Haven Strong Guest Post and Giveaway!

Haven Strong by Jessica Rakus
Genre: Women’s fiction

Guest Post
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When I was nine, my family moved from California to Texas, and my mom decided we needed to become country music fans. She went out and bought two cassettes: Reba McEntire and Garth Brooks. We wore those cassette tapes out trying to assimilate with our new Texas neighbors.

So when I sat down to write Haven Strong, a book set in North Carolina (while I was living in West Virginia at the time), I decided I needed to get into country music. I’m not sure why I was convinced this was the music for this book and these characters, it just felt right. But without the magic of cassettes, how was I supposed to dive into the genre?!

I headed to Spotify.

I discovered new-to-me music and ended up really loving a few of these songs. Here’s a sample of my Haven Spotify playlist:

Tennessee Whiskey – Chris Stapleton
Marry Me – Thomas Rhett
Man Enough Now – Chris Bandi
Rumor – Lee Brice

And Sam Hunt. All the Sam Hunt.

So if you want to know what it sounded like in my headphones while I was writing, there’s a sample.

Josephine Grant lives a charmed life – a husband, three perfect children, strong bonds with family and friends in the small town where she’s lived her entire life. She’s the helper, the hostess, the one who always shows up. The person who can do it all.

Then the bus carrying her son’s basketball team crashes, and Jo’s husband and son are among the lives lost. Now she has a new identity. Widow. Single mother. Woman who lost everything. Grief begins to tear apart the place that’s always been her home. Infighting among friends. Gossip and rumors. Wounds that may never heal and bonds that just might.

Now Jo has to rebuild her life, but as the person who thinks of herself as the helper, asking others to help hold her together is impossible. Jo must learn to lean on others as she learns to stand on her own.

Josephine Grant lives a charmed life – a husband, three perfect children, strong bonds with

family and friends in the small town where she’s lived her entire life. She’s the helper, the

hostess, the one who always shows up. The person who can do it all.

Then the bus carrying her son’s basketball team crashes, and Jo’s husband and son are among

the lives lost. Now she has a new identity. Widow. Single mother. Woman who lost everything.

Grief begins to tear apart the place that’s always been her home. Infighting among friends.

Gossip and rumors. Wounds that may never heal and bonds that just might.

Now Jo has to rebuild her life, but as the person who thinks of herself as the helper, asking

others to help hold her together is impossible. Jo must learn to lean on others as she learns to

stand on her own.

Excerpt:

“Josephine Grant?”
The grocery bag in my hands threatened to fall. He was here for me.
I’d known it since I first saw him, and praying I was wrong had done nothing.
I swallowed hard before turning. “Yes?”
He didn’t speak again until he’d navigated the driveway and stood in front of me. I set down the bag of groceries; my shaking hands and knees had rendered holding things impossible.
“Could we step inside for a moment to speak?” he asked.
I glanced toward the door. “My daughters are inside.”
He nodded, seeming to understand my concern. Whatever he had to say, he didn’t want them to overhear any more than I did.
“Mrs. Grant, I’m so sorry. There was an accident earlier today involving a bus. Two of the people on the bus were identified as Stephen and Matthew Grant.”
No. No no no.
“We’re still trying to figure out exactly what happened, but emergency personnel at the scene did everything they could for everyone. I’m sorry to tell you they passed away at the scene.”
My legs gave out and I collapsed to the ground. Cold seeped through the knees of my jeans, but I didn’t care. My head dropped, my forehead settling into the gray slush that lined the driveway.
The officer crouched beside me as a sob burst from my throat.
“Is there someone who can come stay with you?”
Crumbled on the ground, I struggled to extract my cell phone from my back pocket, but I lacked the strength to pull myself up. Finally I got it. Through the blur of tears, I fumbled to find the button to make a phone call. Instead I landed on random apps, frustration adding to the crush in my chest.
The officer took my phone gently from my hand. “What name?”
“Esther Franklin,” I replied. “My mother.”
He stepped away, and without someone standing over me, I could no longer stop the tears. I sobbed into the cold gray concrete, praying my daughters wouldn’t come looking for me.

About the Author

Jessica Rakus is a debut novelist, after many, many years of writing practice. She currently lives in Louisiana, after living briefly in seven other states.

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