Hey Readers!
This week I’ve got some BONUS material for you!
Please join me in welcoming author Concetta Falcone-Codding in this week’s Author Spotlight at A Busy Lady. I recently came across Concetta’s powerful memoir, The Lonely Nest, at an indie bookstore. Upon purchasing, I read it in two days—I just couldn’t put it down!
Concetta’s memoir is POWERFUL. It follows Concetta throughout her life during the years of 1956-2009 as she unearths deeply hidden family secrets buried under the facade of an idyllic Connecticut town. This brave, poignant narrative will stay with you long after reading.
I was so touched by Concetta’s story; I reached out to her immediately on social media to see if she would be a guest on A Busy Lady. Imagine my surprise when I learned we both live in the same town!
Without further ado, please find Concetta’s guest post below. She’s shared both an excerpt from The Lonely Nest, in addition to further information about her memoir, including where you can buy a copy yourself. (Trust me, you don’t want to miss this one!)
(132 reviews 4.8 out of 5) (Goodreads 4.5 out of 5) “The line between watching an abuser and becoming an abuser is translucently thin, weaved as intricately as a spider’s web.” The Lonely Nest
Excerpt from "The Lonely Nest," Chapter 10
The Lost Souls of Kettle
1960's New York. Connie Mary and her cousin Waynie have an adventure when the adults are gone.
(Photograph of cousin Waynie 1960's)
"With only a few days left of vacation, my mother wants to visit the World’s Fair. It’s Saturday morning and the coffee is brewing while the adults are bickering in the kitchen. Aunt Rosalie has the most persistent voice of all and always gets her way. “We must take my sister and her hubby to see the World’s Fair. Have you heard about the World’s Fair Honey?” and turns to her husband Joe. “Joe, show my sister a picture of the Unisphere.”
Uncle Joe is too much in love with his wife not to do everything she asks, and patiently sifts through The New York Times. “Look Honey, here’s a picture. It says the Unisphere is two stories high and made of stainless steel. It represents man’s achievement on a shrinking globe in an expanding universe.”
“Albert, I want to go! Do you want to go?” My mother looked at my father with hopeful eyes. Unfortunately, if looks could kill my mother would be dead.
“Rose, you know I want to go. Can’t you remember anything I said? I’m the one who told you about the fair in the first place! Jesus Christ Rose, if you had a brain you’d be dangerous.”
“Well, you both came at the right time,” says my uncle, politely ignoring my father’s crude remarks. “The World’s Fair runs from April to October, $2.50 for adults and one dollar for children. You can’t beat those prices, cheaper than going to the local moviehouse. But you better wear walking shoes, the fair is over two miles long.” That night I happily drift to sleep thinking I am going to the World’s Fair tomorrow. In the other twin bed, my sister is listening to the radio. She is not excited about the fair, because no one has asked her to go.
The next day I wake up hearing my favorite cartoon show Quick Draw McGraw, blaring downstairs. I look at the clock and panic. “Oh no—it’s 8:30! I’m late for the fair! Still in my pajamas, I slide down the banister and into the parlor. I am delighted to find my cousin Waynie Ormston sitting in front of the television chugging soda out of the bottle. I tiptoe and give him a surprise tap on the shoulder. When he jumps, the bottle drops and soda flows like a tiny river through the green carpet.
“Aw-w-w, what’d you have to go and do that for? Aunt Rose was hiding three bottles of soda in her closet and that was the last one.”
The sweet scent of honey buns drifts into the room when Waynie’s mother comes around the corner wearing a knitted cap and shawl. Aunt Sweetie is the baker in the family and with a mischievous grin searches through her purse with gnarled fingers that are never without a cigarette. Her voice is raspy and deep like a bullfrog croaking in the night.
“Hey there, little Connie Mary, ain’t you gettin’ perty? Your mom and dad left early this morning for the World’s Fair with Aunt Rosalie and Uncle Joe. Now, I want you both to be good little children, ya hear? Your sweet sister Janice is sleeping upstairs, so be nice and quiet all right?” She glares suspiciously at Waynie. “I’ll be right back. I have to go to the corner store and get more supplies to make my sweet rolls.”
Waynie and I exchange smiling eyes and watch his mother walk out the door. In less than a minute, she returns, peeking her head inside the house. “Don’t forget Wayne…Aunt Rosalie does not like her things touched.” and with great reluctance, she shuts the door.
Waynie and I sit on the floor watching Snooper and Blabber, but Waynie grows bored and starts picking crumbs off his undershirt that barely covers a round belly. Even though we never discussed our fathers, I feel a special bond toward Waynie because his father looks as mean as mine. The best part about Waynie is that he believes everything I tell him. The worst part is that he is sick. For some time now, I have been listening on the phone to Aunt Sweetie tell my mother that Waynie is sick. This is hard to believe. I am looking at Waynie right now eating a large plate of pasta and he doesn’t look very sick to me. I am more upset that my parents did not take me to the World’s Fair.
