Plucking One String Now Available

Plucking One String is now available at Barnes and Noble (Nook), Amazon (Kindle) and Smashwords. Links and description/details below the cut.

Thanks for reading!

Barnes and Noble: Lutheran Ladies Circle: Plucking Ones String in epub for $2.99 (Nook and others with epub-friendly e-readers)

Amazon: Plucking One String on Amazon Kindle for $2.99 (If you are an international reader who uses one of the other international Amazon book stores, please check that store separately. It may take a day or two for availability there. Or it may already be available.)

Smashwords Plucking One String in all other formats and for international readers who don’t use one of the international Amazons. $2.99

Kobo: Now available. Other retailers such as Diesel, Apple, and Sony coming soon. (They take longer to get into distribution. However, if you don’t shop at B&N or Amazon, Smashwords allows you to have whatever format you need.)

Details:

This is a novel of approx. 58,000 words. In a standard book layout it is around 220 pages.Reading time: 3-6 hours depending on your reading speed.

Description:

2010, Stillwater, Oklahoma

Vera Henley is one of those worn-to-crankiness women known as “gap-fillers.” She lands on a project with arms and rules flying and gets it done. And while every organization needs a Vera, the question is—how to get rid of her irritating ways?

Important Author’s Note:

Plucking One String is the beginning of the Lutheran Ladies’ Circle of Stories, not the end. The story explores changes in one strong-willed, stubbornly righteous woman;  the overall series uncovers layers of changes invading all the women’s lives in their most intimate, vulnerable situations.  Just a gentle disclaimer so no one goes in with false expectations that everything will come out smarmy and tied up with a pink bow after 200 pages, but you’ll laugh and find characters you’d like to go to coffee with.

About the Series:

Plucking One String is the first story in Kris Knorr’s Lutheran Ladies Series. Each book has its own gut-wrenching problems and  cantankerous people which wrapped in humor and direction by the end.  Each tale unravels the larger background story slowly unfolding through the series—just like life—the change never stops.

And here is an excerpt:

Christmas Eve

As actors entered the church for the Christmas Eve service, they found a spiffy-dressed lady touching up the decorations and directing traffic. “Angels downstairs, Holy family in the sacristy.” She pointed.

“I don’t wanna wear these.” Johnny yanked at his cardboard wings.

“Maybe you’ll find some you like better downstairs.” The woman  tugged the back of her jacket, in a futile attempt to get it to cover her the back of her waist band as she bent over to speak to the boy; then to his mother she added, “There’re extras of everything down there. You can make a halo.”

“I’m not wearing a halo.” Johnny puckered his face.

It appeared as though Bernie’s Been-Around, Come-Around Thrift Store had exploded in the Fellowship Hall. Adults dug under piles of costumes. Kids jiggled in various states of animal metamorphoses. Shepherds tripped and fell over each other in their parents’ long robes.

A Wiseman, who was actually a woman, frantically tossed clothes, looking for her box of myrrh. “Did one of you cows run off with it? It’s not funny. I spent all afternoon gluing on sequins.”

While adults tied towels over Shepherds’ heads, the sheep poked each other with staffs and made snorting sounds.

Kay, in a corner surrounded by little angels, fixed a broken cardboard wing. She wore red-and-white-striped stockings, a white ballerina tutu, real feathered wings, and a flashing halo.

“I didn’t know angels had halos like that.” One of the ladies grinnedas she passed, herding a tyke who had been trying on camel humps.

“Look. Look what it does.” Kay pushed a tiny button on her headpiece. It started to pulse and change colors. “It has five patterns. You covet it, don’t you?”

“Well, don’t turn it on around Vera; she’s in a foul mood. She’s been snapping at everyone all week.”

A loud crash brought adults from all corners of the room. The angels and shepherds were brandishing canes at the sheep and camels, who balanced on their hands and kicked with both legs.

“Gather those angels over here,” Kay said to her teen age son.

“Come on, rug rats.” Marcus began pushing them toward the corner.

“Heaven help us. What happened to this room?” Vera surveyed the chaos from the stairway. Her gaze stuck on the blinking lights. “And I don’t believe that flashing halo is appropriate. It’s distracting.”

“I didn’t wear the whole Victoria Secret costume, now that would be distracting,” Kay said. “Just the wings.”

“The halo.” Vera pointed. “You will need to turn that off.”

Two angels were shimmying their shoulders back and forth, beating their wings into each other.

“Marcus, take the angels for a hike,” Kay said.

“Mom, I’m a shepherd, not an angel herder. I’m all dressed. I’m minding my own business. Why am I being punished?”

“Take them on a hike, sweetie. Take some other shepherds with you. Wear off a little of this energy.” She pointed to the wiggling, bouncing, bumping bodies in front of her.

“Okay! Come on, rug rats.”

“Stop calling them rug rats,” Vera commanded.

“Come on, midgets. Follow me,” he said as he took off.

Kay gave Vera a squinty look. “Why don’t you go somewhere private, and yell at God for a while, Vera.”

“What?”

“Your tail’s in a twist about something. Now you’re taking it out on the kids. Go yell at God about it.”

“I have never yelled at God.”

“Then your God is too small.”

“Kay, you open your mouth and utter all sorts of obscenities. Could you just be helpful for once? I came down here looking for my special pen.” Vera’s clipped words accompanied the invisible darts shooting from her eyes. The noise in the room had dropped significantly.

“Then why don’t you ask God where you pen is?” Kay said quietly.

Vera looked at her. There was no spite or malice in Kay’s voice; it sounded like merely a suggestion.

“I would never presume to bother God about a pen.”

“Then your God is too small,” Kay repeated. Their eyes locked. The room grew quiet. Kay’s face showed no emotion. Vera’s lips pulled into a tight line, her eyes narrowed.

“What did you say to me?”

“Kay, not now.” One of the ladies hurried toward them, carrying sheep ears on a headband. “Vera, I’ll help you look.” Kay snapped her hand upward, five fingers splayed into a barrier sign.

“In just a few minutes we’re going to tell everyone, in our own inept words, about God coming as a tiny little baby to provide a way we can get home again. God, who orchestrated this plan, this universe, and worlds we don’t even know about yet, knows where your pen is. Ask Him. This is the God who loves you enough to notice if you lose a hair out of your head. He voluntarily died for you. You can’t give Him too much to deal with.”

Vera’s lips pursed. Her jaws clenched. Everyone was silent, watching. Even the sheep had stopped butting each other.


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