{"product_id":"lemon-city-isbn-9780812970333","title":"Lemon City","description":"\u003ci\u003eIn this wry fiction debut, Elaine Meryl Brown plunges lucky readers into a gripping narrative of small-town hijinks and big-time hearts.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eRule Number One: Never marry an Outsider. If you do, the boll weevil will bite you back. Rule Number Two: If you can’t be honest, you might as well be dead.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNestled in the foothills of Virginia’s Blue Ridge mountains, Lemon City has ten rules, all designed in the best interests of its tight-knit black community. Granddaddy Dunlap knows all too well what can happen to folks who venture beyond Lemon City’s protective borders. He once had to venture outside town to identify his best friend’s body. So when his firebrand granddaughter Faye, returns from college married to an Outsider, he must act fast to keep her in Lemon City’s safe embrace. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt proves to be a challenge–and not just because the patriarch is distracted by the tensions arising from the heated tomato-growing contest for the annual county fair. Faye’s new husband, Harry, is a slick talker with a roving eye. Faye sees him as her ticket to New York City, where she hopes to fulfill big business dreams, but even the best-laid plans can be thwarted, as Faye discovers that marriage itself isn’t much of a honeymoon. No matter. She packs her bags, fully prepared to head north with or without her husband, when Harry turns up dead. Now the Dunlap family is trying to figure out–before the Thanksgiving turkey gets cold–who did the deed.“A warm and witty novel . . . Brown’s richly woven characters, with their quirky ways and fierce protectiveness of family traditions, are at once strange and strangely familiar.” \u003cbr\u003e–CONNIE BRISCOE, author of \u003ci\u003eP.G. County\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A quirky family mystery with loads of tangy charm. A delightful read!”\u003cbr\u003e–VALERIE WILSON WESLEY, author of \u003ci\u003eDying in the Dark\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A superb debut novel, full of vividly drawn, complex characters. Elaine Brown’s writing is gorgeous and beautifully blends romance, black culture, and mystery. This is a treat!” \u003cbr\u003e–YOLANDA JOE, author of \u003ci\u003eMy Fine Lady\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003ci\u003eLemon City\u003c\/i\u003e is a superb debut novel, full of vividly drawn, complex characters. Elaine Brown’s writing is gorgeous and beautifully blends romance, black culture, and mystery. It is a treat!” \u003cbr\u003e–YOLANDA JOE, author of \u003ci\u003eMy Fine Lady\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003eElaine Meryl Brown\u003c\/b\u003e is a former vice president of creative services at HBO and has held the position of creative director at Showtime Networks. She is an Emmy Award–winning writer. Brown has written for national publications including \u003ci\u003eEssence\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eWomen's World\u003c\/i\u003e.CHAPTER ONE\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e thanksgiving day, 1973\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e If Harry were going to die, it was a good thing he picked a holiday.  Since the Dunlap family was normally together on Thanksgiving Day,  being under house arrest wasn't too much of an inconvenience.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWith one eyebrow raised, Louise checked out the activity around the  dinner table. She couldn't believe that her family seemed to be more  preoccupied with eating food than with facing the possibility of any  one of them going to jail. Everyone was carrying on like nobody had  died, as if the only dark meat to consider was on the porcelain  platter, not lying on a stainless-steel slab in the morgue. If anyone  had asked her, that's where she'd say the real turkey lay, frozen on  ice, not crispy, oven-baked, and carved on Nana's fine china. She  knew they'd have to get their alibis straight. Before they all  retired for the evening, she'd have to make sure they'd shared their  stories so there'd be no holes when the sheriff came calling in the  morning to question them. Even though Louise felt sorry for her  sister, Faye, she also felt Faye should never have married her newly  deceased husband. But it's hard to advise a baby sister, Louise told  herself to prevent from feeling guilty, as she passed the turkey  platter to Faye.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFaye jabbed the meat with her fork like she meant to hurt it. After  lifting it onto her plate, she used her finger like a crowbar to  remove the chunks of dark meat from the tines, much as she had pried  herself away from Harry. Ever since she was a little girl, she'd  wanted to have a husband, but she had never once considered that her  marriage would end, never mind conclude with her husband on a cold  metal slab. Under different circumstances, Harry's death might have  been perceived as a tragedy. But toward the end of their  relationship, there had been no love lost between them. Because the  whole town knew their marriage was falling apart, Faye only hoped the  finger-pointing wouldn't be aimed just at her, especially since her  family had grown to dislike Harry, much like rust rapidly spreading  across a cast-iron pan. She knew the townspeople felt she had picked  the wrong husband and believed she had brought this mess upon herself.