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The Funeral Dress: A Novel [NOOK Book]

Overview

A deeply touching Southern story filled with struggle and hope.

     Emmalee Bullard and her new baby are on their own. Or so she thinks, until Leona Lane, the older seamstress who sat by her side at the local shirt factory where both women worked as collar makers, insists Emmalee come and live with her.  Just as Emmalee prepares to escape her hardscrabble life in Red Chert holler, Leona dies tragically.  ...
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The Funeral Dress: A Novel

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Overview

A deeply touching Southern story filled with struggle and hope.

     Emmalee Bullard and her new baby are on their own. Or so she thinks, until Leona Lane, the older seamstress who sat by her side at the local shirt factory where both women worked as collar makers, insists Emmalee come and live with her.  Just as Emmalee prepares to escape her hardscrabble life in Red Chert holler, Leona dies tragically.  Grief-stricken, Emmalee decides she’ll make Leona’s burying dress, but there are plenty of people who don't think the unmarried Emmalee should design a dress for a Christian woman - or care for a child on her own. But with every stitch, Emmalee struggles to do what is right for her daughter and to honor Leona the best way she can, finding unlikely support among an indomitable group of seamstresses and the town’s funeral director. In a moving tale exploring Southern spirit and camaraderie among working women, a young mother will compel a town to become a community.

Now with Extra Libris material, including a reader’s guide and bonus content


From the Trade Paperback edition.
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Editorial Reviews

From the Publisher
“A tender, graceful novel that addresses questions of class and social isolation… Gilmore imbues her story with a deep compassion for the lives of the working poor while offering a vivid picture of factory life and the sense of community it inspired among its workers.” Booklist

“A young woman in Appalachia battles poverty, discrimination and her own insecurity in this moving and memorable novel…A revelatory novel that offers an evocative account of the lives of Appalachian working women.” Kirkus

“Beloved writer Susan Gregg Gilmore takes a huge leap forward with her new novel The Funeral Dressthat rare book which is not only a book club natural and a page-turning "great read," but a stunning, serious literary work which ought to be up for every award out there. Its themes of rural poverty, class, and working women's hard lives are balanced by the bonds of community and love. The Funeral Dress is a lovely, memorable novel. So go ahead and buy two copiesone for yourself, and one for your best friend.” —Lee Smith, author of Mrs. Darcy and the Blue-Eyed Stranger
 
"This story of a young female textile worker encountering adversity in a small southern town reveals the remarkable power of friendship, community, and the gift of sewing. A vivid tribute to the efforts of a courageous band of sisters." —Rachel Simon, author of The Story Of Beautiful Girl and Riding The Bus With My Sister
 
“Susan Gregg Gilmore’s The Funeral Dress is a rare and wonderful glimpse into lives and friendships among blue collar working women in America.” —Fannie Flagg, author of Can’t Wait to Get to Heaven
Kirkus Reviews
2013-08-15
A young woman in Appalachia battles poverty, discrimination and her own insecurity in this moving and memorable third novel from Gilmore (Looking for Salvation at the Dairy Queen, 2008, etc.). In 1974, when Emmalee Bullard gets a job sewing collars at the Tennewa shirt factory, the 16-year-old begins the escape from the miserable poverty in which she was raised. After her mother died years ago, her care fell to her father, Nolan, a handsome, angry drunkard who barely kept her fed or clothed (her schoolteacher took to bathing her in the janitor's closet). At Tennewa, she is seated next to Leona, a secretive woman, broken from the death of her baby boy years ago. Childless, Leona and Curtis still live in the starter trailer they bought as newlyweds; she takes in extra sewing, and he devotes his life to their church. Leona is hard, but she is the closest thing Emmalee has had to mothering care in years, and so, when, three years later, Emmalee has a baby she calls Kelly Faye, Leona invites them to live at the trailer. Tragedy strikes the day before they're to move in: Curtis and Leona are killed in a car accident. The funeral director allows Emmalee to sew Leona's burying dress, so she drops Kelly Faye off at her uncle's (his childless wife can't wait to get her hands on the baby) and goes to the trailer to work on Leona's dress. There, she sees the room Leona prepared: a bed and a crib, baby toys and books, small sweet clothes Leona sewed herself. Heartbroken, Emmalee sews the dress out of red damask and then becomes ill. When she goes to retrieve Kelly Faye, her uncle refuses to give her back, claiming the baby would be better off with them and all they can offer. Shunned by the community, Emmalee's not sure she's fit to be a mother, but then a surprising thing happens--the women of Tennewa begin to stand behind her. A revelatory novel that offers an evocative account of the lives of Appalachian working women.
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780307886224
  • Publisher: Crown Publishing Group
  • Publication date: 9/3/2013
  • Sold by: Random House
  • Format: eBook
  • Pages: 368
  • Sales rank: 62,680
  • File size: 3 MB

