Thursday, April 19, 2018

Meet Evie Parker from Till the Storm Passes By

Allow me to introduce to you the heroine of Till the Storm Passes By, the first book in my Alaskan Waters trilogy.

Hello! My name is Evie Parker. I teach fourth grade in Jamestown on Conanicut Island in Rhode Island, where I grew up. Since I'm not married, I still live with my parents, Louise and Jack Parker. My father owns a hotel on the waterfront overlooking Narragansett Bay toward Newport. He's rarely home except to sleep.

Beavertail State Park, RI Courtesy Google.com
My favorite place to get away to ponder my life is Beavertail Lighthouse (for more about Beavertail, click here) just a few miles from our house. The ocean surrounds it on three sides. Sitting on the rocks and watching the waves break soothes my mind and soul. I'd love to take you there.

Waves Breaking at Beavertail Courtesy Google.com
By way of introduction, allow me to show you the prologue to the book I'm writing to my darling baby girl, Kristina Louise.

"As I hold you in my arms and breathe in your sweetness, I feel great joy and pride. Whenever I tuck you into your crib, I pray we will enjoy a long and wonderful life together. No mother or daughter is ever prepared for anything else, but because of what has happened to me, I know the worst can happen.

"That's why I am writing this story. I want you to know me and the story of my life even if I were to be suddenly taken from you, as my mother was. How I have wished she had done the same for me! It would have spared me much anguish.

"My growing up years seemed mundane and uneventful except for a recurring nightmare that traumatized my childhood, so I will begin my tale with the first sign of the gathering storm that would alter my life forever."

"Mommy! Mommy! Wake up!" a little girl screams. But the woman on the beach lies cold and wet and still.

I awake with a start. A profound sense of loss sucks the breath from my lungs. My heart throbs and my head pounds. My throat is parched, yet I shiver in my sweat-damp nightgown. I press my hands to my cheeks and find them wet with tears.

"Why now?" I moan. I haven't had this nightmare in years. I thought I'd outgrown it along with my fear of the dark and the bogeyman.

What does my dream mean? Who is the woman I call "Mommy"? She doesn't look at all like my mother. Maybe I had the dream again because I'm worried about her. She's not been well, but she refuses to see the doctor.

Trying not to disturb her, I slip out of the house and walk to Carr Elementary School where I teach fourth grade. My best friend, Jean, who also teaches at my school, tries to help me figure out what the nightmare means, but that evening at choir practice where I play the piano for church, my boyfriend, Carl, reminds me of my father when he just laughs it off.

My father is distant, harsh, and uncaring. I don't want to marry a man like him. Everyone says Carl is a dream catch--ambitious, good-looking, and popular. For the first time, I begin to wonder if I really want to marry Carl.

An early spring blizzard and a deathbed confession settle the matter. Although it scares me to death to travel so far in 1953, I decide to fly all the way to Juneau in the Territory of Alaska to unravel a past shrouded in mystery.

A plane Evie flew on in 1953 Courtesy Google.com
I invite you to come along with me as I search for answers, but let me warn you, we will face many storms along the way. I often wonder if I will be ever able to forgive and find true love.

Read Evie's story in Till the Storm Passes By,  Book One in my Alaskan Waters Trilogy, available in paperback and e-book, all readers--Kindle, Nook, iTunes, etc. For more information about my books, see my website: www.annaleeconti.com.



Thursday, April 12, 2018

Meet Violet Channing from Beside Still Waters

Allow me to introduce you to Violet Channing, heroine of my latest book, Beside Still Waters.

Hello! My name is Violet Channing. Orphaned at a young age, I find myself tossed about by life’s turbulent waters when my Aunt Mabel who raised me dies.

I always wanted to be a teacher, but my education was cut short by the untimely death of my Uncle Chester. He made poor business decisions, and as a result, my aunt lost their large Victorian house in a wealthy neighborhood to the creditors at his death.

In order to support us, I had to quit normal school at the age of 18 and take the only job I could find for an unskilled woman in 1915 Boston as a seamstress in a ramshackle wooden garment factory. With its accumulated dust and lint, it was a tinderbox. Fire is my greatest fear.

My wages only afforded Aunt Mabel and me a cold-water flat in a dirty tenement with stark chimneys that belched soot-ladened air. When Aunt Mabel got sick, we couldn’t afford a doctor.

