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PREMIER BOOK AWARDS
2008 General Fiction award winner
What some readers say about Settling:
Beautiful
and beautifully written story!!!
...Sounds proverbial, almost formulaic?
Hang onto your seats, for this beautiful story evolves realistically, potently and meaningfully into an unforgettable love
story worth the wait of every page to that point. In a culture rife with trite endings, how refreshing to meet a talented
author who knows how to craft a special story that is poignant without being sickening, intelligent without imitation or condescension
and deeply spiritual without being religious!
Ruth and Alex could be any woman or man in
America,
even if it's just a part or more. Getting to know Ruth and enjoying the poetry in this novel are experiences that soon begin
to feel like a gift we want to share and experience ourselves.
Settling starts slowly but winds
up packing an unforgettable zap mid-way to the very last page!
Very nicely done, Ms. Cannon!
Reviewed
by Viviane Crystal on August 28, 2007
CRYSTAL REVIEWS
www.crystalreviews.com
e-mail to: literarymuse@hotmail.com
...Settling is a wonderful novel; reading about how Ruth successfully resolves the problems
she encounters in her life was very uplifting. I'm looking for more novels from Mrs. Cannon!
Rebecca Henderson, ALLBOOKS REVIEWS
...Mrs.
Cannon shows us a true picture of love in today's world...This is a beautifully written story. I could not wait to find
out how it ended.
Krista Braaten, COFFEE TIME BOOKS
Susan Kelly, author of How Close We Come, Even Now,The
Last of Something and Now We Know says: "Employing both nuance and detail, Mrs. Cannon authentically
portrays the struggles of a marriage--romance, adultery, violence, and forgiveness--between two vastly different people, and
in so doing treats her topic and her characters with realism and respect."
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Joyce
C. Ware, author of romances, mysteries, non-fiction: |
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"Settling is a story of love, betrayal, tragedy and the search for reconciliation experienced by fully realized characters in
settings described so vividly--the Maine seacoast; Greenwich Village; an old Connecticut farmhouse--the reader can see, smell
and even hear them...Blessedly
free from exhausting sexual acrobatics and techno/crypto complications, Settling is the real thing: a beautifully
written quiet read best enjoyed during a long winter evening with a cup or two of tea by your side."
Alice
Loebel, author: "Well written...a page turner."
Anne Buttrick, reader:
"Well, this was my long
awaited storm--I have been anticipating a good one--the kind to
settle down with a cuddling dog and finally open the pages of "Settling". I LOVED IT!...I loved the
writing, the story, the characters, all the wonderful descriptions--all your marvelous attention to detail. The dialogue
was so true to the characters and reinforced their personalities just beautifully.
"You truly made Ruth
and all the characters come alive--I kept thinking, Oh, yes, I know exactly how she (or he) feels--I've felt that way,
too! I got to know Ruth so very well--reading the last page was like saying good-bye to a well loved friend--one I was
so sure to miss--I was truly sorry to come to the end."
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The young couple played hard, running each other
mercilessly from one side to the other. All at once the young man hit a shot that bounced so high in front of his opponent
that she tried a killing lob. She looked high, golden hair flowing, and smashed down on the ball. It made a false bounce against something on the ground, struck the brick wall next to it, and ricocheted
over the man's head, over the fence, and into the street.Without thinking, Ruth chased it and retrieved it from the opposite
gutter. When she turned back toward the players with it in her hand, both were waiting, and the fat proprietor of the courts
was holding the gate open. She trotted over, extending the ball toward the dark young man, who was holding his racquet out
to take it. Ruth’s breath caught, and she stepped back when she saw his
face. It was the one she had seen long ago in Tony’s bar.
“Thanks very much.”
“You’re welcome,” Ruth managed to get out.
His eyes held hers. Though he reached his racquet out for her to drop the ball on the strings, she stood motionless, eyes
wide.
“Do I know you?”
"Oh—no!” She felt herself grow pale. “No,
I don’t think so. Oh, I’m sorry.” She dropped the ball hastily
onto the racquet, as if it were hot, and backed up, quivering.
The young man took the ball. “Do you play?”
Still mesmerized by his face, her voice sounding distant inside her head, she replied, “Yes, a
little.”
“Why don’t you join us some Sunday? Do you live around
here?”
“A few blocks away. But I’m not good enough to play with you. I could see that.”
“I’ll bet you are.” He smiled. Ruth’s eyes wavered, dazzled by the beauty of his face.
The blonde girl was calling from the other side of the net. He answered, “Coming, Sandy.” With a wave to Ruth, he turned back to his game.
She turned away, numb. The remembered image in the smoky twilight of Tony’s
superimposed itself on the image she had just seen so closely, tanned and shiny with sweat, moist curls breaking the perfect
hairline. She walked along the pavement, oblivious of other pedestrians, of the sunlight and shade, the yellowing leaves and
the church bells, even of an organ-grinder with his audience of tots, of everything she had noticed with such pleasure just
a few minutes before. She was disoriented, displaced from all objects and familiar impressions. A furious blast from an automobile
horn and a shriek of tires brought her to her senses. She found herself with one foot on the curb and the other in the gutter.
The driver was leaning out his window and making an obscene gesture as he rolled
across the intersection. She had nearly walked in front of him.
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