{"id":6327,"date":"2010-11-12T18:01:24","date_gmt":"2010-11-12T23:01:24","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/\/?p=6327"},"modified":"2010-11-12T18:01:24","modified_gmt":"2010-11-12T23:01:24","slug":"crestmont-by-holly-weiss","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=6327","title":{"rendered":"Crestmont by Holly Weiss"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/a>\"\"<\/a>It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour<\/a><\/strong><\/span> <\/strong> book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old…or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n


<\/p>\n

Today’s Wild Card author is: <\/strong><\/div>\n


<\/p>\n

Holly Weiss<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

and the book:<\/span> <\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Crestmont <\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Star Publish (April 1, 2010)<\/p>\n

***Special thanks to Holly Weiss for sending me a review copy.***<\/p>\n

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:<\/span> <\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

\"\"<\/a>
\n Holly Weiss is a vocal instructor, retired professional singer and a member of the National Association of Teachers of Singing. A polio survivor, she lives in upstate New York with her husband. Crestmont is her first novel.<\/p>\n

Visit the author’s website<\/a>.<\/p>\n

\n<\/embed><\/object>\n<\/p>\n

Product Details:<\/p>\n

List Price: $18.95
\n Paperback: 340 pages
\n Publisher: Star Publish (April 1, 2010)
\n Language: English
\n ISBN-10: 1935188100
\n ISBN-13: 978-1935188100<\/p>\n

AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:<\/span> <\/strong>
\n <\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

En route to Eagles Mere<\/p>\n


<\/p>\n


<\/p>\n

1925<\/p>\n

People buzzed around the Allentown train station the next day, stopping only to check departure times or to collect their children and suitcases. Gracie bought her ticket, hurriedly counting the rest of the money in her purse. Selecting a magazine called Time from the newsstand next to the ticket counter she leafed through it, lingering over an article about President Coolidge.<\/p>\n

\u201cWatch it, Missy,\u201d growled a man pushing a huge steamer trunk on a dolly. She jumped out of the way and hastily handed the vendor the money for the magazine and a Milky Way candy bar. Thinking she might feel less overwhelmed outside the station, she checked the board for the departing platform for the Wilkes-Barre train and dodged her way out of the terminal.<\/p>\n

On the platform, people were crammed into each available seat, but quickly rose to board when the train to Philadelphia was announced. Gracie sat down alone, set her red suitcase between her legs, and wolfed down the candy bar. She glanced distractedly at the cover of the magazine, realizing she hated the news and politics, but instructed herself to read it on the train to Wilkes-Barre so she could be better informed.<\/p>\n

Ducking her head nervously when people filtered in to catch the next train, Gracie spied a book someone had abandoned called Sister Carrie. Quickly, she snatched if off the bench and browsed through it. The main character was a girl who wanted to go to Chicago and be a famous actress. Excited now that she had a friend with a similar goal to keep her company; she put it in her suitcase just as the conductor called \u201cAll aboard!\u201d Nervously climbing the steep steps onto the train, she settled into a brown leather seat and opened the Time magazine. She tried to read, but remorse gnawed at her concentration like a woodpecker hammering her skull.<\/p>\n

\u201cNe-e-xt stop, Wilkes Ba-a-are.\u201d Clutching her red suitcase, Gracie stepped off the train with an unsettling combination of anticipation and fear. After consulting a man in a maroon uniform with a name tag on his breast pocket, she found the east entrance of the train station where she was to meet the Crestmont car. The clock on the wall said 10:45. Sitting on a bench in the sun, she nervously paged through her magazine while she waited.<\/p>\n

A huge black Buick Touring Car pulled up to the curb with \u201cThe Crestmont Inn\u201d painted on the side in yellow letters. A spindly man in his mid twenties climbed out. He was impeccably dressed in gray and black pinstriped trousers and a gray jacket. Gracie guessed the yellow of his tie had been chosen to match the lettering on the car. He was so skinny that she giggled, imagining herself pushing him over with one finger. He had a very prominent Adam\u2019s apple, a broad forehead and a face that narrowed into a pointy chin.<\/p>\n

Waving to someone behind her on the tracks, he shouted, \u201cDorothy, still keeping those students of yours in line?\u201d His wide smile made Gracie relax a bit.<\/p>\n

Shyly, she stepped forward. \u201cHello, my name is Gracie Antes. Is this the shuttle to the Crestmont Inn?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou must be the new girl.\u201d He stuck out a bony hand. \u201cI\u2019m PT, driver, bowling alley attendant and gofer for Mr. Woods, Crestmont\u2019s owner. Hop in.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I don\u2019t know. I mean, my interview is this afternoon. Will we make it on time?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYup.\u201d Feeling like she had been given an order, Gracie slid into the middle seat of the car.<\/p>\n

The generously proportioned middle-aged woman he had called Dorothy ran from the platform to the car, straw hat flopping, struggling with a suitcase and hatbox. She threw her free arm around PT and kissed him loudly on the cheek. \u201cOh, my word, if it isn\u2019t PT. Isn\u2019t it a long time between summers?\u201d He stashed her suitcase in the trunk along with Gracie\u2019s, and Dorothy slid into the passenger seat in the front.<\/p>\n

A sickeningly sweet odor of roses filled the car. Gracie discretely wound her window down a few inches to let in some air.<\/p>\n