“Waynie, are you upset that we didn’t get to see the fair?”
Waynie’s response is to fall on his hands and knees and sniff the carpet like a dog. He crawls to my feet and pretends to polish my shoes with an imaginary cloth and I smile knowing the real fun is about to begin.
“You’re not fooling me, Shoeshine Boy. I know who you really are underneath that magnificent blue cape. You’re that Cosmic Hero of the magical world!”
Grinning, Waynie backs away and steps into Aunt Rosalie’s coat closet. When he slams the door, it sounds as though he is fighting against a hundred metal coat hangers. I must prove I am just as wild and jump up and down on Aunt Rosalie’s couch. When the closet door finally bursts open, it is not Shoeshine Boy, but the most famous dog in the world—Underdog! Using his undershirt for a cape, Underdog makes his grand entrance by leaping on top of Aunt Rosalie’s coffee table and tries to sing the song from his favorite cartoon show: “Wah-oo, Wah-oo, Wah-oo… when bad people in this world appear, the cry for help comes far and near—Underdog! Underdog! UNDERDOG!”
I fall to my knees and beg for mercy. “Oh Underdog, I am the lowly Polly Purebred! Save me from the evil likes of Simon Bar Sinister, Riff Raff, and Overcat!”
Underdog jumps to the floor. “There’s no need to fear, Underdog is here! It is my duty, sweet Polly, to serve and wipe out evil that has plagued Dogkind for ages. We shall go forth, fighting evil, side by side.” He kicks open the door to the back yard. “After you madam.”
Together we hold hands and walk across the lush green lawn. When Underdog notices a ladder leaning against the roof of Aunt Rosalie’s garage, he bravely faces danger. “Polly, you stay here. I will climb this roof and see if any intruders are lurking in the bushes. Your mission, Polly Purebred…is to…ah…hold the ladder.” Underdog stands on the roof placing one hand over his forehead to scan the neighborhood.
I call up in my sweetest voice, “Are we safe yet?”
“Yes, Polly Purebred, it looks good. You can climb up now. No appearance of evil appears on the horizon.”
I answer slyly, “Good.” and pull the ladder from the roof to rest across the grass.
Underdog cries foul play. “You fiend—YOU traitor! —I should have known not to trust Polly Purebred! I should have realized you’re not a Purebred at all—you’re just a mongrel!”
I stick out my tongue. “Underdog, let’s say you and me, we make a little deal. You tell me who you’re in love with at school and I’ll be a good little doggie and put the ladder back… okay?” Feeling the pain of defeat, Underdog lies on his stomach and hangs his head over the roof. The Great Underdog is deep in thought. The only sound heard is his stomach growling. Underdog must risk giving in or starving to death.
“Hmm… how about we make a deal? I’ll tell you the juicy details, if you tell me if you ever kissed a boy. How about that?” I tuck one hand behind my back and cross my fingers. “It’s a deal. You go first.” When I plop down on the grass to hear Waynie’s confession, I see a neighbor watching us from his front porch.
Underdog rips off his cape. “Okay Polly Purebred, I’ll spill the beans and I’m not ashamed to say it! I’m madly in love with a girl named Patricia! She’s the most beautiful girl in the world!” and looks at the sky all lovey-dovey. “One day when we were at recess I kissed her smack-dab on the lips and whispered, ‘I love you, Patricia!’”
Screaming and laughing at the same time I shout— “Oh, Waynie, YOU BIG DOPE!”
Underdog hangs his head in shame. “All right, Connie Mary, cut the bullcrap. You won. Now tell me about your first kiss.” Before I run, I look at Underdog’s trusting face.
“Ha! I fooled you! I fooled you again Waynie Ormston! I was never planning on telling you anything and never will!” Waynie can no longer contain his frustration.
“Ah, gee whiz, gosh dang it, she did it again.”
I run into the house laughing so hard my stomach hurts. I lock the doors and watch my cousin jumping up and down on the garage roof saying worse swears than my father! I hide behind the couch and hold my hands over my ears. When it is quiet and I think he has given up, I peek outside to see Waynie taking off his clothes and throwing them up in the air. There goes his belt, sneakers, socks and pants—and that’s enough for me! I run outside just before he is about to pull down his faded underwear with the yucky brown spots.
“Waynie—STOP! Okay, okay—I’ll put the ladder back… geez…ok.” The next twenty minutes is spent trying to find Waynie’s missing sock until the same neighbor I saw watching us calmly walks over dangling Waynie’s sock between two fingers. Without smiling, he drops the sock on the grass and asks a question. “By the way, WHEN are you two kids going home? Sooner than later—I hope?”
