Father Figure is a .99 Kindle download from 5/23 thru 5/27 β help yourselves!
Thank you so much for your support in sharing, downloading, reading, and reviewing. I appreciate it! You should pick it up before the virtual book club coming up soon⦠check it out
This was my introduction into James J. Cudney’s work, and can I just say, wow! Here’s a link to my review- https://jacqbiggar.com/2019/07/11/father-figure-by-jamescudney4-suspense-bookreview/
Father Figure’s plotline is nothing short of brilliant, with a surprise ending you wonβt guess is coming!
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Overview of Father Figure
Between the fast-paced New York City, a rural Mississippi town and a charming Pennsylvania college campus filled with secrets, two young girls learn the consequences of growing up too quickly.
Amalia Graeme, abused by her mother for most of her life, longs to escape her desolate hometown and fall in love. Contemplating her loss of innocence and conflicting feelings between her boyfriend and the dangerous attraction sheβs developed for an older man, Amalia faces life-altering tragedies.
Brianna Porter, a sassy, angst-ridden teenager raised in New York City, yearns to find her lifeβs true purpose, conquer her fear of abandonment, and interpret an intimidating desire for her best friend, Shanelle. Desperate to find the father whom her mother refuses to reveal, Brianna accidentally finds out a shocking truth about her missing parent.
Set in alternating chapters two decades apart, the parallels between their lives and the unavoidable collision that is bound to happen is revealed. FATHER FIGURE is an emotional story filled with mystery, romance, and suspense.
Father Figure was officially launched for sale on Amazon on April 2, 2018 as both an e-book and a physical book. Reviews have been extremely positive between Goodreads and Amazon since the 5-day free download and 5-day book blitz.
- Book Blitz: For 5 days, (4/30 thru 5/4) we posted promotions, hints, and feedback
- Blog Tour: For 5 days (6/4 thru 6/8) we posted reviews, interviews and a giveaway
Reviews
β β β β β β βThe book deals with abuse, identity, acceptance, overcoming obstacles, crime, sexuality, family secrets, and knowing who you are. Another great story to read, especially if you love emotive, suspenseful family dramas.β
β β β β β β βGripping and emotionalβ¦ Mr. Cudney has written a book full of twists and turns that kept my eyes glued to its pages.β
β β β β β β βAmalia and Brianna are fully developed characters with all the fears, naivety, anxiety and angst of teen, young adults; full of questions and doubtsβ¦ Canβt wait for James Cudneyβs next work.β
***
Book Excerpt
Chapter One β Amalia, August 1984
βI didnβt raise no harlot, Amalia. When youβre done with softball practice today, you will go directly to the hardware store and help your father manage that cash register.β The stagnant air, sealed tightly like an old glass jar of long-forgotten jelly, refused to dissipate in the Graeme family homeβeven it was afraid of Janetβs wrath.
βBut Momma, Iβll be home to cook dinner before sunset.β The strains in Amaliaβs voice weakened with each of her motherβs refusals to let her live the normal life of a teenager.
βDidnβt you hear me the first time, child? Only little whores go to the lake.β Janetβs stern voice emptied through thin lips stained from devouring a blueberry cobbler before theyβd started cooking breakfast. βAre you a little whore, Amalia?β
Retribution for daring to break any of her motherβs rules was always swift and fierce. Amalia had obeyed every word since her mother locked her in the storm cellar for ten hours when she was a toddler βpunishment for spilling juice on an antique lace tablecloth. βNo, Iβm sorry. I thought you might let me celebrate just this onceβ¦β
The plea had barely escaped Amaliaβs hesitant lips before the clammy grip of Janetβs bony hands shoved her down the hallway. βStop your sass talk, girl. We can take another trip downstairs if you donβt care to mind me.β
Amaliaβs left arm grazed the wall when stumbling from the kitchen into the dark mudroom. Dingy white paint chips rained to the floor and clung to her favorite new red blouse while passing through the dilapidated archway. She cradled her elbow, flicked off the last few flakes of her motherβs venom, and firmly held her ground. βItβs not fair. You let Greg hang out with his friends all the time.β
βLeave your brother out of this conversation. Your responsibility belongs first to this family and then to the hardware store. Who said anything about friends? Now get yourself off to practice.β Janetβs one good eye stubbornly left behind after diabetes stole the vision in her other glared while Amalia reluctantly marched toward the back door. βYouβre a spiteful little child.β
βIβm taking out the trash, Momma.β Her voice carried the defeat of a soul unable to find the words or summon the strength to defend herself anymore. As she leaned over, the scoop neck on Amaliaβs blouse revealed the slightest hint of cleavage between her ample breasts.