\u201cI nearly missed my trolley to the station. Dear me, I am just neither here nor there without my car. I need to pick it up next week, PT, so I\u2019ll be shuttling back here with you. Hello, there, dear,\u201d she said, extending a hand back to Gracie. \u201cI\u2019m Dorothy, one of the antique waitresses.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPleased to meet you, ma\u2019am. I\u2019m Gracie Antes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, please don\u2019t ma\u2019am me. My students do it all year and it makes me feel old. I need my Crestmont summers to liven up these forty-five-year-old bones. Call me Dorothy. Whew, it certainly is hot enough. Oh look, there\u2019s Isaiah and Olivia. Yoo-hoo!\u201d She beckoned to them from the car window. \u201cAll aboard the Crestmont shuttle.\u201d<\/p>\n

A burly man with skin like coal and big apple cheeks protectively ushered a dainty woman with copper skin into the car. The woman\u2019s elegance and quiet nature made Gracie like her immediately.<\/p>\n

\u201cGuess that\u2019s it for this run,\u201d PT said, starting the engine.<\/p>\n

After they introduced themselves, Isaiah pounded Gracie on the back and said, \u201cOne big happy family, right, Olivia?\u201d He drew the palm of his wife\u2019s tiny hand to his lips and kissed it. Sniffing suspiciously, he wrinkled his nose. \u201cLord Almighty, Dorothy, I hate that roses stink stuff you wear. Don\u2019t you bring that smell into my kitchen, hear?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s imported Ashes of Roses eau de cologne, Isaiah,\u201d she corrected him. \u201cIt was Lawrence\u2019s favorite, bless my dear husband\u2019s soul, and as long as Sears carries it, I will continue to wear it. And as far as your kitchen goes, there are so many aromas floating about no one will notice a little perfume. Besides, Mrs. Swett loves it and says so each summer when she hands me a fine tip.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know how you can be so hotsy-totsy to those old biddies in the dining room. They act like they run the place instead of Mr. Woods. You are crazy to take those tables near the lakeside windows, Dorothy. Why, you have to deal with all three of them at once, plus two husbands. Who\u2019s that one always feeling like she\u2019s sick\u2014Mrs. Pennyswoon?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMrs. Pennington, Isaiah. Be kind, now,\u201d Olivia said softly, with a slight accent Gracie couldn\u2019t identify.<\/p>\n

\u201cFirst of all, Isaiah,\u201d Dorothy instructed, \u201cif you ever stepped out of your kitchen you would see that the west window tables afford a commanding view of the lake and are therefore reserved for our, shall we say, more faithful, well-to-do guests. Secondly, Mrs. Woods has graciously assigned them to me because she feels I have the maturity and skills to mitigate some of their outlandish behavior.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, PT,\u201d Isaiah chuckled, \u201ctranslate, please.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDorothy is good at keeping the Rude Regals in line, so Mrs. Woods gives her the tables where she gets really great tips.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks, pal,\u201d said Isaiah.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, my word, I simply am beside myself when I hear people call them the Rude Regals. They are people with problems, just like you and me. Mrs. Pennington\u2019s ailments are an indication that she needs some attention. Miss Woodford simply feels she is of a higher station than anyone else. If I can show some special attention or give deference to make someone happy, then I will do it. Besides, I find it a challenge to use my people skills on a higher level with the adults at the Crestmont than with my elementary students.\u201d<\/p>\n

The more everyone else talked, the more Gracie knew it would take some doing to feel like she fit in. Her stomach grumbled, and she wished she had bought more than a candy bar for lunch. The clouds she watched from her window glided like wavy streamers in the sky. As they motored toward the Crestmont, her eyes got heavy. Realizing that she would need a lot more energy before the day was over; she turned her head toward the window and tried to sleep. \u201cDear God,\u201d she prayed, \u201cPlease make this be all right. If I was wrong to do it, then turn it for good.\u201d<\/p>\n

After a long drive, PT slowed the car when they passed through stone pillars on either side of the Crestmont driveway. They ascended a steep hill to an immense three-story brown building with yellow awnings. PT parked the car. Gracie stood nervously by while the others grabbed their luggage and dashed off in a flash, saying, \u201cSee you soon!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on, I\u2019ll show you to Mr. Woods\u2019 office,\u201d PT said, lifting Gracie\u2019s suitcase out of the trunk. Gracie took in the immensity of the porch as they walked up the center steps. Once they were inside the striking lobby area, PT pointed to a huge grandfather clock. \u201cThat\u2019s my favorite. Name\u2019s Old Tim,\u201d he explained. \u201cMrs. Woods\u2019 father had it shipped from England when he built the place.\u201d<\/p>\n

Gracie\u2019s heart started to flutter. Oh, honestly, what had she gotten herself into? She tried not to trip over her own feet.<\/p>\n

PT knocked on an office door, flicked his eyes toward it and said, \u201cThey\u2019re swell people. Good luck.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCome in!\u201d called a high-pitched, authoritative male voice.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

MY REVIEW:<\/strong><\/p>\n

Crestmont<\/a> is a novel that left me with mixed feelings. I did enjoy learning the history of\u00a0 the Crestmont Inn and all the background details that were required to manage it well. Descriptions of the inn, its owners, its staff, and its patrons were vivid and interesting.<\/p>\n

However, as a novel, the story never did quite gel for me. Although some character relationships were well developed, other important ones were quite lacking. At the end of the story, I learned which man Grace eventually married but there was actually very little in the book about their courtship and romance. Other characters that seemed to be important just disappeared with little explanation. Crestmont<\/a> is not a plot or character driven book in my opinion but its star is the inn itself.<\/p>\n

For those who love learning about the history and inner workings of former haunts of the wealthy and can overlook the lack of real action, Crestmont<\/a> would be an excellent read.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[8,34],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6327","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-books","category-historical"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6327"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=6327"}],"version-history":[{"count":11,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6327\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6352,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6327\/revisions\/6352"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=6327"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=6327"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=6327"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}