Showing posts with label excerpt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label excerpt. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 15, 2015

The Santa Claus Man by Alex Palmer Excerpt & Giveaway

About The Santa Claus Man

Hardcover: 320 pages

Publisher: Lyons Press (October 1, 2015)

The Wolf of Wall Street in this true crime adventure, set in New York City in the Roaring Twenties.


Before the charismatic John Duval Gluck, Jr. came along, letters from New York City children to Santa Claus were destroyed, unopened, by the U.S. Post Office Department. Gluck saw an opportunity, and created the Santa Claus Association. The effort delighted the public, and for 15 years money and gifts flowed to the only group authorized to answer Santa’s mail. Gluck became a Jazz Age celebrity, rubbing shoulders with the era’s movie stars and politicians, and even planned to erect a vast Santa Claus monument in the center of Manhattan — until Gotham’s crusading charity commissioner discovered some dark secrets in Santa’s workshop.


The rise and fall of the Santa Claus Association is a caper both heartwarming and hardboiled, involving stolen art, phony Boy Scouts, a kidnapping, pursuit by the FBI, a Coney Island bullfight, and above all, the thrills and dangers of a wild imagination. It’s also the larger story of how Christmas became the extravagant holiday we celebrate today, from Santa’s early beginnings in New York to the country’s first citywide tree lighting to Macy’s first grand holiday parade. The Santa Claus Man is a holiday tale with a dark underbelly, and an essential read for lovers of Christmas stories, true crime, and New York City history.


Other holiday highlights found in The Santa Clause Man:


* The secret history of Santa letters, including a trove of original Santa letters and previously unpublished correspondences between the post office and charity groups arguing whether Santa’s mail should be answered.


* The surprising origins of Christmas as we celebrate it today. From “Twas the Night Before Christmas” to the image of Santa Claus popularized by Coca-Cola, this book outlines how modern Christmas came to be, and includes a standalone timeline of holiday milestones. 


* The rise of modern-day charity—and charity fraud. Unchecked giving exploded after the First World War and this book follows this growth, as well as some of the most egregious exploiters of the country’s goodwill (including the Santa Claus Man himself), and how they were finally exposed.


* Dozens of original vintage holiday photos, including a sculpture of Santa Claus made of 5,000 pulped letters to Santa, and a detailed sketch of a proposed Santa Claus Building, planned but never built in midtown Manhattan.

“Highly readable” — Publishers Weekly


“Required reading” — New York Post


“A rich, sensational story of holiday spirit corrupted by audacity and greed, fueled by the media at the dawning of the Jazz Age.”— Greg Young, cohost of Bowery Boys NYC history podcast 

“A Christmas pudding of a book, studded with historical nuggets and spiced with larceny.”— Gerard Helferich, author of Theodore Roosevelt and the Assassin 


 The Santa Claus Man was featured in this New York Times post entitled "Mama Says That Santa Claus Does Not Come to Poor People".
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Excerpt


On Thursday, December 22, 1927, as Gluck was in the thick of association operations, Coler summoned him to his office. Receiving the summons, it likely struck Gluck as a mild annoyance. He had been investigated by at least a half dozen agencies and officials, none of whom had been able to definitively prove anything amiss about the group. His biggest concern was that this was the most important week of the year for the association, with checks and gifts coming in fast. But it was not a request he could ignore. So Gluck donned his expensive trench coat and bowler to protect him from the chilly winter day and made his way to the Manhattan Municipal Building. He wore round spectacles, gloves, black shoes and spats, and sported an impeccably waxed mustache.

Coler invited Gluck in and offered him a seat. Unmoved by Gluck’s usual gestures of bonhomie, the commissioner wasted no time on niceties. He had a long list of questions and other business to handle this Christmas week and he was sure Gluck did as well, so he got down to business. The commissioner explained that he had concerns about the Santa Claus Association’s finances and fund-raising, and he hoped that the group’s founder could illuminate the workings of the group. With that, Coler began.

