Inspired by one of America’s most notorious couples, Bonnie and Clyde, Jennifer L. Wright delivers a riveting tale set during the public enemy era of the Great Depression.
Welcome to NovelPASTimes! Today we’re joined by Miss Beatrice Carraway. Welcome, Beatrice!
Beatrice: Thank you for having me.
Why don’t you go ahead and tell our readers a little bit about yourself?
Beatrice: Well, my name is Beatrice Carraway, but I guess you’ve already told them that. I’m nineteen years old, and I live in Dallas, Texas, with my mother and my little sister, Eleanor.
Dallas! That sounds exciting!
Beatrice: Well . . . West Dallas.
Oh.
Beatrice: But I work across the river in Dallas proper! It’s my grandparents’ house, you see, over there in West Dallas, and my mom, sister, and I are just living there until we can save up some money. We don’t plan on actually staying in that dirty, mosquito-infested, smoke-covered pit. I mean, I trust you’ve heard what they call it?
No, actually.
Beatrice: The Devil’s Back Porch.
Oh my.
Beatrice: Exactly. Nothing but petty thieves, drunks, and factory workers. No thank you. But it won’t be long before I’m across that Trinity River for good, like I’m supposed to be. I’ll have the fancy house, fancy car, fancy clothes. All of it. I mean, having you seen some of the dresses they sell downtown? Silk with dropped waists and creeping hemlines? Goodness. I’d just die to have some of those frocks in my closet.
Well, you look very lovely as it is, Beatrice.
Beatrice: Thank you. I do my best with what I have. This one I’m wearing today I altered from an old dress that had grown thin in the collar. See how I cut the neckline into a V shape and added some fringe? And I added this patch of white cotton to the left shoulder, which I also fringed, to make it a bit more with the times. I based it on a dress I saw in a window display downtown.
You seem to know a lot about fashion.
Beatrice: Well, I have to. It’s part of the job.
The job?
Beatrice: I’m an actress. And we actresses have to stay on top of the latest trends. I mean, what would our fans think if they saw us out in a prairie dress or hobble skirt? Would you want to watch a woman dressed like that up on the stage?
I—
Beatrice: You wouldn’t. Trust me. I may have been born with a face fit for the silver screen, but the clothes are what really make a dame stand out above all the rest.
Is that so? Well, that’s very interesting, Beatrice. I’ve never met an actress. What shows have you been in? Anything I might have seen?
Beatrice: Umm . . . well . . . nothing in Dallas. Yet. I’m fairly new to the city, and I’m still waiting for the directors here to finally figure out what a talent has landed on their doorstop. I mean, I was Little Miss Firecracker, 1916. I performed a rendition of “Alabama Jubilee” that had the judges two-steppin’ faster than a three-legged cat on a Texas sidewalk at noontime in July.
Interesting metaphor.
Beatrice: Thank you.
Well, so, what are you doing in the meantime? As you wait for the actress thing to pan out?
Beatrice: Right now I’m waiting tables at Hargrave’s. It’s right downtown, and the tips are pretty good, especially being so close to the medical school. Lot of lonely college boys looking for a good time, if you know what I mean.
I’m not sure I do. By “tips” you do mean just extra change for good service and a quick meal, don’t you?
Beatrice. Yes . . . *winks* and no.
*Coughs*
Beatrice: Oh, stop. It’s not like that. They just like to take us waitresses out for drinks and dancing sometimes. It’s nice to have a night out on the town. I certainly wouldn’t be able to afford it on my paycheck.
So I’m guessing you have your fair share of beaus, then?
Beatrice: *shrugs* I’ve been on a lot of dates, but none of them have been keepers. I’m still looking. But I’ll tell you one thing.
What’s that?
Beatrice: When I do find the right man, it’s going to be forever. Just me and him until the very end, whenever and however that may be.
Well, thank you for your time, Beatrice. I look forward to seeing your name up in lights—or in print—very soon.
Beatrice: Oh, you will. I guarantee it.
About the Author

Jennifer L. Wright has been writing since middle school, eventually earning a master’s degree in journalism at Indiana University. However, it took only a few short months of covering the local news for her to realize that writing fiction is much better for the soul and definitely way more fun. A born and bred Hoosier, she was plucked from the Heartland after being swept off her feet by an Air Force pilot and has spent the past decade traveling the world and, every few years, attempting to make old curtains fit in the windows of a new home. She currently resides in New Mexico with her husband, two children, one grumpy old dachshund, and her newest obsession—a guinea pig named Peanut Butter Cup.
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In this book we meet William Eng, a young Chinese boy living in a Catholic orphanage in Seattle. He remembers his mother and is sure the singer who is performing in town by the name of Willow Frost is his mother Liu Song. He escapes along with his blind friend Charlotte and they search for her. The reunion is not as joyful as he was expecting, however, and we are taken back to the 1920s and learn Liu Song’s sorrowful story of abuse and a love lost. William experiences his own loss and eventually returns to the orphanage.