βStop right now. What are you wearing?β Janetβs tone lingered thick over such insubordination. A special brand of disdain had been developed by watching her daddy preach to his Southern Baptist congregation for nearly forty years before he anxiously married her off to Amaliaβs father.
βItβs just a pretty shirt I found at a yard sale. Iβm not showing too much skin.β Amalia dropped the trash bag on the mudroomβs gray linoleum and recalled the similar, previous lectures. She refused to turn around to face the woman. βIβm not a child anymore, Momma.β
Janet stampeded through the kitchen and kicked the garbage into the far corner. Though the vinyl flooring had peeled away from the walls as the house settled, it was still not one of the more noticeable improvements desperately needed in their home. βItβs lesson time, girl.β
Amalia yelped and dashed to safety after a cast iron frying pan full of hot grease collided with bare skin on the back of her arm. βNo, Momma, pleaseβ¦β She dropped to her knees, scooted across the mudroom floor, and cowered behind the pantry door to protect herself from any further blows. An acrid burnt plastic odor from a fiery singe on the linoleum beneath her wafted through the air as she shuddered in pain. The nerves in her forearm and elbow convulsed when the wound began to blister from the impact of her motherβs lesson.
βSomeday youβll learn how to behave yourself.β Janet grudgingly placed the frying pan on the washing machine and lifted Amalia by the curls of her hair. She tightly squeezed her daughterβs breasts while trying to raise the blouse over Amaliaβs head. βI donβt know where you got these girls from. Youβre hoping to entice all the boys to put their dirty little hands where they donβt belong.β
Amalia pushed away her motherβs sticky fingers willing to risk more punishment if she kept them off her trembling body. The putrid smell of Janetβs three-day-old sweat and decaying teeth littered the air between their lips. βLeave it. Iβve got a bra on underneath to keep them strapped down. I know the rules.β
Amaliaβs breasts had begun to develop when she turned eleven years old. By thirteen, a custom-size bra was bought to contain them. Dresses were never allowed given the attention theyβd drawn to her bodyβs hourglass shape. Though Janetβs words were enough of a rebuke, reduction surgery was still threatened should Amaliaβs breasts grow any larger.
βI pray every night for them to stop getting bigger and for God to teach you some morals. Itβs like youβre rubbing my great Aunt Tillyβs rose gardenβs Miracle Grow on those dirty pillows. Tramps like you get themselves into some mighty trouble when they donβt protect their bodies.β Janet stomped back to the kitchen with the now-emptied frying pan and quickly snapped her fingers. βCover yourself up or forget about going away to college this summer.β
βYes, Momma.β Amalia heaved herself from the floor with the help of the door handle and collected the remains of her veiled dignity.
βAnd put out the trash already. It smells like a sewer in here,β snickered Janet.
Fighting back the tears brimming on the surface of her weary eyes, Amalia sighed with relief upon noticing the frying oil hadnβt ruined her blouse. In a rush to tend to her wounds while running through the living room and up the flight of stairs, Amalia crashed into her father, Peter. At sixty, heβd begun to settle into a grandfatherly presence contented by a quiet and ordinary life. Heβd aged quickly in the Graeme household. Everyone did.
βDaddy, Iβm so sorry. I wasβ¦β Amalia hugged her father, rested her head against his narrow chest, and listened to his enfeebled lungs wheeze with exertion.
