The Peppermint Tree
by
Book Cover & Preview Text
I wanted to run and hide, but I couldn’t seem to move. Something eerie held me. Even the breeze seemed to whisper like voices of those who had carved their initials in the maple tree’s wide bark. I dozed for an hour, jumping at every little sound, then there was a clicking at my window. I sat up in bed, perspiration pouring off me like raindrops in a downpour. They’re coming for me too!
Formats
Book Details
About the Book
My story, The Peppermint Tree, really developed at an early age. My aunt owned a large colonial house about ten feet from the beach. There were lots of places to play hide and seek. I called myself Annie and my playmate next door I dubbed Roopie. Of course my beloved aunt was Aunt Cissy. The house had a widow’s walk on the roof. From there we saw many imaginary tall ships sailing on to rainbow’s end, with a fog shrouded lighthouse and a mysterious cove. I cried when the house was destroyed by the hurricane of 1938. Today I can’t recognize it.
About the Author
Most of the time I write for pleasure. In the beginning, my stories were for my younger brothers and sisters, then later for my daughter, and finally for my grandchildren. I also take pride in being a volunteer at The Matthew Senior Center on Main Street, in Pawtucket, R.I. I sing, dance and belong to the drama club. We put on shows for the elderly and first and second grade children. I have been married to Norman Cartwright for fifty-six years. We have one daughter, two grandchildren, and four great-grandchildren. People ask me what my secret is. I say one argument a day, but never go to bed mad. I am a kick boxer. It’s a great sport.