Red Sky
Over Hawaii: A Novel
Sara
Ackerman
On Sale Date: June 9, 2020
9780778309673, 0778309673
Trade Paperback
$17.99 USD, $22.99 CAD
Fiction / Historical / World War II
352 pages
MIRA Books
ABOUT
THE BOOK:
For fans of Chanel Cleeton and Beatriz Williams,
RED SKY OVER HAWAII is historical women's fiction set in the islands during
WWII. It's the story of a woman who has to put her safety and her heart on the
line when she becomes the unexpected guardian of a misfit group and decides to
hide with them in a secret home in the forest on Kilauea Volcano.
The attack on Pearl Harbor changes everything for
Lana Hitchcock. Arriving home on the Big Island too late to reconcile with her
estranged father, all she can do is untangle the clues of his legacy, which
lead to a secret property in the forest on Kilauea Volcano. America has been
drawn into WWII, and amid rumors of impending invasion, the army places the
islands under martial law. When they start taking away neighbors as possible
sympathizers, Lana finds herself suddenly guardian to two girls, as well as
accomplice to an old family friend who is Japanese, along with his son. In a
heartbeat, she makes the decision to go into hiding with them all.
The hideaway house is not what Lana expected,
revealing its secrets slowly, and things become even more complicated by the
interest of Major Grant Bailey, a soldier from the nearby internment camp. Lana
is drawn to him, too, but needs to protect her little group. With a little help
from the magic on the volcano, Lana finds she can open her bruised heart to the
children--and maybe to Grant.
A lush and evocative novel about doing what is
right against the odds, following your heart, and what makes a family.
BUY LINKS:
THE
ROAD
December
8, 1941
WITH EVERY MILE CLOSER TO VOLCANO, THE
FOG thickened, until they were driving through a forest of white gauze with the
occasional branch showing through. Lana considered turning the truck around no
less than forty-six times. Going back to Hilo would have been the prudent thing
to do, but this was not a time for prudence. Of that she was sure. She slowed
the Chevy to a crawl and checked the rearview mirror. The cage with the geese
was now invisible, and she could barely make out the dog’s big black spots.
Maybe
the fog would be to their advantage.
“I don’t like it here at all,” said Coco, who was smashed up next to
Lana, scrawny arms folded in protest. The child had to almost yell to be heard
above the chug of the motor.
Lana
grabbed a blanket from the floor. “Put this over you. It should help.”
Coco
shook her head. “I’m not cold. I want to go home. Can you please take us back?”
Goose
bumps had formed up and down her limbs, but she was so stubborn that she had
refused to put on a jacket. True, Hilo was insufferably hot, but where they
were headed—fourthousand feet up the mountain—the air was cold and damp and
flimsy.
It
had been over ten years since Lana had set foot at Kı¯lauea. Never would she
have guessed to be returning under these circumstances.
Marie
chimed in. “We can’t go back now, sis. And anyway, there’s no one to go back to
at the moment.”
Poor
Coco trembled. Lana wished she could hug the girl and tell her everything was
going to be okay. But that would be a lie. Things were liable to get a whole
lot worse before they got any better.
“Sorry,
honey. I wish things were different, but right now you two are my priority.
Once we get to the house, we can make a plan,” Lana said.
“But
you don’t even know where it is,” Coco whined.
“I
have a good idea.”
More
like a vague notion.
“What if we don’t find it by dark? Are they going to shoot us?” Coco
said.
Marie put her arm around Coco and pulled
her in. “Turn off that little overactive imagination of yours. No one is going
to shoot us,” she said, but threw a questioning glance Lana’s way.
“We’ll be
fine,” Lana said, wishing she believed that.
The girls
were not the real problem here. Of greater concern was what they had hidden in
the back of the truck. Curfew was six o’clock, but people had been ordered to
stay off the roads unless their travel was essential to the war. Lana hadn’t
told the girls that. Driving up here was a huge risk, but she had invented a
story she hoped and prayed would let them get through if anyone stopped them.
The thought of a checkpoint caused her palms to break out in sweat, despite the
icy air blowing in through the cracks in the floorboard.
On a good
day, the road from Hilo to Volcano would take about an hour and a half. Today
was not a good day. Every so often they hit a rut the size of a whiskey barrel
that bounced her head straight into the roof. The continuous drizzle of the
rain forest had undermined all attempts at smooth roads here. At times the ride
was reminiscent of the plane ride from Honolulu. Exactly two days ago, but felt
more like a lifetime.
Lana’s main
worry was what they would encounter once in the vicinity of the national park
entrance. With the Kı¯lauea military camp nearby, there were bound to be
soldiers and roadblocks in the area. She had so many questions for her father
and felt a mixed ache of sadness and resentment that he was not here to answer
them. How were you so sure the Japanese were coming? Why the volcano, of all
places? How are we going to survive up here? Why didn’t you call me sooner?
Coco seemed
to settle down, leaning her nut-brown ringlets against her sister’s shoulder
and closing her eyes. There was something comforting in the roar of the engine
and the jostle of the truck. With the whiteout it was hard to tell where they
were, but by all estimates they should be arriving soon.
Lana was
dreaming of a cup of hot coffee when Coco sat upright and said, “I have to go
tinkle.”
“Tinkle?”
Lana asked.
Marie said,
“She means she has to go to the bathroom.”
They drove until
they found a grassy shoulder, and Lana pulled the truck aside, though they
could have stopped in the middle of the road. They had met only one other
vehicle the whole way, a police car that fortunately had passed by.
The rain had
let up, and they all climbed out. It was like walking through a cloud, and the
air smelled metallic and faintly lemony from the eucalyptus that lined the
road. Lana went to check on Sailor. The dog stood up and whined, yanking on the
rope around her neck, straining to be pet. Poorthing was drenched and shaking.