Peter fell toward the wall and knocked over the family portrait theyβd photographed during Gregβs high school graduation. βOh, my pet, whatβs wrong?β He pulled Amalia closer with one hand and adjusted the brass picture frame with the other. A thin layer of ashen skin on his face failed to cover years of misery being married to Janet. Heβd long-accepted divorce would never be permitted by the daughter of a Baptist preacher and that his life would be fraught with reproach. βDid you have another squabble with your mother?β
Amalia sniffled and concealed her burns, desperate to splash cold water on the pain. βShe hates me, Daddy. Momma never loved me the way she loves Greg.β
βThatβs not true, honey. Sheβs tougher because youβre leaving later this month.β Peter brushed away a few loose curls from Amaliaβs face and smiled with a fatherly love that hadnβt receded over the years. βWhat happened this time?β
A cherubic expression brightened her pale face with the hope he would understand but disappeared once she remembered begging had never helped before. βI asked if I could go to the lake today with the rest of the softball team for Brantβs town fair, but Momma says I have to work at the store like I do every other day.β
The population of their hometown, Brant, Mississippi, founded in 1784, hovered around five hundred inhabitants, the majority born and raised in the surrounding isolation. The Graeme family, still considered outsiders, had arrived in the mid-1800s settling about a half mile from Lake Newtonβthe livelihood once used to transport goods to the neighboring settlements. Over the years, as the county paved new roads to share crops more efficiently among all the nearby villages, the lake became a gathering place for the local families and visitors to enjoy each summer. Store owners had organized a bicentennial celebration for the upcoming weekend where all the citizens would barbecue ribs, hold square dancing lessons, and play various outdoor games. Amalia looked forward to it every year believing she always had the chance to find a new friend who might make the rough days pass by a little easier.
βYour momma knows best, honey. We need to be available for our customers.β Every penny was important to Janet Graeme, especially with two kids attending collegeβthey could never close the store early. Janet often reminded them how pitching in around the house or store was impossible on account of her many illnesses. Peter nudged Amalia away and kissed her cheek. βYou can leave work early to meet your teammates at tomorrowβs picnic. Will that make you happy?β
βIt helps, but Iβll be the only one not going tonight.β Amalia buried her flushed cheeks into the crook of his left arm. He always smelled of Old Spice. Sheβd bought him the same cologne for Fatherβs Day every year since shopping on her own.
If Peter noticed the stinging red color or the slight favor of her left arm, he either ignored it or thought sheβd injured herself in a recent softball game. He adhered to an insulated belief that his wifeβs normal way of parenting didnβt include hurting or abusing their daughter. It wasnβt the first time heβd misjudged a situation. Peter once took Amalia to a movie theatre as an early birthday present telling Janet theyβd stayed behind at the store to count inventory and order stock, but she found a few popcorn kernels on the floor of the family Dodge the next morning while driving to church. Janet waited until Amalia arrived home from school later that week to teach her daughter a lesson about lying. Though Amalia had only been trying to catch a schoolboyβs attention by lightening the color of her hair with lemon juice, it was a vengeful wrath sheβd unexpectedly invited as Janet took a pair of shearing scissors to her daughterβs golden mane. The emotional scars from an abusive homelife were profound, but Amalia never regretted sneaking off to watch the movie. She was proud of being a daddyβs girl. He was her hero, the father sheβd always treasure, the man who made it easier being the daughter of the wicked Janet Graeme.
Peter patted Amaliaβs back offering any chance to ease her disillusion. βI know, but tomorrow when you go to the lake, everything will be back on track. Bring some clothes to change into so that you donβt have to come back home in between. Do you understand what Iβm saying?β
βI canβt wait. I love you, Daddy.β She hugged him again and raced up the stairs to change her shirt before her mother had another outburst. Amalia applied cream to her wounds, then chose a long-sleeve button-down sweater she fastened two inches above the dip in her neck. After checking the mirror and wishing a bit of foundation could hide the uneven colors, she splashed water on her face to erase the evidence of her pain. One of Janetβs more ridiculous judgments echoed among Amaliaβs numbed thoughts. βOnly the vile women in this town wear makeup!β
Amalia flew back down the stairs and searched for the trash bag sheβd left behind, realizing it would mean another lashing if her mother had stumbled upon it first. As she rushed into the living room, her father handed her a banana and elbowed her out the front door. βI already put it in the outside bin. Get to softball practice, my pet.β His voice barely audible, his expression as loud as a parade.
