Maryann Austin

Well, here it is!  The long-awaited second novel!  I breathe a sigh of relief and hope that you enjoy this story.  It is the tale of Della Cotton.  She lives in Boone, North Carolina when war erupts in our young country.  Zebediah, her older brother, has designs on joining the Confederate Army.  The bossy girl tries to dissuade him, sure that he will die.   Meantime, a boy from town has designs on Della.  Zebediah watches his sister and her lover in the woods. He doesn't like what he sees, and he ends up dead on the forest floor.  Devastated, Della makes a snap decision and disappears.  Her army-bound ex-lover is long gone, and she is on his trail. The story is a chronicle of Della's journey through the Shenandoah Valley in 1863.  In her quest for revenge, she discovers more injustices.  She experiences the taste of killing.  Yet, there is redemption and, finally, love in an unlikely place. Enjoy when you read it!  I had fun writing it! Available in May

       From a wooded area north of town, a man watched as Della dragged a body through the field.  She had pictured herself throwing him over her shoulder, but reality would not allow it.  Though thin, indeed bony with the starvation of the war, he was too heavy for her.  For she, too, was malnourished and weaker than she had been when she first left Boone.  But she was sure, in healthier times, she could have easily carried him. The sound of gunfire can travel long distances.  But it grew fainter and fainter still while Della took John’s broken body southward through the valley.  She fought discouragement.  But the exhaustion was harder to overcome.  Seeking to lighten her load, she laid down her pack and her rifle.  Surely there would be some soldier who would put it to good use.  And she looked forward to the moment when she could discard every last thing that had made her a soldier. When she was far enough from her weapon, a voice startled her.  “Are you in need of help?” S

Some people have turned expectations into a dirty word.  I remember my first husband telling me that he did not want to get me a birthday gift because I expected it.   Absurd  I thought.  But I tried the concept anyway.  And I still got nothing.  To avoid the pain of never receiving, I learned to abandon my expectations all together.  Before I knew it, I came to expect nothing.  And my life still sucked.  After a few years of existing this way, I had a revelation.  Things had become so bad.  There was a lot of praying going on.  God, give me a man I can follow.  God, give me a man who sees me as a blessing, and not a curse.   I learned to come boldly and expectantly for my needs and desires.  And one day, it happened.  Just like that.  My request was fulfilled.  Would it never have happened had I not expected it?  I don’t know.  What I do know is that it did not happen until I asked for it and expected it.  So to those spreading the notion that expectations are somehow

It dawned on me today that Choking Butterflies is about more than moral decay.  There is another theme, one that I mention in passing in the book.  Joy is dismissed by her older siblings who place little value on family, and in fact recoil from it.  Joy is saddened by this fact, but eventually lets go and moves on to create a close and loving marriage.  Her hopes for her dream family are dashed again when her child turns out to be like her siblings.  There are, after all, very important things to tend to in life.  And Jane cares little about her mother or any other blood relative. My own sadness on the subject leaks out in the pages.  You just can’t want or need too much from people these days.  Not even family.  To most, family means no more than sharing a blood line, like some wild animals who, as adults, don‘t recognize the one they suckled next to.  There is no need to spend time, to give aide, to get to know one’s children.  Unless a person has something amazing to offer, t