Mundie Moms

Wednesday, March 21, 2018

NOTHING BUT SKY by Amy Trueblood / Read An Excerpt & Enter To WIN! #NothingButSky

I am so thrilled to spotlight one of this year's 2018 Junior Library Guild selection books. Amy Trueblood's NOTHING BUT SKY will be out next week from Flux, and today I've got an excerpt and a giveaway! This book is already receiving a lot of praise. I am really looking forward to reading. Before you read the excerpt and enter the giveaway, here's a little bit about the book:


By: Amy Trueblood
Published by: Flux
To Be Released on: March 27th, 2018
Pre-Order from: Amazon 
Add it to Goodreads 

Grace Lafferty only feels alive when she's dangling 500 feet above ground. As a post-World War I wing walker, Grace is determined to get to the World Aviation Expo, proving her team’s worth against flashier competitors and earning a coveted Hollywood contract.

No one’s ever questioned Grace’s ambition until Henry Patton, a mechanic with plenty of scars from the battlefield, joins her barnstorming team. With each new death-defying trick, Henry pushes Grace to consider her reasons for being a daredevil. Annoyed with Henry’s constant interference, and her growing attraction to him, Grace continues to test the powers of the sky.

After one of her risky maneuvers saves a pilot’s life, a Hollywood studio offers Grace a chance to perform at the Expo. She jumps at the opportunity to secure her future. But when a stunt goes wrong, Grace must decide whether Henry and her life are worth risking for one final trick.