Amalia smiled and released an uncontrollable giggle as her countenance relaxed for the first time that morning. Although the tense nerves in her neck retreated into partial hiding, her body remained hypervigilant and always waited for the next blistery strike from her mother. She left the house flickering with excitement for the townβs festivities over the weekend but frightened at what her teammates would say about her missing the lake party. No one ever declined their much sought-after invitations without hazardous repercussions.
Although sheβd graduated high school two months earlier, Amalia continued playing in the countyβs summer tournaments to keep her pitching skills primed for college games. Risking a loss of the unexpectedly received scholarshipβas it was the only reason she could afford to go away to schoolβwas not an option. After practice, where she conveniently forgot to tell her teammates about missing the upcoming lake party, Amalia worked side-by-side with her father for a few hours and avoided any further trouble with her mother at home. Once Amalia climbed into bed that evening exhausted from an emotionally and physically grueling afternoon, she drifted asleep clutching her pillow and wished things would somehow improve the next day.
****
The following morning, Janet took the familyβs only car to the First Baptistβs services leaving Amalia and Peter to trudge the two-mile distance to the center of town. Graeme Hardware Store was part of the townβs original train depot when first built in the mid-nineteenth century. Shortly before World War I, the train line was re-routed to a larger city a few miles away. This prompted Brantβs town council to vote in favor of converting the train depot into a lunch cafΓ© and expanding the footprints of local shops hoping it would draw more income from surrounding villages. The loss of the train station left Graeme Hardware Store with far fewer customers managing barely enough to keep afloat during a good year.
Peter unlocked the store and began his morning routine to review the previous dayβs sales and prepare the inventory. While he dragged a rolling stand filled with buckets of nails and screws to the exterior porch of the store, Amalia brewed a fresh pot of strong coffee. She retrieved a starter till from the safe under the desk and counted a hundred dollars in small bills and coins, then placed it in the cash register atop the laminate countertop. She grabbed a few dollars to buy breakfast from the local cafΓ© and strolled to the front of the store. The sharp clank of the bell loosely hung by a nylon cord on the door bounced off all the metal tools and reverberated throughout the building. Amalia held the outer screen door to prevent it from slamming shut and made a mental note to convince her father to repair the hinge that afternoon. Customers didnβt appreciate buying tools from a hardware store with a broken front door.
βIβll be right back, Daddy.β Amalia bounded down three short steps and traveled the buildingβs main wooden pathway. Frustrated by the inability to meet the girls from the softball team the prior night, Amalia recoiled at how much of an encumbrance Brant had become to her over the years. She often daydreamed of leaving it all behind but remembered no one had ever escaped. She scoffed at her emotions, slid her fingers across the pathwayβs splintered handrails, and ignored the desire to run deep into the woods.
Father Figure Purchase Links
Kindle: http://mybook.to/FatherFigure
Paperback: http://mybook.to/fatherfigurepb
Large Print: http://mybook.to/fatherfigurelp
About The Author
Background
James is my given name, but most folks call me Jay. I live in New York City, grew up on Long Island, and graduated from Moravian College, an historic but small liberal arts school in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, with a degree in English literature and minors in Education, Business and Spanish. After college, I accepted a technical writing position for a telecommunications company during Y2K and spent the last ~20 years building a career in technology & business operations in the retail, sports, media and entertainment industries. Throughout those years, I wrote some short stories, poems and various beginnings to the βGreat American Novel,β but I was so focused on my career in technology and business that writing became a hobby. In 2016, I refocused some of my energies toward reinvigorating a second career in reading, writing and publishing.
