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Other Fires: Novel by Lenore H. Gay: Kickoff, Excerpt, Giveaway

Other Fires: Novel by Lenore H. GayOther Fires: Novel by Lenore H. Gay


Publisher:  She Writes Press (October 20, 2020)
Category: Women’s Psychological Fiction, Medical Fiction
Tour Dates Oct 20-Nov 25, 2020
ISBN: 978-1631527739
Available in Print and ebook,256 pages


Description Other Fires: Novel by Lenore H. Gay


Joss and Phil’s already rocky marriage is fragmented when Phil is injured in a devastating fire and diagnosed with Capgras delusion―a misidentification syndrome in which a person becomes convinced that a loved one has been replaced by an identical imposter. Faced with a husband who no longer recognizes her, Joss struggles to find motivation to save their marriage, even as family secrets start to emerge that challenge everything she thought she knew.

With two young daughters, a looming book deadline, and an attractive but complicated distraction named Adam complicating her situation even further, Joss has to decide what she wants for her family―and what family even means.

Praise Other Fires: Novel by Lenore H. Gay


“Once again, Lenore Gay has woven a story that captivates the reader from page one. Other Fires is a brilliant study of tragedy on multiples levels. Beginning with a dysfunctional family struggling in the aftermath of a terrible fire, she expertly peels back the layers of human behavior and motivation that unravels the lives of the guilty and innocent. Peppered with surprising twists and turns, the story will stay with you long after you close the cover.”―PAM WEBBER, author of The Wiregrass and Moon Water

“Heartwarming and dramatic, the two major intertwining stories in Other Fires reach across decades from troubled childhood to mid-life adults and reaffirm what remains human and vulnerable in all of us. The portraits of the main characters arc from hopelessness to vulnerability and a sense of recovery. Gay holds the reader’s attention from the first page.”―DIANA Y. PAUL, author of Things Unsaid

“How do people figure out their minds? This novel explores what constitutes reality, and from whose perspective. Drawing on her varied experiences in life and background in rehabilitation and mental health counseling, Lenore Gay weaves together the perspectives of compelling characters who interact in ways that keep the pages of this novel turning.”―CHRIS REID, PhD, Rehabilitation Psychology

Excerpt Other Fires: Novel by Lenore H. Gay

Acrid smoke burned Terpe’s nose and stung her eyes, jerking her awake. On the first and second floors of the house, smoke alarms shrieked. Her backyard was filled with thick smoke.

            She ran downstairs and jumped on her parents’ bed. “Fire! Get up! Get up!”

            Mom sat up, dazed. “The baby! Get the baby!”

            Terpe ran across the hall to Geline’s room, scooped her out of the crib, and grabbed a blanket. When she turned, she remembered Dad was sleeping upstairs. Holding the baby tight to her chest, she took the stairs as fast as she could. The den door stood open. Mom stood by the pullout bed, yelling at Dad and shaking his arm. “For God’s sake, Phil, can’t you hear the alarms going off?”

            “Okay, okay,” he mumbled.

            Mom screamed, “Phil, the house is burning! It’s burning!”

His feet hit the floor.

            Her parents stumbled into the hall. “Goddamn! Goddamn!” he yelled.

            With the baby cradled in one arm and her free hand tight on the railing, Terpe hurried down, heading straight for the front door, Mom coming close behind.

            Dad stood at the top of the steps.

            Terpe turned to look at him.

            Cracking sounds as two boards hit him and slammed to the floor. He shouted, swayed, grabbed the banister, and crept down slowly. He let out one long scream that didn’t stop when he hit the bottom step.

            A terrible smell of burning hair.

            Mom threw her bathrobe over his head, grabbed a scatter rug, and dropped it next to his body. “I have to roll him!”

            With Geline on her hip, Terpe grabbed the hall phone and dialed 911. She repeated their address.

            Mom patted his head to put out the flames. “Terpe, run! No, help me! No, take the baby and run!”