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLemon City never took kindly to strangers, but Faye Dunlap was a  nonconformist. She had broken the Outsider Rule and now her husband,  Harry, was dead--dead as the turkey stuffed with a red apple, lying  belly-up on Nana's knotty pine table covered with Lincoln lace. As  Faye stared at the turkey, it reminded her of the last time she'd  seen Harry, flat on his back on their living room floor with his  stomach distended and a tomato lodged in his mouth.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThis year, out of respect for the dead, there were no tomatoes tossed  into Nana Dunlap's mixed-greens salad. Even though there were bushels  of her homegrown tomatoes sitting idle in her backyard, Nana had used  freshly picked radishes from her garden to add color to the lettuce  and cucumber instead.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGranddaddy Dunlap bowed his head and said the grace. \"Dear Lord,  thank you for the food on this table this Thanksgiving Day and for  bringing this family together--minus one. Amen.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNormally, when death sneaks up without warning and steals away a  family member, the living feel robbed. That wasn't the case with  Harry. He was a mean man and had deserved to die, but trouble hadn't  died with him, not completely. His demise had raised suspicion about  the family, making everyone at the table suspect. Now they were all  under house arrest; they had to stay put until tomorrow morning, when  the Jefferson County Sheriff came by to start the murder  investigation.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIf Granddaddy had told his grandchildren once he had told them a  thousand times: never marry an Outsider. It was one of ten sacred  rules that had protected Lemon City over the years, insulating the  town like plastic wrap from the rest of the world, preserving its  sacred customs. He had difficulty with the thinking of today's young  people; their whole notion of \"self\" and \"finding one's self\" was  disturbing to him. As far as he knew, young folks did what they  wanted to do and didn't pay attention to the consequences. They  totally disregarded the fact that their ancestors had already looked  at life for them, so that all they had to do was listen and do what  they were told. But no, today's young people acted on their own. And  the thing that led them to this independence, the thing they referred  to as \"discovering their individuality,\" he didn't think was a  benefit to the colored community in general. There wouldn't be a  Lemon City if their ancestors hadn't stuck together, keeping the  distractions that strangers brought with them at a distance. Being  together as one and living life with common goals were the only ways  the townspeople could survive. That was the reason The Rules had been  invented in the first place.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGranddaddy and Nana were living proof that if you obeyed them, The  Rules worked. Their forty years of marriage were the result of being  grounded in their roots, being fed the same nutrients from the same  soil. On the other hand, his late grandson-in-law, Harry Lee  Thompson, had few roots; the roots Granddaddy had witnessed over the  course of a year had grown only for his granddaughter, then withered  and died. No, Harry was definitely not the husband he would have  chosen for his granddaughter, Faye, but she hadn't asked him for his  opinion. That's why everyone at the table was in this convoluted  mess. He lifted the turkey platter and took a helping of dark meat,  and then went back for two slices of white. He then passed the  platter to his right, to his grandson, Billy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBilly felt a sense of relief. The worry lines on his forehead had  started to relax and the ache in his trick knee had begun to fade now  that his pain-in-the-ass brother-in-law was gone. Harry's sorry ass  was out of sight and never coming back. As much as it was his job to  uphold the law, Billy knew from experience that there were just some  matters that needed to be taken into your own hands. He helped  himself to turkey, and then served his wife, Elvira, sitting next to  him. Rationing food to Elvira was a habit he had developed at family  gatherings over the past few years, as a way of helping her to manage  her weight. Even though he loved that she was plump in all the right  places, big-boned yet firm like hard rubber, he didn't want her to  start jiggling like the jellied cranberry sauce that wobbled on the  saucer every time someone bumped against the table.