+Woodhouse&qid=1644962894&s=books&sr=1-2

Leave a comment for a chance to win a free copy of the book. You must follow these instructions to be in the drawing. Please tell us where you live, at least the state or territory or country if outside North America. (Comments containing links may be subject to removal by blog owner.)

Void where prohibited; the odds of winning depend on the number of entrants. Entering the giveaway is considered a confirmation of eligibility on behalf of the enterer in accord with these rules and any pertaining local/federal/international laws.

The only notification you’ll receive is the winner post on this blog. So be sure to check back a week from Saturday to see if you won. You will have 2 weeks from the posting of the winners to claim your book.

If you’re reading this on Goodreads, Feedblitz, Facebook, Twitter, Linkedin, or Amazon, please come to the blog to leave your comment if you want to be included in the drawing. Here’s a link: Http://lenanelsondooley.blogspot.com