Meet the Author

SUSAN GREGG GILMORE is the author of the novels Looking for Salvation at the Dairy Queen and The Improper Life of Bezellia Grove.  She has written for the Chattanooga Times Free Press, the Los Angeles Times and the Christian Science Monitor. Born in Nashville, she lives in Tennessee with her husband and three daughters.
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Read an Excerpt

Emmalee

The Tennewa Shirt Factory

1974

Emmalee Bullard became a Tennewa girl on the last Thursday in May. She woke early that morning, like always, in the back of a two-room house squeezed in tight at the foot of Pine Mountain. But today she'd slipped away beneath the oaks and cedars without waking her father.

A steady line of cars pulled into the Tennewa parking lot, and women, mixed in conversations, spilled out of each automobile and herded past her. They giggled and pushed against one another as they funneled inside the one-story building, not noticing the willowy teenager lingering behind them. Standing on the rough asphalt drive outside the shirt factory, Emmalee listened to the hum rolling from the building's open doors as it swelled and deepened. The sound coursed through her body and lured Emmalee closer.

The shift bell rang. Emmalee climbed the concrete steps leading to the sewing room and slid onto the factory's floor, hugging the wall like a shadow skimming along smooth and silent. A dozen fans spinning from the whitewashed ceiling provided the only relief from the thick morning air. Fluorescent bulbs cast an artificial glow about the room, and the hardwood flooring, its patina smooth with age, sparkled beneath the light. High-set windows spanned both sides of the building, but most of the panes had been painted gray.

Heavyset women with thick, flabby arms and weathered skin sat in perfect rows next to younger girls with slender frames and long hair clipped behind their heads. Concentrating on the fabric streaming through their hands, they looked almost dwarfed in the large space. Their bodies nearly touched as they hunched in front of their machines, trying to make ends meet with every single stitch. Even those who had rushed past her in the parking lot had already taken their places and begun the day's work.

"You hunting your mama? Go on in, girl," said a man in oil-stained coveralls with a tool belt hanging low on his hips.

"No, sir."

"What you need?"

"A job."

The man took another look at Emmalee.

"How old are you?"

"Old enough."

He grinned and pointed to a closed door. "Office is over there."

"Thank you," she said, her eyes turned to the floor.

The office walls were painted the color of butter beans not quite ready to pick. A few metal folding chairs and a rack for hanging coats were the only furnishings in the small space other than a tall wooden counter anchoring the right side of the room. A woman perched on a stool behind the counter peered over the rim of her cat-eyed glasses and smiled.

"Can I help you?" she asked and adjusted the glasses on the bridge of her nose. A wad of blond hair teased and piled on top of her head held a ballpoint pen and a yellow pencil. Emmalee thought this woman beautiful and caught herself admiring her pearly skin and perfect red lips.

"Sweetie, you need something?" the woman repeated.

"I was wanting to know . . . I mean I was wondering if . . ."

"What is it, hon?"

"I'm wanting to work. Here. At Tennewa."

The woman studied Emmalee.

"How old are you?"

"Old enough."

"Well, you need to be eighteen. Anything younger than that and you'll have to get a permit. It's not a big deal, but we'll need it on file here. So how old are you?"

