Читать книгу Killer Harvest - Tanya Stowe - Страница 9

Dear Reader,

I was fortunate enough to grow up in Southern California in what I considered one of its golden ages...the ’60s and ’70s. The state has probably had many “golden ages” but for me those years were especially great. It was the time of Jan and Dean, the Beach Boys, the Monkees, Walt Disney and a young Kurt Russell—he went to a nearby high school and I dreamed of meeting him at every football game. I never did, of course. I think he was into baseball.

We even had a local television broadcast of a beach party hosted by a radio DJ named the Reale Don Steele and a blond, teenaged bikini beauty named Kam Nelson. I grew up just twenty minutes away, never missed the show and dreamed about joining that party. It was an exciting time and I was right in the middle of the whirlwind.

Even though I lived less than a mile from the beach, every other weekend during the summer months we traveled to California’s Central Valley where we water-skied behind flat-bottom boats with engines that roared up and down the King’s River. I absolutely loved skimming across the glass-smooth water at a high speed. At night we sat on the sandy banks and looked up at a million stars. The cottonwood branches brushed the river’s edge and we inhaled the scent of ripe fruit from the orchards and vineyards around us. My life felt like one grand adventure!

But all things change, including me. I grew up, married and moved away, but those golden times stayed with me. Twenty years later when my daughter moved to the Central Valley, I returned. I found the warm summer nights, the corner fruit stands, the orchards and the vineyards just as I had left them. For a short while, I felt sixteen again, and I knew some day I’d write about the valley.

I added a few terrorists and killers, but I hope reading this book gives you the same sweet escape!

Tanya