The Rough Hands of Gravity
Lincoln, Nebraska July 9, 1922
65 days until World Aviation Expo
Blue sky, perfect day to fly.
Uncle Warren’s favorite phrase ran through my head as I trudged behind Daniel across the field. His thick wall of a body parted the growing crowd like a sharp wind bent back trees. With a brown fedora clutched between his calloused fingers, he collected our fee. His voice boomed across the acres of wide-open farmland: “Twenty-five cents to watch the best flying circus in all the Midwest!”
He shouldered through the bustling crowd of dapper-dressed men and ladies decked out in their church finery. Silver and copper coins plinked across the wide brim of the hat before sliding down inside the crown. I picked up my pace, trying to keep up with his long strides. The pointed stares and gasps of surprise when people recognized me were all part of the routine now.
When Daniel finally came to a stop at the edge of the old farm road, I peered around his tree-trunk arms and into the hat. Five, maybe six dollars in change. As Sundays went, it wasn’t a bad take for a show where I could fall to my death at any moment.
Once the coins were firmly settled in Daniel’s pockets, the slight clink of change filling the air as we walked, he nodded to the line of spectators gathered near a long row of fence ten feet away.
Their bodies were pressed together in a tight huddle. Their heads tilted towards a cloudless afternoon sky. I should have been down the road waiting at my mark, but I loved the chaos of the growing crowd and their lively shouts.
“Looks like folks are itchin’ for a show, Grace. You sure about this trick? Road looks mighty rough. I count at least five potholes from here.”
He shaded his dark brown eyes from the sun. Worry lines pinched around his mouth as he surveyed the long stretch of dirt that ran alongside Farmer Grant’s property. Nothing but dust, cows, and green Nebraska farmland as far as the eye could see. The air tinged with the familiar scent of manure. The countryside awash in yellow as late-blooming black-eyed susans sprang up in haphazard patches along a mile of battered wood fence.
“It’s fine,” I swatted away his worries like the flies buzzing near my head. “This is the only stretch of property where the roadster can pick up enough speed.” I stood on my toes to pat his wide shoulder in reassurance. “It’s time to dazzle the hometown crowd before we take it to other cities.”
Daniel’s eyes narrowed into that look that warned he was worried, but smart enough not to say any more. “You listen to Nathan and don’t fool around. You know how he can be about these new tricks.”
“I can’t listen to his griping about angles and wind speed for another minute. We’ve been practicing this for six weeks. It’s time to put it to work.”
A few young boys in corduroy knickers and newsboy caps raced past us. Once they reached the fence, they elbowed their way to the front.
“Don’t go gettin’ too big for your britches. None of these folks expect anything but you shuffling across the wings of that plane. You’d do well to remember that.” He turned on his heel, and headed back in the direction of the hangar.
Daniel could choose to be a black cloud on an otherwise sunny day, but I wanted to revel in being back home in Lincoln. Traveling all over Oklahoma and Texas these last weeks had turned tiresome. While our earnings from shows in Stillwater and Amarillo kept our heads above water, it was nice to sleep in my soft bed rather than roll around on hard-packed ground with nothing but a raggedy, old patchwork quilt for comfort.
With Daniel gone, I skirted around the crowd now scattering onto the road. Children sat atop their father’s shoulders, the late afternoon sun melting the ice cream in their hands. Red-cheeked ladies adjusted wide-brimmed hats and fanned themselves, praying for any kind of breeze.
Stepping over discarded handbills that touted, “The Soaring Eagles: Nebraska’s Greatest Flying Circus,” I found an open path and raced down the dirt, dodging cow patties and those ankle-deep potholes Daniel had spied. When I reached my mark at the end of the fence, I closed my eyes and waited for a familiar buzz to fill the air. A moment later a low rumble shook the ground. I opened my eyes and a scarlet-red biplane soared overhead, its propeller slicing through the wind. It did a quick barrel roll, the body spinning in a circular motion, before it made a wide turn. Seconds later a roadster broke away from the masses and stopped only inches from where I stood.
“Well, what are you waiting for, Grace? We’re burning daylight here.” Nathan, our team’s second in command, frantically waved me forward.
I dashed toward the car, pulling my goggles over my eyes. With the Model T’s top down, the wind would snarl my dark curls in seconds.
Once I settled in the seat, Nathan put the car in gear and sped forward. “This’ll be tricky with the wind picking up.” He fought to control the car as we raced down the bumpy road. “If you can’t reach the ladder on the first pass, don’t risk it. I can always bring you around again. When it gets close, you grab that bottom rung with both hands. No funny business, you hear. And if you see any of Rowland’s planes, stay put. This is not the time for a mid-air dogfight.”
Leave it to him to ruin the moment with one little name.
He glanced over his shoulder, his warning look telling me I better listen. We both knew what was at stake, but unless I promised to be smart, Nathan wouldn’t steer the car toward our mark.
“Got it.” I pointed to a red scarf tied to the fence a hundred feet away. “Now focus on why we’re here. We got money to earn.”
The swelling crowd surged toward us to get a closer look. We sped down the road and the weathered wooden fence flew by in a blur. Dairy cows skittered back across the field, spooked by the grinding engine of the old roadster.
“Starting the count,” Nathan called.
I stood and pressed my boots against the seat. My feet shifted and rotting, yellow upholstery poked out in several spots. Nathan’s arm popped in the air, his black hair flying in the wind. A rooster-tail of dust swirled behind us. Anticipation burned in my chest as his hand splayed open, and his fingers counted down from five.
The roar of the plane’s prop echoed behind me as it approached. A loud whoosh rattled in my ears. My body shook with the force of the wind. There was no time to think. No time to be afraid. The rope ladder appeared above my head. I waited a beat and anticipated the signal. Nathan’s last finger disappeared, and I jumped as the car hit a pothole. Momentum slammed me forward. I grasped the bottom rung with one hand before rocketing into the air. With a collective gasp, the crowd raced toward the road.
Dangling ten feet above the car, I swung about like a marionette with one snapped string. The rope spun in a circle, doing its best to buck me off.
“Let go!” Nathan’s wide eyes darted between me and the plane dragging me through the sky. My slick fingers slid down the rung. The ground below was a churning cloud of dust, reminding me of tornados that swept across the plains. Landing on the hard soil would surely break a leg and most likely both my arms. Not a pretty sight for my hometown crowd.


A devotee of reading and writing from a very young age, Amy Trueblood grew up surrounded by books. As the youngest of five children, she spent most of her time trying to find a quiet place to curl up with her favorite stories. After stints working in entertainment and advertising, she began writing her first manuscript and never looked back. 

Her debut novel, NOTHING BUT SKY is a Spring 2018 Junior Library Guild selection and will be published March 27, 2018 by Flux. 

For more on Amy, check out her website, or follow her on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, or Tumblr.


Thank you to Amy and Flux, we have 3 copies of Nothing But Sky to giveaway to  three lucky readers. Open to US mailing addresses. Please read the terms & conditions in the giveaway before entering. 

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  1. This exciting book is on my TBR and I can't wait to read it.

  2. I do like this cover :D And the book sounds pretty good too. Thank you for sharing about it lovely. <3