"Seventeen," Emmalee said. She tucked her hair behind her ears. "Come September. I'll be seventeen in September. I'm sixteen."

"Okay." The woman shuffled a stack of papers but kept her eyes on Emmalee. "That's fine. You graduate from high school early?"

"Don't go no more." Emmalee did not confess she had quit only yesterday. She had run late for the bus again, and Nolan refused to drive her the four miles in the pickup. He said it was time for her to get a job, not waste her days listening to a bunch of bullshit. He wasn't carrying her nowhere near that school, he told her.

"That's okay, hon. We always ask. I don't recognize you though. You from Cullen or you drive over from Pikeville or Jasper?"

"Cullen."

"Who your people?"

"Bullard."

"Hmm." The woman tapped her pencil on the counter's smoothed top. "You by chance Nolan Bullard's girl, the one that makes them crosses when somebody dies?"

Emmalee looked away. She knew people in Cullen had heard of her cross-making. She had seen plenty walk back into Red Chert to inspect her handiwork. Some thought it interesting, pretty even, while others poked fun. Emmalee didn't want to talk about it no matter how this woman judged her habit of commemorating the dead.

"Yes, ma'am," she said.

"How about that. I'm Gwen Whitlow." She extended her hand over the counter. Emmalee hesitated but shook the woman's hand. "I heard you made a cross for my daddy when he passed two years ago. Landis. Landis Williams. You remember him?"

"Yes, ma'am. I remember them all. Their names, that is."

Emmalee knew the full names of all those who had died in Cullen in recent years: George Chester Lamb, Floyd Wade Kenner, Berta Grant Price, Landis Bell Williams. She had made a cross for each one of them, even those she didn't know or didn't much like. But she had lost count of the number of crosses made since starting eleven years ago come June fifteenth, only four days after her mama died.

"Heard they're all nailed to an old tree. Nearly covered up by now."

"Yes, ma'am. A white oak. It's dead too."

"Huh. How about that." Mrs. Whitlow pursed her lips and rolled her stool a few inches back. "Kind of a peculiar thing for a young girl to be doing," she said. "But you look normal to me, and we are hiring. Can you sew?"

"Yes, ma'am. Some." Emmalee could place a button on a shirt and stitch a simple seam on a machine, all things she had learned at school. She made a two-pocket apron last spring, even placed the hem by hand.

"You don't really need to know how. We'll train you. This is real specific work. It just helps a bit, especially in the beginning. Any chance you had Easter Nichols for Home Economics?"

"Yes, ma'am." Emmalee stifled a small laugh. She had never heard anyone call her teacher by her first name.

"Easter's been working here since she retired from the high school end of last May. She's a wonderful seamstress. Does beautiful work. Always meets her quota unless she gets to talking." Mrs. Whitlow tugged on the ballpoint pen buried within the beehive heaped on top of her head. Emmalee expected the woman's hair to fall, but it held in place. "Go ahead and fill out this application. Get comfortable, as best you can in one of those old chairs, and take your time. Only got a couple of positions open, but you might be the very girl we're looking for."

Emmalee chewed on her left thumbnail while she wrote her name, address, and birth date with her other hand. She didn't know her Social Security number or what that was. She didn't even know if she had one, although Mrs. Whitlow reassured her they were easy to get and handed Emmalee another form. Emmalee bit some loose skin between her teeth.

She didn't have any past work experience, which worried her some. But she didn't have a criminal record, which made her feel better. She left those parts blank and handed the clipboard and pen back to Mrs. Whitlow, who was coaxing her hair higher on top of her head.

"Let me talk to Mr. Clayton," Mrs. Whitlow said. "He's the general manager here at Tennewa. I'll be back in a minute. Here's a magazine you can read if you like." She handed Emmalee last month's issue of Ladies' Home Journal, featuring a four-layer yellow cake with chocolate frosting on the cover.

A young man with a bolt of denim fabric balanced on his shoulder and a stubby pencil wedged behind his ear passed through the lobby on his way to the sewing room. The noise roared loud as the door opened, and Emmalee bent forward to steal a peek. But the door slammed closed behind the man, shutting out the din of the machines.