How much money is the Santa Claus Association generating from all these fund-raising letters? Gluck could not say. Can you name the group’s officers? Gluck could not name them all offhand, nor did he know exactly how many were employed to investigate letters or buy the gifts. He would have to check back at headquarters. Could you name the members of the board of directors? He’d have to get back to Coler on that question. Can you at least tell the Commission how many officials receive salaries? He could not. Well, then, who is in charge of the group’s finances? Gluck admitted that at the moment, despite his inability to answer the man’s most basic financial questions about the association, he alone oversaw the group’s finances.

Astounded by Gluck’s stonewalling, Coler switched lines of questioning. How many names are on the group’s mailing list? Gluck had no idea. Well, where did you get their information? From the Capital & Labor Bureau for Economic Research. Who can we contact at this bureau for more information? Well, he explained, as the founder and president of the Capital & Labor Bureau for Economic Research, Gluck himself would probably be the best person to ask, but he did not have access to the list at the moment. With what other organizations are you associated? Promotion and investigation were “his life work,” Gluck explained—he could hardly list every group he organized or assisted when put on the spot like this.

The stalling, dissembling, and nonanswering continued for two hours. It became plain to Coler that Gluck could not, or almost certainly more likely would not, provide the information he sought. His obfuscations made it difficult for the Public Welfare man to even understand how the group ran, let alone where all the money went. He demanded Gluck provide him with the organization’s documents, including a full list of the donations received and gifts distributed. Gluck protested: doing so would be an enormous inconvenience for the association at the moment, right in the midst of its busiest week. He described for Coler the vast operation he was running, painting a picture reminiscent of the group’s massive second and third years: hundreds of volunteers rushing through the association headquarters, ladies in floral hats addressing envelopes, and celebrities dropping by. But instead of providing his much-needed help to these activities, Gluck was stuck in the municipal building, answering questions.

“It would interfere with the organization” mere days ahead of Christmas, he complained. Irritated, the commissioner threatened to get the district attorney involved. This threat did not worry Gluck. He had gone toe-to-toe with the DA a decade earlier and knew that he was operating, if barely, within the city’s laws. He demanded that, unless Coler had any more evidence against him, the commissioner let him get back to the more important work of fulfilling the city’s Christmas wishes. Knowing he had pulled all he could from Gluck for the time being, the commissioner reluctantly thanked him for his time. As soon as the Santa Claus Man left his office, Coler discussed with a few of his trusted advisors how to proceed. If Gluck refused to bring his books to them, he decided, they would get them from him.

Special blog tour Christmas gift: Get a free Santa bookplate signed by the author, plus two vintage Santa Claus Association holiday seals. Just email proof once you buy The Santa Claus Man (online receipt, photo of bookstore receipt, etc.) along with the mailing address where you'd like the gift sent to santaclausmanbook[at]gmail[dot]com. Email before 12/21 to guarantee delivery by Christmas. 



UnknownAbout Alex Palmer

Author Alex Palmer has written for Slate, Vulture, Smithsonian Magazine, New York Daily News and many other outlets. The author of previous nonfiction books Weird-o-Pedia and Literary Miscellany, he is also the great-grandnephew of John Duval Gluck, Jr. 

Connect with Alex 
Website | Facebook | Twitter


Thanks to TLC for including 
me on the Excerpt Tour.

Please visit other stops on The Santa Claus Man blog tour page.

Monday, August 10, 2015

Starlight on Willow Lake by Susan Wiggs Excerpt Tour

About Starlight on Willow Lake

Hardcover: 384 pages
Publisher: Mira (August 25, 2015)

Join #1 New York Times bestselling author Susan Wiggs on a journey to a charming Catskills town that feels like home and where a cast of brilliantly drawn characters awaits in a poignant story of reconciliation and the healing power of love.  