Author
Writing has been a part of my life as much as my heart, my mind and my body. At some points, it was just a few poems or short stories; at others, it was full length novels and stories. My current focus is family drama fiction, cozy mystery novels and suspense thrillers. I think of characters and plots that I feel must be unwound. I think of situations people find themselves in and feel compelled to tell the story. Itβs usually a convoluted plot with many surprise twists and turns. I feel it necessary to take that ride all over the course. My character is easily pictured in my head. I know what he is going to encounter or what she will feel. But I need to use the right words to make it clear.
Reader & Reviewer
Reading has also never left my side. Whether it was childrenβs books, young adult novels, college textbooks, biographies or my ultimate love, fiction, itβs ever present in my day. I read 2 books per week and Iβm on a quest to update every book Iβve ever read on Goodreads, write up a review and post it on all my sites and platforms.
Blogger & Thinker
I have combined my passions into a single platform where I share reviews, write a blog and publish tons of content: TRUTH. I started my 365 Daily Challenge, where I post about a word that has some meaning to me and converse with everyone about life. There is humor, tears, love, friendship, advice and bloopers. Lots of bloopers where I poke fun at myself all the time. Even my dogs have had weekly segments called βRyderβs Rantsβ or βBaxterβs Barksβ where they complain about me. All these things make up who I am; none of them are very fancy or magnanimous, but they are real. And thatβs why they are me.
Genealogist & Researcher
I love history and research, finding myself often reaching back into the past to understand why someone made the choice he or she did and what were the subsequent consequences. I enjoy studying the activities and culture from hundreds of years ago to trace the roots and find the puzzle of my own history. I wish I could watch my ancestors from a secret place to learn how they interacted with others; and maybe Iβll comprehend why I do things the way I do.
Websites & Blog
Website: https://jamesjcudney.com/
Blog: https://thisismytruthnow.com
Amazon: http://bit.ly/JJCIVBooks
Next Chapter Pub: https://www.nextchapter.pub/authors/james-j-cudney
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/james-j-cudney
Social Media
Twitter: https://twitter.com/jamescudney4
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/JamesJCudneyIVAuthor/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/BraxtonCampusMysteries/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ThisIsMyTruthNow/
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/jamescudney4/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jamescudney4/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/jamescudney4
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/jamescudney4
Genres, Formats & Languages
I write in the family drama and mystery genres. My first two books are Watching Glass Shatter (2017) and Father Figure (2018). Both are contemporary fiction and focus on the dynamics between parents and children and between siblings. Iβm currently writing the sequel to Watching Glass Shatter. I also have a light mystery series called the Braxton Campus Mysteries with six books available.
All my books come in multiple formats (Kindle, physical print, large print paperback, and audiobook) and some are also translated into foreign languages such as Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, and German.
Goodreads Book Links
Watching Glass Shatter (October 2017)
Hi Jacquie,
WOW! Thank you so much for an amazing intro… so thrilled you enjoyed the book. Have a wonderful week… sending big successes your way and tons of hugs!
j
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Thanks, Jay. Best of luck with your sale!
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The blurb sounds good and the excerpt even better. Sounds like a good one, James.
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It reads like a family saga, Jacqui. I think you’d like it π
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Thanks Jacqui!
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Father Figure! The title suggests so much of positivity but this is dark fiction with a lot of surprises.
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Agreed, Balroop. It wasn’t what I expected, but a good read, nonetheless!
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I adored that one Jacquie!
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Jay is a talented writer!
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This was the first book from Jay that I read, and I loved it. Now I’m halfway done with reading Watching Glass Shatter, which is equally suspenseful.
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Ooh, I need to start that one soon!
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Thank you Pete, Balroop, and Sophie! I appreciate you all. π
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Awesome review and perfect inspirational timing! Cheers to your good week!πΊππΊβοΈβοΈ
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Thank you, AOC! Hope you’re having a safe and wonderful week, as well π
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β€οΈπΊβ€οΈπΊβοΈβοΈ
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Thank you!
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You are most welcome James! πππ
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