When we enter Aunt Rosalie’s house, we find Janice sitting alone at the kitchen table eating a plate of meatballs. This is when Aunt Sweetie comes prancing through the front door and plops two brown bags on the kitchen table. She goes right to work banging Aunt Rosalie’s new pots and pans around. When she first notices Janice her eyes look sad. But she quickly changes her expression and smiles with love.
“Hey Jan, you’re welcome to stay here with me. You can keep your old aunt company while I bake my finest sweet rolls.” She chuckles as if she is planning on poisoning us instead. My sister smiles through red teeth.
“Oh thank you, Aunt Sweetie, you are a wonderful aunt!”
Aunt Sweetie sees Waynie standing next to me wearing only his underwear and laughs.
“Ah, ain’t that cute. Were you two kids having fun playing Underdog? Well, does Polly Purebred and Underdog want some of my prize winning sweet rolls? If they do, they have to be good little children and go into the parlor and watch television.”
The three of us are already transfixed by Alvin and the Chipmunks when Aunt Sweetie strolls in carrying steaming plates of gooey sweet rolls. Waynie is the first to grab a bun and shove inside his mouth. Aunt Sweetie pretends not to see and giggles, “Kids, I’ll tell you a secret. If everyone in the world ate my sweet rolls there’d be no more wars, no more hate, and no more crazy people running around. See kids, I got a secret ingredient in my rolls. And you know what that is?” We don’t answer because our mouths are stuffed with gooey sweet rolls, so Aunt Sweetie answers for us. “It’s love kids, pure love.”
Read More of the Lonley Nest by purchasing your own copy at:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/1736908901/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=&sr=
A Special Note from Concetta:
Greetings,
I would like to introduce my book “The Lonely Nest.” The Lonely Nest has taken fourteen years to complete and has gone through several drafts. Published in 2021, this journey has been a rewarding one, as I receive so many letters from people telling me how much my book helped them.
My book is a TRUE CRIME.
The most popular review on Amazon: YOU WILL NOT PUT THIS BOOK DOWN!
The Lonely Nest is the story of my mother and sister, who remain undocumented cases of domestic violence in Connecticut. However, the main message of the book is to bring awareness to domestic abuse, violence, and sometimes death. However, beauty, compassion, courage, and strength are also an important part of my story.
This book is for all the people whose stories were never heard.
It begins in 1959, at Fields Memorial School in Bozrah, CT, and later to NFA, where a teacher named Alan K. Driscoll becomes an important mentor. This book reveals familiar sights in Norwich and Bozrah from the 1960s, many long since passed, such as Mr. Big, Woolworth, Thermos Company, Uncas on Thames, and The Norwich State Hospital, where my mother and sister were once committed.
The book also contains paranormal activity, especially when I visit the Norwich State Hospital as a teenager, and see an ominous ghost, or when my sister is seen walking through the backyard, even though she is not home.
Thank you, may God’s grace lead you out of the darkness and into the light. Concetta Falcone-Codding
https://www.facebook.com/TheLonelyNestSeries/
concettafalconecodding1@gmail.com
Author Bio: Concetta Falcone-Codding
I, Connie Mary, am the only survivor left to tell the story of my mother and sister, whose deaths continue to remain undocumented cases of domestic violence in Connecticut. Despite being profoundly dyslexic, my life is nothing short of a miracle. I feel privileged to have attendedThe Norwich Free Academy where Alan K. Driscoll taught me that everyone should leave the world a better place than how they found it. I continue to live by this mantra. Despite the odds, I obtained an Associate Degree at Mohegan Community College, a B.S., from Eastern Connecticut State University, an MA in Special Education and a Sixth Year from The University of Connecticut. I have been honored to work as a Special Education teacher for over 30 years in Connecticut. My years as a monthly columnist for the Norwich Bulletin gave me the depth and expertise to write a novel of this magnitude. Presently, I write a monthly column for The Norwich Times called "The Good Old Days."
I will always fight for the rights of children to live a happy life, free from abuse. I live in New England in the middle of the sacred pines with my husband and a slew of animals, including the Robins who come back every spring to have babies. I wrote The Lonely Nest in the hope I could change the way the world views Domestic Violence and Incest. I wanted the world to know that Domestic Violence and Incest could never survive without silence from its victims, along, with those who indifferently watch. Words to live by: On your journey, do not share the same path as your abuser. When we resort to hate and violence, we become our abusers. Hate poisons forgiveness heals. The way to find peace is to use your voice to help others and follow the light from above.
Follow me @ www.facebook.com/TheLonelyNestSeries