Today I welcome guest author and blogger Linda Shenton Matchett as she shares about her upcoming release.

Here in northern New England, the nights have begun to cool and bits of foliage can be seen among the trees. As a result, my thoughts have already turned to Thanksgiving which is my favorite holiday.

Growing up, my family moved a lot because of my father’s job, but no matter where we lived, we could always count on getting in the car and traveling to Maryland to visit my maternal grandparents and extended family for Thanksgiving. The adults ate at the dining room table which seated twelve people, and my cousins and I were relegated to card tables in the living room. (I later discovered that was the more fun place to be.)

My grandmother and great-aunt must have taken days to prepare. The menu included roast beef, turkey, ham, white potatoes cooked at least three different ways, sweet potatoes, and a plethora of vegetables from my grandfather’s “garden,” a two-acre plot of every imaginable type of produce. Multiple desserts were available but always included my great-aunt’s coconut cake. My grandparents didn’t own a dishwasher so we kids had the responsibility of washing the dishes.

It was a full day of eating, talking, playing, watching football, and more eating. And there were plenty of leftovers for families to take home. (My parents typically brought an empty cooler!) Nowadays, my Thanksgiving celebrations are smaller, but just as joyful as I take the opportunity to count my blessings.

Because of my love of the holiday, when approached to participate in the multi-author project, Thanksgiving Books & Blessings, I jumped at the opportunity. As a way to honor my mother who passed away last year, I based the main character Francine’s job on the stories Mom told about her time at Fort Meade typing discharge paperwork for the men returning from the Korean War. Despite our English surname, most of my father’s family has German heritage, so I brought that aspect into the story as well. One ancestor anglicized his last name prior to World War I, and my grandmother’s sister changed the spelling on their surname prior to WWII, hoping to make it seem less German. I hope my story honors them all in some way.

For a chance to win an EBOOK edition of Francine’s Foibles share a tradition for one of your favorite holidays. Include your cleverly disguised email address. For example, donna AT livebytheword DOT com

About I:

She's given up hope. He never had any. Will they find it together?

World War II is finally over, and America is extra grateful as the country approaches this year’s Thanksgiving. But for Francine life hasn’t changed. Despite working at Fort Meade processing the paperwork for the thousands of men who have returned home, she’s still lonely and very single. Is she destined for spinsterhood?

Grateful that his parents anglicized the family surname after emigrating to the United States after the Great War, first-generation German-American Ray Fisher has done all he can to hide his heritage. He managed to make it through this second “war to end all wars,” but what American woman would want to marry into a German family. Must he leave the country to find wedded bliss?

Purchase link: https://amzn.to/3Z4cz0y

About Linda: 

Linda Shenton Matchett writes about ordinary people who did extraordinary things in days gone by. A native of Baltimore, Maryland, she was born a stone’s throw from Fort McHenry (of Star-Spangled Banner fame) and has lived in historical places all her life. She now lives in central New Hampshire where she is a volunteer docent and archivist at the Wright Museum of WWII.

Connecting Online:

Website/Blog/Newsletter Signup: http://www.LindaShentonMatchett.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/groups/lindashentonmatchettsreadersgroup

Moments in History: http://www.youtube.com/@lindamatchett

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/linda-shenton-matchett

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author_linda_matchett

A Peek inside Francine’s Foibles:

October 1945

Hands slick on the Studebaker’s steering wheel as she approached the guardhouse, Francine O’Malley sat up straighter. The sun glinted off the hood of the Oldsmobile, and she squinted against the glare. She’d been working at Fort Meade for two weeks, but she still wasn’t used to the scrutiny and ambience of secrecy on the base.

The line of vehicles in front of her moved forward. She inched closer to the pickup and the uniformed man standing outside the tiny hut at the entrance. She slipped her hand into her pocketbook and rummaged through the contents for her badge. Proof she had every right to enter the sprawling campus.

Nearly a month had passed since the war ended for good with the surrender of Japan, and the government had hired countless women to help process the discharges for returning soldiers, sailors, and airmen. The opportunity couldn’t have come at a better time.

She’d been getting bored working at the library, then her coworker Estelle DeLuca had announced her pregnancy, a reminder that at thirty-two Francine was still unmarried without a prospect in sight. It wasn’t as if she begrudged Estelle and her husband, Aubrey, their happiness, but the constant reminder of her singleness wasn’t something Francine relished.

After years of Francine taking care of her, Mother had succumbed to her illness just before the war began, then every eligible man in Laurel seemed to disappear overnight, either into the armed forces overseas or working long hours in one of the secret facilities that dotted the Washington, DC and Baltimore surrounding areas. She’d volunteered a couple of times at the USO club, but she was ten years older than most of the recruits, many of whom were leaving high school or college sweethearts behind, and their shining faces were yet another reminder she was alone.

“Stop! You’ve got a job to do, and you do it well.” Francine glared at her reflection in the rearview mirror. One more vehicle, and she’d be inside the base. A sigh escaped. “You don’t need a man to be valued.”

A warm breeze wafted into the car and stroked her face. Summer’s humidity was gone, but the temperatures remained high. The leaves wouldn’t start changing for another few weeks. Returning troops had to be thrilled they wouldn’t be spending another Christmas thousands of miles from home. There’d already been four weddings at church. How many more would occur before 1945 was a distant memory?