“It’s just a cold,” she said. But when she began to cough up blood, I quit taking a lunch to work so we could pay his fee.

“Consumption,” he told Aunt Mabel. “Keep warm and rest.” Then, he called me aside. “There’s nothing I can do for her. Her lungs are too far gone. She probably only has a few weeks.”

Heartsick, I quit my job to take care of her.


Now, she’s gone, and I have to figure out what to do with my future. I can’t bear to go back to that firetrap of a factory.

At the corner grocery, I buy a few necessities and a copy of the Boston Globe with the last of my money. In the corner of the Classifieds, an ad catches my eye: “WANTED: a young lady to be a companion and tutor to a sick child.”

I read the fine print. No teaching credentials required. Room and board provided. Can this be the answer? Before I grow fainthearted, I pen an application and mail if off to the address.

A week later, I receive a cream-colored envelope addressed to me in a feminine hand. Excitement pulses through me as I withdraw the note, which requests that I come for an interview on Saturday at one o’clock in the afternoon.

Laying aside my mourning clothes, I dress carefully in my best, though slightly out of fashion, outfit. At the address, a three-story brick house in Cambridge, a gracious lady invites me in. Over tea and snickerdoodles, a treat I hadn’t enjoyed since my uncle died, Mrs. Henderson describes the job.

Her granddaughter, Jenny, is recovering from rheumatic fever. Her mother has died, and the girl’s father needs a nanny and tutor for her as he has to be away frequently on his job as a railroad engineer.

The job offer sounds too good to be true until she tells me where they live—in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory!

Uncle Chester had regaled Aunt Mabel and me with his reading of Robert Service’s “The Cremation of Sam McGee.” All I know about the Yukon is that it is wild and frigid. Do I have the courage to go there?

Will I be jumping from a city firetrap 
into frozen wilderness icebox?

I think of my shabby apartment. I have nothing to keep me here, but will I be jumping from a city firetrap into frozen wilderness icebox? I decide to take the leap.

Vanderbilt Reef in Lynn Canal in Southeast Alaska
Sailing up the Inside Passage of Alaska on my way to Whitehorse, I fall in love with a dashing Yukon riverboat captain. But do we live happily ever after? That’s a secret revealed only in Beside Still Waters.

I hope you enjoyed meeting Violet. Visit my website at www.annaleeconti.com to learn more about Beside Still Waters, Book 3, as well as the other historical Christian novels in my Alaska Waters Trilogy.

Thursday, April 5, 2018

Never Give Up!

 Although there are several versions, I love this poem by an unknown author:

Two frogs fell into a can of cream--or so I've heard it told;
The sides of the can were shiny and steep. The cream was deep and cold.
"Oh, what's the use?" said No. 1, "'tis fate--no help's around--
"Goodbye, my friend! Goodbye, sad world!" And weeping still, he drowned.

But No. 2 of sterner stuff, dog-paddled in surprise,
The while he wiped his creamy face and dried his creamy eyes.
"I'll swim awhile, at least," he said--or so it has been said--
"It wouldn't really help the world if one more frog was dead."
An hour or two he kicked and swam--not once he stopped to mutter,
But kicked and swam, and swam and kicked, then hopped out, via butter.

How many times are we tempted to give up when troubles come our way. But let's follow the advice of the Apostle Paul in Galatians 6:9:


Many discouraged Christians have given up not knowing that success was just around the corner. So like Frog No. 2, even though the situation looks hopeless, don't give up.

I read recently of a person who was fired from her job. Instead of getting depressed, she used the job loss to spur her on to a complete change of vocation, and she became quite successful.

I too have had that experience. While my husband was in seminary, I lost a job which we needed to cover our living expenses. But the Lord provided another employment opportunity that led me into writing, which has become my life-long vocation.

My Grandma Personeus, pioneer missionary to Alaska for 65 years, taught me to spell "disappointments" as "His appointments." Experience has proven her right.

Are you facing a disappointment? Are you discouraged? Don't give up. Continue to do what is right and good. God has promised you "will reap a harvest of blessing at the appropriate time."


I experienced many disappointments along the way to getting my first book, Frontiers of Faith, published. With perseverance, I finally succeeded. Visit my website to see more about my books.