"Emmalee." Mrs. Whitlow walked in front of the counter, stopping to check her lips in a small mirror mounted on the wall.. "Mr. Clayton is on the phone with a vendor down in Georgia, but he said if I felt good about you, we could go ahead and offer you a job."

Mrs. Whitlow pointed to a man in a crisp blue shirt and red tie leaning against a window frame in the office behind her. He held a telephone receiver to his ear. His hair was white along the temple and deep lines marked his face. Emmalee thought he was handsome for an older man. When he laughed at something said on the other end of the line, Emmalee saw a gap between his two front teeth. He winked at her and continued his conversation.

"How's that sound?" Mrs. Whitlow asked.

Emmalee nodded. "Sounds good. Real good. And I'll work hard. Real hard. I promise."

"I have no doubt about that. But aren't you the least bit curious to know what you'll be doing?"

"Yes, ma'am," Emmalee said. She tucked her feet underneath the chair and rubbed her hands together.

"Well, you'll be making collars."

"Making collars," Emmalee said, repeating the words carefully.

"That's right. You'll be a Tennewa collar maker. You know what that is, dear?" Mrs. Whitlow asked.

"No, ma'am."

"Well, you'll be making collars for men's shirts and women's housedresses mostly. Simple as that." Mrs. Whitlow reached for a notebook on top of the counter and opened it to a sketch of a plain yellow dress. "See, here, this is a housedress." She handed the notebook to Emmalee. "Thought about starting you on pockets or lapels, but I think you can manage collars fine, what with your experience and all."

"Yes, ma'am," Emmalee said, studying the dress's wide rounded collar.

"You'll work from seven in the morning until four in the afternoon with thirty minutes for lunch. Take a break whenever you need it. Just get your work done. We pay piece rate. I think collars run about a hundred and fifty a dozen for an eight-hour shift," Mrs. Whitlow said.

"A hundred and fifty dozen." Emmalee's eyes popped.

"Of course, you'll never make less than minimum wage, and that's running right at two dollars an hour."

"A hundred and fifty dozen," Emmalee said again.

"Sounds like a lot, don't it. It's really not bad," Mrs. Whitlow said. "Some women nearly double their quota, and that means more money for them. Two make more than seven dollars an hour. That'll take some time, though."

"Seven dollars an hour."

"That's right. But all we care about right now is that you do quality work. Mistakes cost money. Mr. Clayton there," Mrs. Whitlow said again, motioning toward the man wearing the stiffly starched shirt, "don't like mistakes. He's a nice man, a family man, got four boys of his own and a lovely wife from a real good family outside of Montgomery. But he don't like careless mistakes." Mrs. Whitlow stepped back behind the counter. "Don't worry, we'll help you along for the first month or so till you get the hang of things."

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'm going to put you next to Leona Lane. She's worked here forever, probably wasn't any older than you when she started out. She don't talk much. But she's real good, and you'll learn a lot just from watching her. Probably the best seamstress we got. But don't go telling Cora Hixson I said that or we'll have another fight to referee." Mrs. Whitlow threw her hands up in the air; her gold charm bracelet jangled as she stressed her point. "Those two are always suspecting one another of hoarding bundles or slipping work beyond the four o'clock bell. But enough of that." She folded her arms in front of her waist. "Don't want to scare you off before you get started."

"No, ma'am."

Mrs. Whitlow reached for a manila folder and fingered a piece of paper inside it. "Here's the application for the work permit. Fill this top part out. Have your daddy sign here and bring it back to me as soon as you can. We like to have everything processed and on file within thirty days of your start date. So we have a bit of time."

"Yes, ma'am," Emmalee said, knowing she would forge Nolan's signature. He could write his name well enough if his hand was steady, but he had been drinking hard for the past two days. Besides, Emmalee had grown accustomed to signing his name and believed she did a better job of it than he did, even on his good days.

Mrs. Whitlow pointed at the clock. "It's only eight. You want to come back tomorrow, or you want to go ahead and get started today?"