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMoving her eyes back and forth like an eagle trying to get close  enough to catch its prey, Elvira watched as Billy calculated exactly  how much she should consume at dinner. Knowing he enjoyed a sense of  control, she let him go through his ritual thinking he was in charge.  She would do whatever made him happy. If she got hungry later, she'd  go back for seconds, even thirds, and not pay him any mind even if he  cleared his throat or rattled his silverware on the table. There was  no mistaking the meaning behind the way Billy took his time to serve  her, the way he picked out each slice of turkey with such care that  she understood he catered to her plate purely out of love. She looked  across the table at Faye. She felt sorry for her sister-in-law, who  hadn't had the chance to experience the kind of love only a good man  knows how to give a woman. Now that Harry was out of the way, dead as  a slug caught out in the sun after a heavy rain, Faye would find out.  Turning her attention back to Billy, she saw he was topping off the  turkey with brown gravy, limiting the passage of kidney and gizzard  chunks onto her plate with a slotted spoon. He handed the platter to  her and she passed it over to Nana.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSitting opposite Granddaddy at the other end of the table, Nana was  happy to have more elbow room, a little more space for resting  platters and serving the meal, now that they didn't have to  accommodate her granddaughter's recently expired husband, Harry. She  didn't miss the tall, lanky, coffee brown body that reminded her of a  stick of beef jerky, squeezing between her granddaughters Faye and  Louise at her table. Regardless of the room they'd created for Harry,  he never quite seemed to fit in. As she transferred some dark meat  onto her plate, Nana noticed the air seemed to be lighter than usual,  and the house appeared to be brighter, despite the fact it was an  overcast and dreary day outside. Yes, indeed, the darkness had  lifted. She was content to have her original family back together  again.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFaye daydreamed about her dead husband at the Thanksgiving table,  wondering whether or not he would have decided at the last minute to  come up North with her, or if he would have chosen to stay in Lemon  City. To get her attention, Nana pushed the cornbread stuffing under  her nose. Taking the bowl from her grandmother, Faye scooped a  tablespoon of the lumpy yellow meal onto her plate and went back to  collecting her thoughts. She couldn't help feeling responsible for  Harry's demise, as well as a strong sense of regret. If only she  hadn't ignored the Outsider Rule, her situation might be different.  How she wished she could start this part of her life over again, pick  up from the day she'd met Harry on campus. Instead of stopping to  talk to him when he called her, she should have kept right on walking  and never looked back. Better yet, she should have had the courage to  leave Lemon City on her own to begin with, instead of thinking she  needed to be married in order to escape it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I still can't believe the Jefferson County Sheriff's Office took me  off this case,\" said Billy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Billy, they had to take you off the case because of the conflict of  interest,\" said Louise, not caring that she was talking with her  mouth full.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"You can't investigate the death of your own brother-in-law,  especially when the Jefferson County Sheriff's Office thinks you may  have been involved,\" Faye added. \"But if you're innocent, there's  nothing to worry about, right? Who cares about who's doing the  investigating?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBilly's desperation to get involved in the case made Faye wonder if  he had something to hide. Maybe she hadn't been the first person to  arrive home and find Harry dead on the floor. Her brother's hatred  for her husband was no secret.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"You got anything to worry about?\" Billy shot back at her. \"You're  the one who allegedly found him lying dead on the floor.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"What are you trying to say, that I killed my own husband?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"You were planning on leaving him, anyway. It would have been easier  for you to leave if he were dead. No strings attached that way, now  ain't that right?\" He winked at his sister and stretched his leg  underneath the table to work out the stiffness in his trick knee.  When he snapped the joint back into place, there was a loud pop.  Everyone used to wince when Billy released the pressure, as if the  pain belonged to them, but now they were accustomed to the  interruption and kept on eating as if the firecracker noise was a  normal part of the meal and conversation.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"If you ask me, I say he had a heart attack,\" Granddaddy offered.  \"The man dropped dead and died. Plain and simple. Don't think that  just because you're young that the ole ticker can't stop working.