Zi71bFS9nQHnivtvUJquhejTHIQ The Story Factory Reading Zone: Tour Stop: A Life in the Service by Roberta Pescow (Review & Excerpt)

Sunday, 23 September 2012

Tour Stop: A Life in the Service by Roberta Pescow (Review & Excerpt)

Author Bio:

About the author: Roberta Pescow is a freelance writer with articles featured on over 200 websites nationwide. She is also a jazz singer with Narrow Escape Duo, performing at venues in and around Northern New Jersey. Roberta is a proud mother of two, and holds a 2nd degree black belt in Tae Kwon Do. As a long time vegetarian, she has a deep love and respect for all creatures. When she gets some free time, Roberta also enjoys sculpture, photography, reading, swimming and quiet time with family, friends and her beloved dog, Summer.


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YA - Fantasy (Novelette)

Date Published: 6/21/12




Jenny accepts the fact that she was born into a domestic race for a life of domestic work. In return for this loyal service, the householders provide food, protection and shelter. Jenny's earthy spirituality and gentle nature allow her to be content with her lot, even when her situation is far from ideal. But during a terrifying fire, Jenny accidentally becomes separated from her master and mistress. 

Out on the street with no identification, Jenny finds herself an unlikely fugitive with no protection from a dangerous world. The experience shakes her beliefs to the core and causes her to question everything she has ever known. Follow Jenny's adventures in strange world of inequality that is a lot closer to home than you think. This novelette is approximately 12,000 words in length.

My review:

This book wasn't at all what I was expecting. I won't reveal why, but let's just say that there's a little (intended) twist to the tale.
What this story was is a short and simple tale, heartbreaking in places. The action was interesting and the main character well-developed.
Not really my cup-of-tea, but great for those looking for a relaxing tale to occupy an hour or so. Would make a good bed-time or holiday read.

*Disclosure of Material Connection: I am a member of Reading Addiction Blog Tours and a copy of this book was provided to me by the author. Although payment may have been received by Reading Addiction Blog Tours, no payment was received by me in exchange for this review. There was no obligation to write a positive review. All opinions expressed are entirely my own and may not necessarily agree with those of the author, publisher, publicist, or readers of this review. This disclosure is in accordance with the Federal Trade Commision’s 16 CFR, Part 255, Guides Concerning Use of Endorcements and Testimonials in Advertising*

To my amazement, the rats appeared to be as afraid of me as I was of them, and they made a hasty retreat. Still shaking, I approached the garbage can and reached toward the lid. In my uncertain state, I was clumsier than I would have liked. I’m embarrassed to say I dropped the lid and tipped the entire garbage can over with an awful clash. I had but a moment to grab a loaf of challah before a group of workers came rushing out of the bakery to investigate the commotion. I ran like the wind, even though my feet hurt terribly, and luck stayed with me in that none of them had the time or inclination to pursue me any distance.

    And so I found myself back at the enormous cardboard box, sitting in a corner and munching on sweet, fresh challah bread that was only very slightly burned at the crust. Actually I felt quite pleased with myself. Adrenaline still surged through my brain, making the sky seem brighter, the air fresher and even the bread sweeter than I could have ever imagined. I had never felt so alive! Perhaps my mother was wrong, I thought, and I could work things out on my own after all.
    One of the legends of our people is that long ago, when the earth was young, our first ancestors had no association at all with the householders. They survived only by their strength, their cunning and their skills. But then, the legend has it, something was altered in our line and we no longer were born with the attributes necessary for survival. Thus, we were forever destined to serve the householders, who in return, maintain us. Perhaps this story is true, or perhaps it is not. Domestics have served householders ever since the beginning of our known history. But on that morning, with stolen sweetness still warm on my tongue, I began to believe there was something to that old story, and that at least some tiny vestige of our proud, ancient ancestors coursed through my gentle veins.

Action Reader's Action: Give a pound or, better still, some food to a homeless person or homeless charity.

Question: What do you think of whe you hear/read the word 'domestic'?

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