"Today. I want to work today."

"I figured as much." Mrs. Whitlow undid the top button of her mint-green sweater. "Just promise to get that permit form signed."

Emmalee nodded. "I promise."

"Well, come on then." Mrs. Whitlow slipped the sweater off her arms and draped it across the counter. "This time of year it starts out cool in the sewing room, but it gets hot quick. There's nearly three hundred machines running nonstop in there, so I can promise you'll never freeze here at Tennewa. I keep telling Mr. Clayton that should be our company motto," she said and pulled on the sewing room door. "So wear something comfortable. And best bring a lunch. A few of us walk down to the drugstore but that gets expensive real fast. Most the seamstresses eat here, outside on the picnic tables on the west side of the building."

She motioned for Emmalee to follow her. "After today, you'll enter and leave through those double doors there at the end of the building. That's where you'll punch your time card. I'll show you where all that's at." Emmalee stepped close behind Mrs. Whitlow, clipping the heel of her pretty black shoe. "Right here are the sleeve setters. Myrtie there has been at Tennewa for nineteen years come Monday week," Mrs. Whitlow said as she nodded to a woman snapping a long thread between her fingers.

Emmalee caught the stares of the other seamstresses. Some slowed their work; a few stopped and rested against the backs of their chairs as they examined the new employee. Emmalee pressed her hands down the thin cotton skirt she bought at the thrift store in the basement of the Methodist church and smoothed her hands across her head. Still her skirt hung wrinkled on her body, and her hair fell messy about her face.

Young men dressed in blue jeans and short-sleeved shirts darted between the rows of seamstresses checking canvas baskets for finished work. In the back of the room, two long tables stood end to end, both covered in layers of pale yellow fabric stacked six inches thick. Three or four men stood around each table positioning patterns for what looked like a dress or maybe a man's extra-large shirt. They lifted the pattern pieces and positioned them again and again, working for the tightest fit.

"Only men set the patterns," Mrs. Whitlow said as she leaned close to Emmalee. "Don't ask me why. Just the way it's always been.
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Reading Group Guide

1. Eudora Welty wrote, “Every story would be another story, and unrecognizable if it took up its characters and plot and happened somewhere else. . .” With this in mind, do you think the Southern Appalachian setting of The Funeral Dress is integral to the telling of its story? And in what ways does Emmalee’s life in the holler and Leona’s life on the mountain affect their attitudes and their relationships, particularly in the face of hardship and loss?

2. Why is it so difficult for Emmalee to leave Nolan and Red Chert Holler, even though her day-to-day existence is difficult and her father’s abuse emotionally and physically painful? How does Nolan’s grim work, assisting the town’s funeral director, affect Emmalee’s outlook toward the living and the dead?

3. Emmalee gives birth to her baby girl on the shirt factory’s floor. A single, teenaged mother, Emmalee feels burdened by her daughter’s care. Only as Cora, Wilma, and Easter embrace Emmalee does she begin to see herself as a mother. How do you imagine attitudes toward teen pregnancy have changed in the past thirty-five years? Do you think TV reality shows highlighting teenaged pregnant moms have affected our attitudes toward teen pregnancy?

4. When Mr. Fulton learns that Emmalee’s baby is his own grandchild, he faces serious moral and ethical decisions. How does Mr. Fulton negotiate his relationship with his wife, son, and Emmalee while also dealing with the scrutiny of a small town?

5. Southern textile mills and factories provided many women a first opportunity to earn money of their own and gain some financial independence. What types of challenges at work and in the community do you think blue-collar working women like Cora, Wilma, and Easter faced? And how do you think these challenges have changed since the mid-1970s?

6. Religion, church, and God mean very different things to Leona and Emmalee. Leona attends Sunday and Wednesday services regularly, but it seems an obligation, whereas Emmalee doesn’t attend church but faithfully makes her crosses for every Cullen resident who dies. What do you imagine the relationship with God and church may mean to someone living in a small town versus a large metropolitan area? And what do you think it would be like to feel alienated from formal, organized religion in such a place?