\"  Granddaddy pounded his fist rapidly against his chest and then  stopped suddenly when he started to cough. \"Then I have this other  theory,\" he added, trying to get back his breath. \"Evil just came and  got him. Reached its ugly hand up from hell and claimed its own.\" He  lifted his arm above his head, pretending to grab something out of  thin air, and dragged it down to the table to illustrate his point.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Can we stop talking about death and dying?\" said Billy's wife  Elvira. \"After all, we're at the dinner table, and this is  Thanksgiving. Nana, these turnip greens are delicious. Did you cook  'em with pork or with smoked turkey wings?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I just don't like anyone messing around in my jurisdiction,\" said  Billy, trying not to make the conversation sound too morbid as a  courtesy to his wife. \"I know how to do my job and be completely  objective. The man was not my blood kin, and on this Thanksgiving  Day, that's something to be thankful for.\" He raised his glass of  iced tea in a toast. When he put it back down, he stuffed a piece of  turkey into his mouth.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Well, there's something I'm not thankful for,\" said Louise.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"What's that?\" said Granddaddy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I'm not thankful that we had to cancel the Annual County Fair on  account of Harry.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"You can say that again,\" said Nana. \"He was bad news in general, but  it's a shame he had to get specific and mess up tradition. He always  did have a way of spoiling things.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Ain't that the truth,\" said Elvira.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"He's still managing to do it, even from the grave,\" added Louise.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"He's not in the grave yet,\" said Granddaddy. \"He's only in the morgue.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Can we please stop talking about dead folks while I'm trying to  eat?\" Elvira's eyes widened. \"Y'all hush, now. I'm trying to enjoy my  food.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Yeah, too bad about the Fair,\" Faye said to Nana, patting her  grandmother on the hand. \"This was supposed to be your year for  Tomato Queen for a Day, winning the grand prize over Ole Miss  Johnson, huh?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"And I woulda done it, too,\" she said. \"This year that crown had my  name on it.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNana took growing tomatoes to new heights, but no matter what she  did, she couldn't achieve her dream, to be crowned \"Tomato Queen for  a Day\" by winning the grand tomato prize at the Annual County Fair.  There was no limit to what Nana could do with tomatoes. Experimenting  with the juicy red fruit had led her to discovering recipes that were  a testament to the diversity of her culinary skills. She added  tomatoes to potato salad, deviled eggs, omelets, stews, casseroles,  breads, and meat sauces. She served them barbecued, baked, broiled,  scalloped, stuffed, grilled, canned, dilled, glazed with wine and  brown sugar, made them into jams and piccalilli, fried them when they  were green and baked green-tomato pie. Here came another year that  would leave her without the crown, and she had been so close, which  made the cancellation so much worse to bear.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Annual County Fair was two years away from its centennial; Nana  was determined to break Lurleen's hold as the reigning queen before  the fair celebrated its one hundredth year. If she couldn't bring  this victory to the Crawford name within a century, it would be time  to turn in her garden gloves and tools and teach herself a new hobby.  Perhaps she'd have to settle on the knitting she was doing for her  unborn great-grandchildren to occupy her spare time.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSaint, who really acted more like a dog than a cat, jumped into  Nana's lap, nuzzling against her mistress in a show of compassion and  support. Grateful for the display of affection, Nana stroked Saint  along her back and scratched the fur between her ears, making the cat  purr like an engine. Guiding her gently back down to the floor, Nana  fed Saint a piece of white meat from her plate to return the cat's  dedication. Because Saint also loved tomatoes, Nana picked a radish  out of the salad bowl and held it under her nose to see if she would  like this new round, red vegetable. Saint took one sniff, turned up  her nose and walked away.Sometimes murder can bring out the best in a family....","brand":"One World\/Strivers Row","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46301336076517,"sku":"NP9780812970333","price":19.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780812970333.jpg?v=1767731298","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/lemon-city-isbn-9780812970333","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}