Mason Bellamy’s world is fast, loud and decorated with the most extreme risks. Nothing can tempt him to give up his high-rolling Manhattan life and high-maintenance girlfriend—not even family. When he’s called home to upstate Avalon to help his quadriplegic mother in her deepest time of need, he sets his mind on temporary, determined to craft a way to care for her from a distance.

Alice Hayes is supposed to be his best solution. Hiring the gentle-hearted yet struggling caregiver as a live-in nurse gives Alice and her two daughters shelter, his mother companionship and Mason the freedom to escape to his adrenaline-pumped, no-attachments routine. But Alice’s beautiful presence promises to repair Mason’s frayed family ties. And his unstoppable attraction to Alice could lead to the most exhilarating thrill of his life.

“Wiggs’s storytelling is heartwarming… [for] romance and women’s fiction readers of any age.”—Publishers Weekly
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Excerpt
“I’d kill the fatted calf for you, but I’m a bit indisposed at the moment,” Alice Bellamy said when Mason arrived at the estate on Willow Lake.

“That’s okay. I’m a vegetarian anyway.” Mason wondered if his mother realized that he had not eaten meat since the age of twelve.

Crossing the elegant room to where she sat near a window, he bent down and brushed his lips against her cheek. Soap and lotion, a freshly laundered blouse, the smells he had always associated with her. Except in the past, she’d been able to offer the briefest of hugs, to reach out with her hand and smooth the hair back from his brow, a gesture that had persisted since his childhood.

Concealing a wrenching sense of sorrow, he took a seat across from her. He studied her face, startled at how little she had changed—from the neck up. Shiny blond hair, lovely skin, cornflower-blue eyes. He’d always been proud to have such a youthful, good-looking mom. 


“You broke your collarbone,” he said.

“So I’m told.”

“I thought you’d be in a cast or a sling or something.”

She pursed her lips. “It’s not as if I need to keep my arm immobilized.”

“Uh, yeah.” Since the accident, he didn’t know how to deal with his mother. Who was he kidding? He’d never known how to deal with her. “Are you in…does it hurt?”

“Darling boy, I can’t feel anything below my chest. Not pain or pleasure. Nothing.”

He let several seconds tick past while he tried to think of a reply that didn’t sound phony or patronizing or flat-out ignorant. “I’m glad you’re all right. You gave us a scare.”

More silence echoed through the room, an open lounge with a massive river-rock fireplace, fine furnishings and floor-to-ceiling shelves crammed with books. Everything was spaced and arranged to accommodate his mother’s chair. There was a corner study with a big post office writing desk and another corner with a powerful brass telescope set on a tripod. The baby grand piano, which had occupied every house the family had ever lived in, was now a resting place for a collection of photos.

The ever-present view of Willow Lake was framed by French doors, which could be operated by a switch. “So anyway,” he said, “we’ll get you fixed up with a new helper right away. My assistant is working with a couple of agencies already.” He checked his watch. “I’ve got plenty to keep us busy for the day. The lawyer is coming in half an hour. Are you up for that?”

“Lawyer?” She frowned then took a sip through a straw from the coffee mug affixed to the tray on her chair.

“My attorney in the city recommended someone local, from here in Ulster County—”

“Whatever for?”

“To deal with the negligence suit against the caregiver who let you fall down the stairs, and the outfit he works for.”

“Oh, no, you don’t. It was just a stupid accident,” she said. “Nobody’s fault.”

“Mom, you fell down a flight of stairs with a three-hundred-pound motorized chair. It’s a miracle you weren’t crushed. Somebody was negligent—”

“That would be me,” she stated. “I leaned on the control and drove myself off the rails.”

“Then the chair manufacturer is at fault.”

“No lawyers,” she said. “What I—what happened was no one’s fault. There will be no lawsuit. End of story.”

“Mom, you’re entitled to a settlement.” If there was one thing Mason couldn’t stand, it was people failing to take responsibility for their actions.

