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STOLEN IN PARIS: The Lost Chronicles of Young Ernest Hemingway: My Greatest Temptation: Me and My Pesky Hormones (They Come With No Instructions)
STOLEN IN PARIS: The Lost Chronicles of Young Ernest Hemingway: My Greatest Temptation: Me and My Pesky Hormones (They Come With No Instructions)
STOLEN IN PARIS: The Lost Chronicles of Young Ernest Hemingway: My Greatest Temptation: Me and My Pesky Hormones (They Come With No Instructions)
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STOLEN IN PARIS: The Lost Chronicles of Young Ernest Hemingway: My Greatest Temptation: Me and My Pesky Hormones (They Come With No Instructions)

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Stolen in Paris: The Lost Chronicles hits home with the teenage genius search for truth in all of us.

Ernest Hemingway's first wife lost a suitcase full of prized manuscripts on a trip home from Paris. These missing stories were never to be seen again. Who knows what literary classics that suitcase may have contained?

In the imagination of this author have been found those missing memoirs—a series of twelve exciting adventures, with more to come, found by way of "biographic fantasy noir." "The Lost Chronicles of Young Ernest Hemingway" unveil his earliest, most fascinating adventure stories, and monologues read like eaves-dropping while he unloads in his priest's confessional booth.The author imagines what the childhood and teenage life of Ernest Hemingway in Petoskey must have been like.

This stylish series of young adult novels reveals literary merit, fine design, and strong kid-relevance. Filled with unbridled Victorian romance, adventure, betrayal, parent-sibling drama, and tribal temptations tastefully presented like a cathartic, primal glimpse into one, very troubled, sub-conscious.

History comes alive in these historical adventure stories!

"The Lost Chronicles of Young Ernest Hemingway" is indeed the perfect platform on which to expose those early, deeply gnarled roots of America's most analyzed, literary bad boy.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherDavid Wyant
Release dateJul 31, 2012
ISBN9781476152288
STOLEN IN PARIS: The Lost Chronicles of Young Ernest Hemingway: My Greatest Temptation: Me and My Pesky Hormones (They Come With No Instructions)
Author

David Wyant

David Henry Wyant, M.Ed. was born in Rogers City Michigan, just 60 miles directly east of Petoskey, along Lake Huron. He graduated with honors from RCHS in 1959 during a time when most young Americans strongly felt the need to do what they could to beat Russia into outer space. At seventeen, he drew rocket plans for NASA.A graduate of Concordia Univ. Chicago(BA) and Wayne State Univ. Detroit, MI,(MA), Mr. Wyant taught elementary school for 30 years specializing in Art. He worked on a team which wrote the state Art curriculum for Florida.Author Wyant currently enjoys visits with his daughter, Lisa Luebke (wife of Randall), five grandchildren and one great grandchild who all live nearby in Boyne City, Michigan. Experiencing Petoskey's north woods will never be the same after you read, "The Lost Chronicles of Young Ernest Hemingway." "The Town that Haunted Hemingway"..."Side Door to Heaven for Hemingway"Mr. Wyant's previous books were environmental in nature:"A Compilation of Poems", Landscape painting with words"My Petoskey Stones"(192 pages regional poems) Extolling the natural beauty of Petoskey, MI"The Town that Haunted Hemingway." Extensive research of Hemingway’s youth in Petoskey area."Art Curriculum, State of FL." What every child should know about Art, K-12Mr. Wyant is available for readings of his books, writer's workshops and readings of his unique regional poetry.

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    Book preview

    STOLEN IN PARIS - David Wyant

    Stolen in Paris...

    The Lost Chronicles of Young Ernest Hemingway

    Book 11: My Greatest Temptation: Me and My Pesky Hormones (They Come With No Instructions)

    Published by David Henry Wyant at Smashwords

    Copyright 2012 David Henry Wyant

    Smashwords Edition, License Notes

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    **********

    Table of Contents

    Chapter 1: Troublesome Cello

    Chapter 2: Ernest Manages His Hormones

    Chapter 3: My Last Good Summer

    Chapter 4: It Ain't That Easy

    Chapter 5: Chicky Brings Good News

    Chapter 6: An Unforgettable Season

    Chapter 7: My Mother, My Nemesis

    Chapter 8: Goodbye to the Family

    Chapter 9: The First Horton's Bay Teenagers to Have Automobiles

    Chapter 1: Troublesome Cello

    Life up north in the boondocks around 1915 was kinda bleak, so when we all arrived it was up to us city folk to liven up the place. Okay, so Oak Park and River Forest were not exactly lively Chicago, but compared to Petoskey and our lake areas around Walloon and Charlevoix, it was jumping. But here in Michigan it was quiet and peaceful, except for the constant whine of the saw mills all around. All us Hemingway kids had our chores and only when they were finished to a T were we even allowed to ask if we could go out to play.

    Father, Doc Clarence, was one stern cookie. Although he sported a full beard to cover a rather weak chin (according to Mother Grace), the rest of him was decked out like a young bull. If his stern look from those big, brown Hemingway eyes didn't deter us from ruining our young teenage lives, then his stout razor strap was applied.

    We all got the strap, even little Carol if she threw a tantrum. The old boy would apply the lash and say, Now! Now you got something to cry about! So you better think about stopping or you'll get some more.

    Marceline, Marcy as everyone called her, but me (I calls her Ivory Tower 'cause she's a whole head taller than me and she's always got her head in the clouds, out of touch with all of us commoners on the ground). She is also a year older than I.

    At some time in our lives we both might mellow out and become good friends, but right now as teenagers, competition is what best describes us. We both compete for parental attention. Marcy is good in music: piano, violin, voice, and art: the girl paints and has applied to go to Paris for sculpture lessons with August Rodin. He sent her a card saying he would think about it.

    With all her art and music talent, Ivory scores big with Mother Grace. Ivory Tower is also very good at baking, which puts her head and shoulders above Mother Grace, who is never caught in the kitchen. So Ivory is pretty secure and charming actually, when she is all dolled up with a floor- length Victorian highneck dress, high-button shoes, piled high hair with a fluffy bonnet and scarf and sporting a fancy, frilly parasol.

    Now Ursala is unique. She is two years younger than I, but can flip-flop from a high society young lady of twelve going on twenty, to the neighborhood tom-boy in pigtails, sporting bib overalls and bare feet, and tan as a coffee bean. Ursa, (as I calls her, or Littless too, sometimes during hours of endearment, which are often), should be a fashion model. With her Hemingway good looks, she is the consummate, budding, iconic brunette. She carries her frame tall and statuesque like Ivory, only ten shades darker, and a head shorter. She and I have a special telepathic bond, which allows us to communicate anywhere on the planet.

    Now Madelaine, or Sunny, the resident, toe-headed, tom-boy fishes, shoots the eye out of a squirrel at twenty yards, plays baseball and tennis, plus, according to Mother, could also play piano if she wasn't day-dreaming about running around as my shadow, doing boy things.

    Carol is our latest arrival. Being three now, she thinks she can run with her sibs, but bumps and falls and skins herself up quite a bit. She gets loads of attention from the Great Physician when he visits the cabin.

    Mother Grace is pregnant again. I sure hope it's her last, and it better be a boy this time or else!

    So, you see, where I stand among all this hearty, musical talent and feminine charm, of which I have none. None

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