7. References to birds are made frequently throughout the book. The first mention is “A redbird rapped at the trailer’s far window, but it flitted off before Leona could blow a kiss and wish for something better” (page 25). More than good luck, what do these birds represent in the telling of this story?

8. Many of the characters in The Funeral Dress have dealt with loss of one kind or another: the loss of a child, the loss of a friend, the loss of the way a relationship used to be, the loss of a spouse, the loss of dreams. Do those who are experiencing loss seem connected in some way, even if on the surface their lives are very different?

9. Mr. Clayton and Leona’s adulterous relationship was judged harshly by the other seamstresses at Tennewa. Do you think these women were unfair in their judgments?

10. Leona’s death was sudden and tragic, and no one felt her absence more acutely than Emmalee. Do you think Emmalee became a stronger, more independent woman because of her friend’s death? And in what ways do you think Emmalee’s making of Leona’s burial dress affected her and her relationship with her baby girl?

11. What do you see ahead for Emmalee? Do you think she will be up to the challenges she’ll face while raising Kelly Faye?

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4.5
( 22 )
Rating Distribution

5 Star

(15)

4 Star

(5)

3 Star

(2)

2 Star

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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 22 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted September 8, 2013

    Review

    A memorable story,could not put book down until i finished.I am an avid reader who enjoys stories like this one,will definately read others by this author.If you enjoy Fannie Flagg you will like this book.

    3 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted September 18, 2013

    From the first page, the author drew me in with her character, E

    From the first page, the author drew me in with her character, Emmalee. I empathized with her, rooted with her, until the end. Susan Gregg Gilmore is a masterful writer, and I look forward to reading anything she writes in the future.

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted December 4, 2014

    Sadie

    Hazel from beswitched?

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted December 4, 2014

    Hazel

    She storms in and digs her swordpoint into hades's throat. "HOW DARE YOU COME HERE AFTER ALL YOU DID TO ME"

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted December 3, 2014

    James

    Walks back in looking tired. He sits next to his dad. Has she achieved asylum?

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted December 3, 2014

    Taylor and angel

    The after party will take place at "dracula" thank u all for coming

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted December 3, 2014

    Vlad

    I am locked out of dracula srry i say and vanish

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted December 5, 2014

    Nathan

    Watches the disrespectful ingrets

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted December 3, 2014

    Conrad to Blackmoon

    You taylors dog or what.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted December 3, 2014

    Kore to hades

    Hey!!!!

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted December 3, 2014

    Ally

    Wipes the tear away.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted December 3, 2014

    Hades

    Sighs and says quietly "mel u shouldnt have left. We still need u" . He stays seated and looks at her grave

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted November 13, 2014

    Patty

    Sits in a funeral chair. "What is this for?"

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted October 20, 2014

    What drew me into this book was the cover, it looks like a story

    What drew me into this book was the cover, it looks like a story just waiting to be told.  I loved this book, the historical fiction, the characters and the back drop.  The author did a fabulous job creating the scene so you become immersed in the hollers of Tennessee.  I also enjoyed the community in which the characters were tethered together.  

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted June 21, 2014

    This storyline shows what family is.

    Sometimes the people you least expect are the ones who help you the most. Strong female characters with backstories. Great book.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted March 6, 2014

    Good Book

    Good book for a local girl where the book was written

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted January 3, 2014

    Good Read

    Will continue to read all from this author. Great story.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted November 12, 2013

    I loved Susan Gilmore's first novel "Looking for Salvation

    I loved Susan Gilmore's first novel "Looking for Salvation at the Dairy Queen" which easily passed my simple requirement for a wonderful story:  made me laugh, made me cry, made me make new discoveries.  But his book does that and more!   It is a story I will never forget about those in our society that are too often forgotten.  Can't imagine how the author can top this one but I'll certainly be looking for  her next book  with great anticipation.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted October 20, 2013

    The Funeral Dress

    I loved this book, I didnt want it to end. I will definitely read another book by this author.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted October 19, 2013

    No text was provided for this review.

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