“Absolutely not,” she said. “I won’t hear another word about it.”

He sent Brenda a text message to cancel the lawyer. “Whatever you say. That gives us more time to meet with potential new caregivers.”

“Lovely.”

“Adam warned me that you were going to be a sourpuss.”

“I bet he didn’t say sourpuss. He’s a firefighter. I’m sure he has a more colorful term for me, like hell-bitch.”

Adam is a saint, thought Mason. St. Adam. He silently cursed the saint for having left already. Adam and Ivy had stuck around until their mom was discharged, then they both had to leave; Adam to his training and Ivy back to Santa Barbara to prepare for her move to Europe.

“I printed out the résumés of the candidates we’re meeting with,” he said. “You want to go over them now, or—”

“I think I’d like to go out into the garden now.”

He gritted his teeth, looking away so she wouldn’t see his annoyance.

“You’re annoyed,” she said. “You can’t wait to leave. You’ve got one foot out the door.”
Damn. Busted. He schooled his face into a pleasant expression. “Don’t be silly. I’m glad I’m here to spend some time with you.”

“Right.” She nudged a lever on her chair and rolled toward the French doors. “Let’s go inspect the property you bought. You’ve never even seen it in the summer.”

He stood aside, impressed by how nimbly she used her chair to operate the switch plate, which opened the doors. When he stepped out on the deck, the view and the cool clarity of the air stole his breath. “Wow,” he said.

“You did well,” she told him. “I do appreciate everything you’ve done for me—moving me to Avalon, getting this house adapted for my needs, hiring a staff. If I’m going to be a cripple the rest of my life, I might as well do it in style.”

“I thought we weren’t going to say cripple.”

“Not when I’m being polite. I don’t feel terribly polite these days.”

“Let me savor the view for a few minutes, okay?” The last time he’d seen the property, it had been blanketed in snow. The estate had been known as the Webster House, having been built in the 1920s by descendants of Daniel Webster himself. For Mason, the decision to acquire and restore the house had not been based on historical significance, prestige or even investment value. He wanted his mother to have a nice place to live, near Adam—aka her favorite—that could be quickly adapted for her special needs.

During that process, he had come to appreciate the benefit of having a big extended family living in a small town. His cousin Olivia was married to the contractor who had restored the fanciful timber-and-stone mansion to its original gloss as a grand summer residence from days gone by. His cousin Ross was married to a nurse who specialized in adaptive living. Another cousin, Greg, was a landscape architect. Olivia was a talented designer in her own right, so in a matter of months, the place was ready for his mother and Adam, and their staff of live-in help.

About Susan Wiggs

Susan Wiggs is the author of many beloved bestsellers, including the popular Lakeshore Chronicles series. She has won many awards for her work, including a RITA® Award from the Romance Writers of America. 


Connect with the Author

Website | Facebook | Twitter . .

Excerpt tour for STARLIGHT ON WILLOW LAKE:

Monday, August 3rd: From the TBR Pile
Tuesday, August 4th: The Sassy Bookster 
Wednesday, August 5th: Book Reviews & More by Kathy 
Thursday, August 6th: Sara’s Organized Chaos 
Friday, August 7th: Raven Haired Girl 
Monday, August 10th: Mom in Love with Fiction 
Tuesday, August 11th: The Romance Dish
Wednesday, August 12th: Written Love Reviews 
Thursday, August 13th: Books and Spoons 
Friday, August 14th: A Chick Who Reads 
Monday, August 17th: Urban Girl Reader 
Tuesday, August 18th: Snowdrop Dreams of Books 
Wednesday, August 19th: FictionZeal 
Thursday, August 20th: Palmer’s Page Turners
Friday, August 21st: The Bookish and The Romantic



Thanks to TLC for including me 

on the excerpt tour.
Please visit other stops on the Excerpt tour as listed above.

