The Making of Nebraska Brown The last thing eighteen-year-old Ann Leigh remembers is running from her boyfriend in a thick Nebraska cornfield. This morning she’s staring down a cool Italian sunrise, an entire continent from the life she once knew. The events of the eighteen months in between have inexplicably gone missing from her memory. All at once she’s living with Tommy, an attractive, young foreigner asking for her continued love. Though he’s vaguely familiar, she recalls a boy named Shane in America who she reluctantly agreed to marry. Juggling a new world while her old one is still M.I.A is difficult enough without the terrifying movie scenes spinning a dizzy loop in her mind: glimpses of a devastating house fire, a romance gone wrong, an unplanned pregnancy, and a fractured family – each claiming to be part of who she once was – a girl and a past somehow discarded. Ann Leigh must collect the pieces of herself to become whole again, but she doesn’t know who to trust especially when Tommy’s lies become too obvious to ignore. And above all, her heart aches to discover what became of the child she may or may not have given birth to. The Making of Nebraska Brown tells the story of one girl’s coming apart from the inside and the great lengths she’ll go to reclaim herself and find her way home.
I took a load off, sitting down next to the bag, looking up at the sky. What did I know about myself? What did I know that Tommy hadn’t told me?
I knew I had itchy, sore feet, a mother somewhere, a Fancy Room in Nebraska, a wealthy boyfriend, and someone named Shane floating around in my imagination. I loved green apples.
It wasn’t nearly enough. I needed to fill in more blanks. On my own. I closed my eyes. Inhaled.
I had breath, a heartbeat, and—someplace locked deep inside—a history.
I willed it to come back again. It didn’t. A sweet, fruity breeze laid its fingers through my hair. I was tired, so very. I leaned into a wide-trunked tree behind me. The bark was rough against my skin. It was about as real as I’d felt in over a week. I dug in, inviting cuts, snags, slits, blood. Then they could type me. I could visit the doctor and demand to know my DNA. Ana Lisa Carcossi’s DNA. Because that’s who I was. At least that’s what Tommy said. My breathing steadied. I kept my eyes shut. A strumming started, like the plucking of a fiddle chord. The same chord, over and over. And then I was gone.
Author Louise Caiola
As a young girl who spent her allowance on Nancy Drew mysteries, Louise realized that one day, she might have a story of her own to tell. Maybe even more than one story. After years focused on raising her children she eventually reconnected with her passion for creative writing. She soon began to craft a large collection of short stories which were published in the inspirational online magazine, Faithhopeandfiction.com. Shortly thereafter, she authored her first novel, Wishless, a contemporary YA, released in 2011.
Louise devotes a portion of each day to honing her skills. She has several other novels currently in various stages of development. A confirmed bibliophile, Louise enjoys reading outdoors on a warm spring day and watching her pup chase leaves on a breeze. She looks forward to meeting others who share her love of the written word and invites you to visit her blog, her website and follow her on Twitter and Facebook.
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