Monday, November 9, 2015

Throwback Monday? K.S. Jones takes us back with her historical fiction!

Ahoy, lovely readers, and welcome to another wonderful Fiction Feature! 

I’m happy to give you yet another read outside of my standard YA fantasy/sci-fi realm. Got any history buffs reading this blog? If so, then you’re in luck! This week’s Fiction Feature is about the infamous Great Depression Era. Have a look at K.S. Jones's award-winning novel, Shadow of the Hawk!

It is May 1932 and life in the timbered rise and fall of Western Arkansas has just gotten harder for sixteen-year-old Sooze Williams. With debt mounting and both friends and family fleeing, Sooze is determined to "do the right thing." She promises her heart to a well-to-do man believing true love is just another loss along the way. But when her uncle is murdered and family is accused of the crime, Sooze faces a different kind of battle. One too important to lose.

Debt, murder, and marriage during the Great Depression? And a teenager has to deal with them? I hope you’re all just as eager as I am to find out how Sooze overcomes her obstacles! Shadow of the Hawk has been on the e-shelves for some time, but I’m happy to say that it recently became available in print! You can check it out and order at the links below:







And if you’re still not convinced that its just as great as those Depression works of fiction you read in school, check out these glowing reviews by many authors and literary magazines! Many compare Jones’s work to Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath!

"The realism of John Steinbeck meets the thrill of John Grisham in this tale of love, sacrifice and betrayal." ~ Reader's Entertainment Magazine

"This is one of those young adult novels that every adult will want to read. It's filled with wonderful characters and a heartwarming story set in the midst of America's darkest days, the Great Depression. Jones' voice is reminiscent of Steinbeck's at his best." ~ W. Michael Gear and Kathleen O'Neal Gear, USA Today and New York Times bestselling authors of People of the Thunder

"With a clarity reminiscent of Steinbeck’s Grapes of Wrath, K.S. Jones gently draws the reader into a masterful description of the grit and hard times of one farm family's struggles during the Great Depression." ~ Alethea Williams, author of orphan train novel Walls for the Wind

"The story is so realistic the reader may very well find themselves within pages emotionally, caught up in the drama. Hands down it is equal to, if not better than Steinbeck's "The Grapes of Wrath." ~ InD'Tale Magazine

“Author K.S. Jones exhibits great skill as a writer in her book Shadow of the Hawk. Jones vividly portrays the story of the tight-knit Williams clan with roots planted firmly in their faith, family, and the land which they hold so dear. This work of fiction, which maintains its historical accuracy throughout, is a compelling tale and offers a glorious glimpse into the tenacity of one family as they demonstrate the unconditionality of love beneath the shadow of adversity.” ~Literary Classics Book Reviews

And if you need even more of an incentive to buy Shadow of the Hawk, here’s a little excerpt:


The town of Coaldale wound through the timbered valley like a black snake in the dark hole of an outhouse. Folks knew it was there by the grim feeling it posed, but the need to stay overpowered the urge to run.

I had lived my whole life in the low-lying basin between the Arkansas Western Railroad and the Poteau River — the only river in the state which flowed north. Fitting, I suppose. It seemed everything had turned around backwards and was running the wrong way. I wasn't blaming God though. A lot of trouble we caused ourselves.

Take my older brother, Henry, for instance. Making good decisions was out of his reach. But with my best friend, Leona, bound for California, he'd moved up a notch on my short list of friends. After school, I went looking for him and found him pitching pennies behind Doc's office. When he saw the sorrowful look on my face, he'd gathered up his winnings and come without me having to ask.

As we stood beneath the lopsided shadow of the Chinquapin tree between the jailhouse and the store, I killed time talking about the school lesson he had missed.

"Miss Stewart says the Panhandle folks can't even eat a meal of beans without the grit and dust wearin' their teeth away. Beans and mud. I don't think I could live like that."

But some days a bad attitude just popped out of Henry. Mama said it's because he is itching to be a man. I think it's because he is tired of being nobody.

"Sooze, what makes you think we're any better off than those folks?" This being his last year of school, Henry talked like he knew something about everything. "We ain't got any dirt in our beans, and our lungs ain't filled with dust, but we ain't got much else neither."

Henry wore Daddy's hand-me-down overalls, and even though he'd rolled the hems twice, they still dragged the ground. He'd spent a lifetime telling me he was “only short for now,” but he'd never grown much taller than my 5' 5" height, and that was a far-shot shorter than Daddy. Using his fingers, he combed his reddish-brown hair back from his face, and with eyes as rich as pure honey, he stared at me.

"I'd suffer through a little dirt in my food if I could get me a T-bone and some potato pone, wouldn't you?" He pulled his “lucky piece” out of his hip pocket. It was nothing more than an old stag-handled knife handed down to him from our granddaddy, but he called it his good luck charm. Like an ear of corn, he held it up to his mouth, and with a chomp, chomp, chomp, he pretended to eat it. "Heck, Sooze, anything's better than poke salad and corn."

Henry always looked at the dark side of things, and I didn't want to encourage him, so I thought it best to ignore him altogether. I circled the tree, kicking up dust off the bone-dry ground. Keeping one hand on the pine, I pushed my other inside my dress pocket finding a new hole. It had worn clean through the pink, flowery patch I'd sewn onto my green dress trying to hide a stain. Even though I'd mended it many times over, Mama said the dress still looked pretty on me. She said it matched my green eyes and rosy cheeks and made my blond hair “look like an angel's.”

But it didn't matter to Henry whether I was paying attention to him or not, he just kept talking anyway.

"Shoot! At least those folks got automobiles, and here we are still with a horse and wagon! We're about as backward and poor as you get, Sooze."

"Life ain't all hard biscuits, Henry!" I said with a stomp of my foot. "We got other things."

Our family still owned two cows, six prize hogs, almost three dozen chickens, and a field planted full of corn. And every night at supper, Daddy still bowed his head to thank the good Lord that hard times hadn't stripped us clean. I always listened to the tone of Daddy's voice, too, because Mama said you could hear defeat in a man's voice long before it settled in his brain, and I knew I hadn't heard it yet.

Before you rush off to buy it, let me tell you where you can reach our award-winning author! Did I mention KS Jones recently won a GOLD medal at the 2015 Literary Classics Book Awards? Give her a pat on the back and learn more about her other works here:

And that’s it for now! I’m still hammering away at NaNoWriMo 2015. Got to 20k words yesterday, woot woot! Good luck to all my fellow writers taking on November, and of course stay tuned here for all things YA fiction and Lucid!

Until next time, keep readin’ and dreamin’!


1 comment:

  1. Thanks for sharing my book with your wonderful readers! You're an awesome hostess!