Lana had wanted to leave her behind with a neighbor, but Coco had put up such a
fuss, throwing herself onto her bed and wailing and punching the pillow, that
Lana relented. Caring for the girls would be hard enough, but a
hundred-and-twenty-pound dog?
“Just a
bathroom stop. Is everyone okay back here?” she asked in a hushed voice. Two
low grunts came from under the tarp. “We should be there soon. Remember, be
still and don’t make a sound if we stop again.”
As if on cue,
one of the hidden passengers started a coughing fit, shaking the whole tarp.
She wondered how wise it was to subject him to this long and chilly ride, and
if it might be the death of him. But the alternative was worse.
“Deep
breaths…you can do it,” Lana said.
Coco showed
up and hopped onto the back tire. “I think we should put Sailor inside with us.
She looks miserable.”
“Whose lap do
you propose she sits on?” Lana said.
Sailor was as
tall as a small horse, but half as wide.
“I can sit in
the back of the truck and she can come up here, then,” Coco said in all
seriousness.
“Not in those
clothes you won’t. We don’t need you catching pneumonia on us.”
They started
off again, and ten seconds down the road, Sailor started howling at the top of
her lungs. Lana felt herself on the verge of unraveling. The last thing they
needed was one extra ounce of attention. The whole idea of coming up here was
preposterous when she thought about it. At the time it had seemed like a good
idea, but now she wondered at her sanity.
“What is wrong
with that dog?” Lana said, annoyed.
Coco turned
around, and Lana felt her hot breath against her arm. In the smallest of
voices, she said, “Sailor is scared.”
Lana felt her
heart crack. “Oh, honey, we’re all a bit scared.
It’s
perfectly normal under the circumstances. But I promise you this—I will do
everything in my power to keep you out of harm’s way.”
“But you
hardly know us,” Coco said.
“My father
knew you, and you knew him, right?” Lana said. “And remember, if anyone asks,
we tell them our story.”
They had
rehearsed it many times already, but with kids one could never be sure. Not
that Lana had much experience with kids. With none of her own and no nieces or
nephews in the islands, she felt the lack palpably, smack in the center of her
chest. There had been a time when she saw children in her future, but that
dream had come and gone and left her sitting on the curb with a jarful of
tears.
Her mind
immediately went to Buck. Strange how your future with a person could veer so
far off course from how you’d originally pictured it. How the one person you
swore you would have and hold could end up wreaking havoc on your heart
instead. She blinked the thought away.
As they
neared Volcano, the fog remained like a curtain, but the air around them brightened.
Lana knew from all her time up here as a young girl that the trees got smaller
as the elevation rose, and the terrain changed from towering eucalyptus and
fields of yellow-and-white ginger to a more cindery terrain covered with
red-blossomed ‘ohi‘a trees, and prehistoriclookingha¯pu’u ferns and the
crawling uluhe. At one time in her life, this had been one of her happiest
places. Coco reached for the letter on the dashboard and began reading it for
the fourth time. “Coco Hitchcock. It sounds funny.” The paper was
already getting worn.
Marie swiped
it out of her hands. “You’re going to ruin that. Give it to me.”
Where Coco
was whip thin and dark and spirited—a nice way of putting it—Marie was blonde
and full-bodied andsweet as coconut taffy. But Lana could tell even Marie’s
patience was wearing thin.
“Mrs.
Hitchcock said we need to memorize our new names or we’ll be shot.”
Lana said as
calmly as she could, “I never said anything of the sort. And, Coco, you have to
get used to calling me Aunt Lana for now. Both of you do.”
“And stop
talking about getting shot,” Marie added, rolling her eyes.
If they could
all just hold it together a little bit longer.
There was
sweat pooling between her breasts and behind her kneecaps. Lying was not her
strong suit, and she was hoping that, by some strange miracle, they could sail
on through without anyone stopping them. She rolled her window down a couple of
inches for a burst of fresh air. “We’re just about here. So if we get stopped,
let me do the talking. Speak only if someone asks you a direct question, okay?”
Neither girl
said anything; they both just nodded. Lana could almost see the fear condensing
on the windshield. And pretty soon little Coco started sniffling. Lana would
have said something to comfort her, but her mind was void of words. Next the
sniffles turned into heaving sobs big enough to break the poor girl in half.
Marie rubbed her hand up and down Coco’s back in a warm, smooth circle.
“You can cry
when we get there, but no tears now,” she said.
Tears and
snot were smeared across Coco’s face in one big shiny layer. “But they might
kill Mama and Papa.” Her face was pinched and twisted into such anguish that
Lana had to fight back a sob of her own.
Excerpted from Red
Sky Over Hawaii by Sara Ackerman, Copyright ©2020 by Sara Sckerman. Published by MIRA Books.
ABOUT
THE AUTHOR:
Sara
Ackerman is the USA
Today bestselling author of The Lieutenant's Nurse and Island of Sweet Pies
and Soldiers. Born and raised in Hawaii, she studied journalism and earned
graduate degrees in psychology and Chinese medicine. She blames Hawaii for her addiction
to writing, and sees no end to its untapped stories. When she's not writing or
teaching, you'll find her in the mountains or in the ocean. She currently lives
on the Big Island with her boyfriend and a houseful of bossy animals. Find out
more about Sara and her books at www.ackermanbooks.com and follow her on
Instagram @saraackermanbooks and on FB @ackermanbooks.
SOCIAL
LINKS:
Facebook: @ackermanbooks
Twitter: @AckermanBooks
Instagram: @saraackermanbooks
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