On literary wings, author Hillary Peak joins us today on her book tour to talk about her touching story, Wings of Hope. Please welcome Hillary!
MK: Might I begin by saying what a beautiful book cover you have! Now, if you had to sum it up Wings of Hope in 30 or less
words, what would you say?
HP: Getting to
know your parents as people is a turning point in anyone’s life, as is losing a
parent. In Wings of Hope, I explored
both.
MK: What inspired the
idea behind your book?
HP: My father truly lived an amazing life. When I was pregnant, I wanted to get his
stories down on paper to share with my baby.
MK: What has been your
greatest pleasure in writing this book?
HP: Because my father passed away seven years ago,
writing about his life gave me a profound sense of closeness to him. Also, I feel like I was able to get to know
him even better.
MK: What is your
favorite non-writing pastime?
HP: Yoga
MK: What message do you
hope readers take away from the book?
HP: That it is always worth it to try and do what you love. It isn’t worth spending your life doing
something that doesn’t inspire you—it is truly better to fail than never to
try.
MK: Is there a genre
you wish you could write, but haven’t made the plunge? Which one and what
appeals to you about it?
HP: I adore
fantasy novels, but I simply do not think like that. I don’t think I have the ability to create a
whole new world.
MK: Why did you choose
to be an Indie writer and would you choose to self-publish again?
HP: I got quite a few rejections saying that my
book was great, but they simply didn’t love it enough. I figured I’d put it out there and see what
happened. I don’t know if I’d do it
again. It is very hard. Promoting is a million times harder than writing.
MK: What is the best
piece of writing advice you’ve received?
HP: Keep writing.
Every minute you spend writing makes you better. Each of the novels I’ve written has been
better than the one before.
MK: What are you
reading now? Why did you choose that book?
HP: 50 Shades of Gray—I had to see
what all the hype was about.
MK: Is writing a
full-time career for you? If not, how else do you spend your work day?
HP: In my “real” life, I’m an education attorney
for the government.
MK: What three words would best describe your main character?
HP: Ambitious, lonely and fun.
MK: When did you write
your first book and how old were you?
HP: After a job I quit after two days, I wrote a
chick lit book called, “Cappuccino is the Answer for Job Dissatisfaction.” (I'm smiling right now)
MK: Laptop, desktop or
notebook and pen for writing?
HP: Laptop.
I don’t think I could manage with a notebook and pen.
MK: Is there a book
you’ve ever read more than five times? Which book and what drew you back to it?
HP: The only books I’ve ever read more than once
are the Harry Potter series. I could
read them over and over forever. I love
the world J.K. Rowling created. Her
characters are so real.
MK: What do you have in
store next for your readers?
HP: I’m trying my hand at a legal thriller. It has been a huge new challenge in my
writing.
The Book
The letter said he was dying, that’s all Jules Weinstein
knows when she leaves her life in San Francisco and moves to New York City to
be with her father. She goes for the remarkable opportunity to really know her
father. She never dreamed he had liberated a concentration camp, dealt cards to
Bugsy Siegel or saved the life of a Black Panther. Wings of Hope is a road trip
through the memories of a man making peace with his life. Little does she know
that by getting to know her father, she will find herself. While her father
struggles with whether his life was meaningful, Jules discovers that her
father’s last gift to her is the ability to reach for her dreams. Her journey
teacher her that “the goodbye” is sometimes the most heartbreakingly beautiful
part of life.
Visit Hillary Online!
Website & Blog: www.hillaryepeak.com
Book Available in print and eBook.
Wings of Hope Excerpts
Excerpt 1:
As we sat at the table sipping
coffee, I ventured my first question, “Dad, what were your parents like? You
haven’t told me much about them, except that your mother had more brains in her
pinkie than you’ve ever had.” I worried I wouldn’t have time to find out all I
wanted to know.
He looked up, surprised. “Haven’t I told you about them?”
I shook my head. “But I’d really like to know more about
them--especially what they were like.”
A smile spread across his face, “Really? I can’t believe
that. My mother would have loved you--eaten you with a spoon. Remember when I
took you to Fiddler on the Roof?”
I nodded, not wanting to break the spell by speaking.
I nodded again. That had horrified me, I couldn’t imagine
not falling in love, courting, all that comes with the fun of meeting someone
special, dressing up to go out, etc. The coffee mug warmed my hands, as I
listened enraptured.
“Well, my parents were married like that.”
Rather than actually seeing it, I felt my jaw hit the
floor. “You’re kidding!” I exclaimed without thinking.
“Nope.” He shook his head, watching me with
amusement.“They’d never even seen one another. Married in a little village in
Poland called Tarnapole. It is gone now--burned to the ground by the Nazis, I
think.” His eyes misted over, but continued anyway. “My mother got pregnant
with your Aunt Rebecca almost immediately. My dad was a barrel maker--and a
fine woodworker. He made furniture for people as well. Six months after Rebecca
was born, my mother got pregnant again--with Aunt Rachel. The pogroms went on
at that time, and getting worse every day from what I gathered from my parents.
Money and food were running out. It was quite desperate. My father decided to
come to America, make some money with my mother’s brother who already lived
here in New York, then send for my mother and the two girls. He left taking
nearly two months to get to New York. It was barely three weeks after he
stepped onto Ellis Island when World War One started. My mother and your aunts
were trapped for the next three years. For a while, my dad could get in touch
with them. He sent money, but after about a year, the lines were totally cut
off. He didn’t know where they were, if they were even alive. As far as I know,
he kept working, saving money. My mother on the other hand, was starving. The
pogroms were continuing. The Cossacks were riding through villages, raping
women and running everything that moved through with a sword.” He licked his
lips, concentrating, clearly thinking about what it must have been like for his
mother. My hair stood on end.
