Bücher von Marian Rizzo

Ah, Spring Break! That annual rite of passage when thousands of winter-weary college students flock to Florida's renowned beaches for two weeks of sun, sand, surf, and suds... and perhaps a bit of shenanigans.There's Panama City Beach, the Spring Break Capital of the World. Further south there is Miami, with its glitz and glamor and shopping. Or South Beach, where the party never ends.But for three poor college students who actually live in Florida, the idea of ditching the state altogether and heading west for an epic road trip is too enthralling to pass up.Charlie, Jamal, and Sean have it all figured out. If they take one car, scrimp on meals, and take advantage of relatives along the road for lodging, they can make it to San Francisco, California, and back home to Gainesville, Florida, in two weeks on $300 each.3 Friends.$300 Each.3,000 Miles.1 Car.What could possibly go wrong?

Francine Maria Capellini was named after her grandmother, and carried with her many of the same personality traits and physical features. As a child, young Frannie would sit enthralled as the elder Francine, Gram to Frannie, regaled her with wild tales of adventure in places far, far away from the humdrum little village of Cittadina, New York.But while Francine seemed content to dwell in the same little house, in the same little town where her family had lived for generations, Frannie couldn't wait to shake the dust off her feet and leave Cittadina in her rear view mirror as soon as she graduated high school. Within a few years she was on the fast track in the high pressure world of news reporting in the Big Apple. She had a great job, a handsome boyfriend, and a life that was a world away from her small town originsThen the call came.Gram had died and left Frannie the house on Maple Street.Frannie would have to return to her home town, fix up the old house, and sell it before she could move on with her life.But Cittadina exerted an unexpected pull on Frannie, and Gram's final bequest provided answers to questions long buried which uncovered Frannie's heart.

Adele Cunningham had died. And she had lived. Two hours of personal testimonies proved as much. Multiple individuals stepped up to the pulpit to share what Mrs. Cunningham had done for them, either through prayers or through advice. The truth was, Adele Cunningham left a legacy that would never die.Overwrought by the loss of her mother, Judy Cunningham needed a place where she could grieve alone. She sought a path through the swarming crowd. Arms fell like gates at a railroad crossing and blocked her way. She endured the body hugs, the wet kisses on her cheek, and the suffocating mix of perfume and body odors. Mumbling her apologies, she broke free and passed from the living room into the kitchen and headed for her mother's bedroom. She slipped inside and eased the door shut.Then, breathing a sigh, she drank deeply of the quiet. A sense of nostalgia took over as she swept her eyes across the four-poster bed, the hand-crocheted granny quilt, and the lacy pillow shams, everything neatly arranged as if Mother had just left the room. On the little bedside table sat a Tiffany lamp, a worn leather Bible, and a box of tissues, remnants of Adele Cunningham's daily meetings with God.She approached her mother's rocker and ran her hand over the curved back."Mom's prayer chair," she whispered.This was where Adele Cunningham met God every morning and every night. Judy settled into the chair, shut her eyes, and imagined her mother's arms enfolding her.She set the rocker in motion and thought about the many notes her mother had left behind for her to deliver. She'd handwritten more than two dozen during her last week in the hospital. One of those little blue envelopes had Judy's name on it. She stared at it for a moment, then slid her fingernail under the flap and opened it.

Living in the country, we fared better than those who lived in the big cities. We were like one big, happy family. You might say we lived in our own little Shangri-La. But the plague of 1918 found us too and it was about to drag us into hell.