Thursday, July 9, 2015

Thrill me by Susan Mallery Excerpt Tour

Follow along the excerpt tour beginning in July, with long excerpts in consecutive order at each tour stop! 
A review tour will take place in August!


Series: Fool’s Gold Mass Market 
Paperback: 368 pages
Publisher: HQN Books (July 28, 2015)

Meet the Mitchell brothers of Fool’s Gold, California—five gorgeous men who’ve left a trail of broken hearts in their wake… 

Maya Farlow learned the hard way to depend only on herself, so when she fell too deeply for the bad-boy charms of Del Mitchell, she did the only thing she could—she ran. Stunned, Del left Fool’s Gold to make his name and fortune in extreme sports.

Now ten years later, Maya’s been hired to promote her hometown’s new slogan, The Destination for Romance. The celebrity spokesman is none other than Del, the man she dumped but never forgot. Awkward!


Although Del’s not the type to hold a grudge, he’s determined to avoid falling a second time for the woman who broke his heart. He’s a daredevil, not an idiot. Trouble is, in all his adventures, he never found a rush as exhilarating as Maya’s kiss. Maybe risking his heart will prove to be the biggest thrill of all…


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Excerpt

While the Mitchells couldn’t claim to be one of the founding families of Fool’s Gold, they’d only missed that distinction by a single generation. They’d been around longer than most and had the interesting family history to prove it.

Maya had first met Elaine Mitchell over ten years before when she’d applied for a part-time job with Mitchell Fool’s Gold Tours. The friendly, outgoing woman had promised fair pay and flexible shifts. As Maya had been saving every penny for college, she’d been thrilled with the offer. There wasn’t going to be any help from her family, so it was up to her to get scholarships, grants and loans, then supplement the rest with whatever she could save.

Two unexpected things had happened that fateful summer. Maya had met and fallen in love with Del—Elaine’s oldest son. But she’d also made a friend in the Mitchell matriarch. Elaine was married to famous glass artist Ceallach Mitchell and was the mother of five boys. She’d been born and raised in Fool’s Gold. Her life was the best kind of chaos—one defined by a growing, happy family.

Maya had been the only child of an exotic dancer who had married for money and suffered the consequences. While Maya had felt badly for her mother, she had loved moving to Fool’s Gold and being a relatively normal teen for the first time ever.

On the surface the two women had little in common, Maya thought as she hurried out of City Hall and headed for her car. They were worlds and lifetimes apart. Yet they’d always seemed to have something to talk about and, despite how Maya’s relationship with Del had ended, she and Elaine had stayed in touch.

Now she got in her car and drove the six miles out of town toward the Mitchell family house. It stood on acres of land, separate from the town. Ceallach needed quiet for his creativity and space for his huge glass installations.

So the family lived outside of town and the five brothers had grown up on the side of a mountain, running through the rugged terrain, doing whatever it was young boys did when outdoors and unsupervised.

Maya thought back to all the stories Del had told her, when they’d been together. And what Elaine shared in their frequent emails. She knew her friend missed having all five of her sons at home. Del and the twins had moved away and while Nick and Aidan were still in town, neither lived at the family house anymore.

Maya turned left and headed up the long driveway. When she finally reached the house, she was relieved to see Elaine’s SUV parked in front.

She’d barely made it up the front porch stairs when the door opened and Elaine smiled at her.

“You’re an unexpected surprise. What’s up?”

Del had his mother’s eyes. The rest of him—his size, his build—came from his father, but those brown eyes were pure Elaine.

“You didn’t know?” Maya asked, climbing the porch stairs. “Del’s back.”

Elaine’s openmouthed surprise confirmed what Maya had expected. Her friend hadn’t known. Which was so like a guy. Why tell your mom you were coming home?

“Since when?” Elaine asked, hugging her, then motioning her inside. “He could have called. I swear, he’s the worst of them.” Her mouth twisted as she led the way to the kitchen, her athletic shoes making no sound on the hardwood floors. “And the twins. I should disown all three of them.”