“One day, my mother was in the town rather than at their
farm when the Cossacks came riding in. One grabbed my mother around the waist
and lifted her onto the horse while he was moving. He intended to rape her in
the saddle and kill her. She grabbed his pistol from out of the holster around
his waist. She shot him dead as they rode.”
My mouth was open and my eyes were far bigger than
saucers. My dad laughed at my expression. “I know. Totally amazing--she was an
amazing woman. She never told me that story. Her brother told me after she
died. I remember saying to him, ‘My Mother?’ I couldn’t believe it.”
“What happened?” I asked mesmerized. “How did she get away
with it?”.
He nodded solemnly. “I asked the same question. She rode
back to the farm. Her brothers buried the body. They slaughtered the horse and
ate the meat—they couldn’t keep it, even though it would have been great for
the farm, because it would have aroused suspicion and questions--but it was no
longer safe for her or your aunts. People had seen it happen. They knew it
wasn’t long before someone turned her in for a loaf of bread.” He bit the
inside of his cheek, just a bit; frightened for them even though he knew it
turned out alright.
“So she took what she could carry, along with my sisters
and started walking to America.”
“Walking? Are you serious?” I literally could not imagine
walking thousands of miles.
“Yep. She and my sisters hid in the woods during the day
and walked at night for months. Eventually, she joined a refugee line.”
“How long did it take?” I couldn’t imagine. The fear I
felt hearing about it was palpable--what must it have been like to go through
something like that?
“Two years.”
Excerpt 2:
“Jules, were you trying to beat your Dad in a
friendly game of poker?” Jack teased.
“You know,” Dad looked at me, “Jack only invited me to his
poker game once. He never let me come again.” He was grinning slyly.
“Right, we wanted a card shark to play with. You know,” he
turned to me again, “your Dad took home two grand the one night we let him play
with us?”
“Told you then, it was beginners luck.”
“Hardly. Bill Patterson told me that you killed some guy
in a plane over a card game.”
Dad hooted and nearly doubled over. “Did you think that
was true?”
“Well, no,” Jack responded glumly, but I could tell he
might have believed it.
“I do know what he’s talking about. When Jules was about
four, just before her mother and I divorced, we were on a plane coming to New
York. We’d flown from Lubbock to Dallas. The weather was terrible—an ice storm
if I remember correctly. The plane from Dallas to New York had been boarded,
but we were sitting on the tarmac. Hours went by—literally. After three or four
hours, they started serving free booze, no food, just booze. The plane got
blitzed. Those people were drunker than anyone I’ve ever seen, truly.
I’ll never forget; Jules was starving. My ex was begging
the stewardess for some food, crackers, anything. Jules was crying and crying.
Eventually, she fell asleep. Her mother and I were exhausted and angry—we were
furious they won’t give us anything for our child to eat, wouldn’t let us off
the plane and we felt terrible that our four year old had just cried herself to
sleep hungry.
There was no end in sight, so I pulled out the deck of
cards I used to entertain Jules. The ex and I started to play gin rummy.
Usually, she wouldn’t play with me, but there was nothing else to do.
A guy in the row in front of us starts getting really
rowdy. He was laughing, spilling alcohol everywhere. I got up; I was on the
aisle. I can remember touching his shoulder, ‘Excuse me, can you keep it down,
my little girl just fell asleep. ’
‘What’s your problem buddy? ’ He slurred all his words and
talked at the top of his voice. He reeked of alcohol and perspiration.
‘My child is tired and hungry, she’s finally asleep. I’m
asking you, keep it down so that you won’t wake her. ’
‘S’not my problem. What the hell do I care if she wakes
up? ’
That did it. I grabbed the guy by his necktie, shoved him
up into the ceiling of the plane, knocking him out and tossed him into a seat
about three rows back. My ex was so stunned, she jumped and all the cards went
flying into the air, it looked like it was snowing because she had the full
deck to shuffle.
But I’ll tell you, the plane was silent after that—for two
hours until we took off. Also, the stewardess came and brought food for Jules.
Everyone apologized in hushed tones. It was great.”
April 30 - Introduction at VBT
Cafe' Blog
May 1 - Interview & Giveaway at Kimberly Lewis Novels
May 3 - Review & Giveaway at Books, Books, and More Books
May 4 - Interview & Review at A Book Lover's Library
May 8 - Interview & Giveaway at MK McClintock's Blog
May 10 - Guest Blogging at AZ Publishing Services
May 12 - Guest Blogging & Review at Jersey Girl Book Reviews
May 14 - Review & Giveaway at Self Taught Cook
May 16 - Guest Blogging at Wise Words
May 18 - Guest Blogging with Cindy Vine
May 21 - Book Feature & Giveaway at So Many Precious Books, So Little Time
May 21 - Interviewed at Unnecessary Musings
May 1 - Interview & Giveaway at Kimberly Lewis Novels
May 3 - Review & Giveaway at Books, Books, and More Books
May 4 - Interview & Review at A Book Lover's Library
May 8 - Interview & Giveaway at MK McClintock's Blog
May 10 - Guest Blogging at AZ Publishing Services
May 12 - Guest Blogging & Review at Jersey Girl Book Reviews
May 14 - Review & Giveaway at Self Taught Cook
May 16 - Guest Blogging at Wise Words
May 18 - Guest Blogging with Cindy Vine
May 21 - Book Feature & Giveaway at So Many Precious Books, So Little Time
May 21 - Interviewed at Unnecessary Musings
