Phyllis Marie

I have enjoyed the era of the book, Phyllis Marie, the extraordinary characters, and the eloquently written English.

What a great book to read to take us away from the present.  A book can only do that to a person if it is very well written.  It shows the true meaning of a family: true love and commitment to a marriage for better or worse.  These characters show remarkable resilience in dealing with difficult situations.

The book is categorized as fiction, but the way it is written, most of it seemed true.  It is a book that will stay on my bookshelf and will bring memories of kind families with good values with whom I have only connected through the book.

In my opinion, this story will make a good movie because it covers several areas: an era, way of life, faith, challenges, family values, war, resilience, happiness, and more.

I am glad we have met, talked, and that I left the store carrying with me Phyllis Marie. 

Best regards,

Aleen B., CA

Untarnished Reputation

A few moments ago, I finished reading your wonderful Untarnished Reputation historical novel to my mom.   We both enjoyed it thoroughly.  Through each horse race, tracking the horse thieves and lattice weaving of Bat Masterson's assignment -- we were wide-eyed !!  It is so much fun reading aloud - I've never done that for my mom before - but she was so curious about your book. This was a very special week - my mom - Gwen - had her 89th birthday on August 28th and the reading all week of your book made it splendid, indeed.  Most, bully! Thank you, Terry for this marvelous gift. Now I must read Phyllis Marie for my mom -- she has become quite your fan.  Truly, your writing is brilliant and your imagination - truly creative.  Your storytelling is captivating and wondrous.

Rebecca Rutkowski

I dreamt I went to Hidden Valley again and sat in the sunlit orchestra of my youth in the wood-and-glass library of the York School. The doctor, the benign dictator who forever shaped my musical sensibilities rehearsed the Brahms Serenade in A Major, Op. 16 and although I could play the piece, I could not read the part on the music stand. My oboe stood on its instrument stand in front of me when I wasn't playing, and the reed was wrapped with violet thread. I had only a vague sense of the orchestra that surrounded me, strings, without violins in front of me, flutes to my right, clarinets and bassoons behind me, and horns in the distance somewhere. We were all golden children, sort of a classical music version of Woodstock, but without the rock'n'roll or the mud and the chaos.