            Terpe froze by the open door when a rush of fresh air hit her. She bolted down the front steps, threw down a blanket, put the screaming baby on it, and ran back inside. Mom wrestled with Dad’s body, pulling and tugging. But Dad stood at six foot two and probably weighed over two hundred pounds.

            “Take his head. I got his feet,” Terpe yelled. They dragged him onto the front porch. “I’ll get water. His hair stinks. It’s still burning.”

            “No! I put it out. Where’s the baby? She’s crying. Where’s the baby?”

            Terpe ran into the yard, scooped up her sister, and yelled, “She’s fine. I put her down to help you.” She rubbed Geline’s back, but the baby kept crying. Terpe walked in tight circles, trying to sing and calm her, but soon sirens drowned out her singing. Red lights flashed in the driveway; two fire trucks followed by an ambulance.

            Mom swung her arm and yelled, “Over here. Here!”

            While firemen pulled hoses, two people rushed out of the ambulance and ran toward her parents. They loaded Dad on a stretcher and rolled it into the back of the ambulance. Mom jumped in behind him and shouted, “Get help at the O’Tooles’!”

            Terpe nodded. Her mind jumped to their new roof. Maybe burning tree branches spread sparks onto the roof? She rushed to a man holding a hose. “What are those shingles in the back made of?”

            Over the roar of water, the man waved her back. Her head throbbed, and she moved the baby farther from the smoke. She sat by Geline and watched her house burn. Flames shot out of the back of the house. Finally, at eight, she’d had an upstairs bedroom. Now it was gone.

            A silhouette came across the yard. The familiar voice of their next-door neighbor, Mrs. O’Toole, rushing toward her.

            Neighbors gathered in the street, watching the monster gobble everything.

            One man shouted, “Who’s in the ambulance? Who’s hurt?”

            “Boards fell on Dad. He got burned, too. Mom went with him to the hospital.”

            Mrs. O’Toole asked, “What happened?”

            “I don’t know. It happened fast.”

            Mrs. O’Toole said, “Let me get my purse and go to an all-night and get milk for the baby. You and Geline will stay at our house tonight.” Without waiting for an answer, Mrs. O’Toole crossed the yard. A few minutes later she drove off.

No more fire, but with the smoky air and the back and top of her house burned away, it felt like something happening in another place, like on a TV show. Terpe tried to talk to a fireman, who said in a mean voice that some detectives would come soon, maybe tomorrow. He asked if she had a place to stay. She told him she’d go to the next-door neighbors.

She walked around the yard, clutching the baby, who wouldn’t stop squirming and crying. A neighbor from down the street asked if she wanted to stay at his house; he handed her a business card. She thanked him. After the man walked away, she cried. The man often jogged by her house, but they didn’t know each other. From now on she’d wave to him. No one had ever given her a business card; almost nine and only a third grader.

Car lights swooped across the yard. Terpe grabbed the blanket off the grass and followed Mrs. O’Toole into their house. Their house had a similar floor plan, but they had way different old-fashioned furniture. Mrs. O’Toole emptied three shopping bags on the kitchen counter. “Here, the baby essentials.”

Besides food, sleep, and air, Terpe wondered what else could be essential. 


About Lenore H. Gay


(c) Sasha Gay-Overstreet

Lenore Gay is a retired Licensed Professional Counselor with a master’s in sociology and rehabilitation counseling. She was an adjunct faculty at Virginia Commonwealth University’s Rehabilitation Counseling Department for thirty years. She has worked in several agencies and psychiatric hospitals, and for ten years worked at her private counseling practice before becoming Coordinator of VCU’s Rehabilitation Counseling Department internship program.

Her debut novel, Shelter of Leaves, was a finalist for the Foreword Book of the Year award and a finalist for an INDEFAB award. For three years, Lenore has served on the Steering Committee of the RVALitCrawl, which has been featured in RVAMag, Richmond Family Magazine, and Richmond Magazine. She is an active member of James River Writers. She lives in Richmond, Virginia.

Website:  https://lenoregay.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lenoregay.author
Twitter: https://twitter.com/lenore_gay

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