“Or post their embarrassing baby pictures on the internet,” Maya offered, stepping into the huge kitchen.

“That would be a better solution,” Elaine said as she crossed to the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of iced tea. “Then I’d hear from them for sure. So what happened? Where did you see him? What did he say?”

“Not much. I was too surprised to ask many questions.”

Maya took her usual seat at the big kitchen table. The overhead light fixture was made up of five pendant lights—each a rainbow of colors that swirled and seemed to move, even as they were perfectly still. She’d earned decent money as a senior producer back in Los Angeles, but there was no way she would have been able to afford those pendant lights. Or the stunning piece in the corner of the family room. Ceallach’s work was scattered throughout the house. One of the advantages of being married to a famous artist, she thought, accepting the glass of tea Elaine passed her.

Her friend already knew about Maya’s new job as the Fool’s Gold communications director. Now Maya told her about the meeting with Mayor Marsha and the plans for the various videos.

“We agreed there should be a host,” Maya continued. “Someone good on-screen.”

“I know where this is going.” Elaine gave her a sympathetic glance. “What about you?”

“You’re sweet to pretend I had a chance, but being in front of the camera…” Maya wrinkled her nose. “Anyway, I thought about some of the athletes who live in town. I mean why not? Or maybe Jonny Blaze.”

“Too young for me, but still sexy.”

Maya grinned. “I agree on the latter, if not the former.”

Elaine laughed. “And that’s why we’re friends. So not Mr. Blaze?”

“No. As if he’d been listening in the other room, in walked Del. I couldn’t believe it.”

Elaine pulled her cell phone from her jeans pocket and glanced at the screen. “Me, either. I wonder how long he’ll be in town. He’s not texting me about staying here at the house, which means he’s bunking somewhere else.” Her mouth twisted. “Apparently I did a bad job with my boys.”

“Don’t say that. You were a great mom.”

Maya would know. Her own mother had been on the dark side of awful, so she had a frame of reference. While her mother had been busy making sure Maya understood that she was the reason for her every disappointment, Elaine had been raising happy, loved children.

“Besides, isn’t the point of raising children to get them to where they’re contributing members of society?” Maya asked gently. “You did that times five.”

Before her friend could answer, the doggie door moved a little. Maya caught sight of a brown nose, followed by a happy blur of colors as Sophie, Elaine’s beagle, raced into the kitchen.

About Susan Mallery
 
097-croppedNew York Times bestselling author Susan Mallery has won the hearts of millions of readers around the world with books described as “immensely entertaining, intensely emotional” (RT Book Reviews), “hilarious” (Fort Worth Star-Telegram), and “heartwarming” (Publishers Weekly). One major retailer recently described her as “the queen of romantic fiction.” 

While she deeply appreciates the accolades of critics and booksellers, Mallery is even more honored by the enthusiasm of her readers and the word-of-mouth that catapults her toward the top of the bestsellers lists time and again. Mallery lives in not-so-sunny Seattle with her husband and a toy poodle who makes her laugh every day and who’s not even a little bit impressed by her growing fame. 

Connect with Susan
Website | Facebook | Twitter

Thrill Me EXCERPT TOUR:

Monday, July 6th: Why Girls Are Weird
Tuesday, July 7th: Book Mama Blog
Wednesday, July 8th: The Sassy Bookster
Thursday, July 9th: Mom in Love with Fiction
Monday, July 13th: girlichef
Tuesday, July 14th: From the TBR Pile
Wednesday, July 15th: Raven Haired Girl
Friday, July 17th: Always With a Book
Monday, July 20th: Mignon Mykel {Reviews}
Tuesday, July 21st: Bewitched Bookworms
Wednesday, July 22nd: Urban Girl Reader
Thursday, July 23rd: Satisfaction for Insatiable Readers
Friday, July 24th: Books & Spoons
Monday, July 27th: Book Reviews and More by Kathy