In Garrison Greek by Henry P. Gravelle, Doc Jacobi comes in contact with swindlers who have stolen a prize Stallion.

If you like westerns and historical set in the wild wild west, you’re sure to love Garrison Creek.

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EXCERPT: Garrison Creek

“I’ve been feeling strange, Doc. Sometimes I wanna dance, sometimes I wanna puke,” Carrie Monroe said, her brown eyes nervously wide.

She sat straight back, chin out and spoke clearly, yet a tinge of the unknown rattled her tone. Her fingers tapped against one another as though contemplating bad news of her ailment.

“Tired a lot with headaches?” I asked.

She nodded yes.

“Soreness in your breast?” I wondered.

Embarrassingly, she nodded yes again.

“How long you felt this way?” I asked, going to the washbasin atop the side table.

“I dunno,” she lowered her head, “little while now.”

“You’re what, eighteen, nineteen?” I said.

“Sixteen,” she raised her head quickly with an expression of horror at my error. She stood, covered her short auburn hair with a ragged felt hat, and went to the door of my office.

As I rinsed my hands, I studied her general appearance remembering her as a tot, delivering her brother, Bob, a few years earlier. Generally, I went by appearances rather than time when it came to age, so I had to look her over again. The tan shirt and dark trousers of a ranch hand covered her petite form ‘nough that I could’ve taken her for Bob.

“Sorry,” I grinned.

“Not your fault, doc,” she sighed, “Poppa got us working day and night, kinda takes a toll on appearances.”

“That it does, but you’re gonna have ‘ta speak with your poppa. I can’t have you doing man’s work for long.”

She stood defiantly, “I can do anything a man ca—”

“You’re pregnant,” I interrupted, with a smile.

Carrie made her way back to the chair and sat, the big browns ogling the floor, “You sure…?”

“I may be just an old war surgeon,” I said drying my hands on a towel, “but I still know plenty ’bout human biology.”

“How?” she whispered.

“You’re a young’n but I reckon you already know’d how. Got a last name for the child?”

Carrie’s eyes welled. A tear fell across her cheeks. “Not sure, he’s been scared away by—”

“Your poppa,” I filled in her sentence.

She nodded.

ALSO BY HENRY P. GRAVELLE

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BLURB

The Bamboo Heart is an emotional adventure of young love won and lost during an uncertain era in world history. Mary Bachelder has conducted a long and arduous search for her grandparent’s identities until she befriends Steven McGee, an elderly decorated fighter pilot suffering from post-traumatic depression. McGee reveals his recollections of three young lives separated through the Second World War and reunited inside a Japanese prisoner of war camp in the Philippines. The releasing of his deepest memories brings serenity from the horrors he suffered and closure to Mary’s quest.

REVIEWS:

The Bamboo Heart

Henry P. Gravelle

978-1-62420-156-1

Reviewd by David Cairns (A Muddy Red River)

The Bamboo Heart by Henry P. Graveville. Published by Rogue Phoenix Press. 231 pages.

For me to call a book really good or great, it has to move me. When young Fibber McGee, having joined the navy soon after America’s entry into World War II, said goodbye to his very ill father, I choked up. The end of chapter 8 was stunningly dramatic. I actually stopped and took a deliberate breath before I read on. The Bamboo Heart is basically a memoir style narrative of incredible power and emotional depth. The story of McGee’s childhood in a small town during the Depression was captivating, especially the developing love triangle between Brow, Fibber and Flo.

McGee tells his story to Mary who is trying to fulfil her mother’s wishes to locate her own parents, Mary’s grandparents. It was clear where the story was heading and yet I yearned for the detail, I wanted to know every twist and turn on the way to the inevitable conclusion. The author’s descriptions of the characters was outstanding with precise descriptive passages snapshotting them. The graphic depiction of life in the Japanese prisoner of war camp was disturbing.

During the third person narrative, the scenes where Mary and McGee were interacting, featured some confusing changes in point of view, and I did not find it believable that he opened up to her so quickly. There were  a number of major coincidences later in the story as well. These things prevented me from giving The Bamboo Heart five stars, but it’s a terrific book. I loved it. Overall the language was emotive and the story compelling. Highly recommended.

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