Maryrose Wood photo

Maryrose Wood

Sending big hugs and loveawoo to all.

I'm so pleased to introduce you to my new book: Alice's Farm, A Rabbit’s Tale. In stores on September 1st; available for preorder now.

Alice is an eastern cottontail. Genus sylvagia, species floridanus. About three pounds full grown, if she makes it that far.

Life at the bottom of the food chain is no picnic! But that doesn’t worry Alice much. She's too busy doing all she can to save her beautiful farmland home—not just for herself, but for all the creatures of the valley between the hills.

Yup, all of ’em! Even that new family of farmers who just moved into the big red

house across the meadow. They don’t know much about farming, being from

the city. They mean well. But they’re easy pickins for the local apex predator (he's a real estate developer, in case you couldn't tell).

But Alice has a plan to help.

Rabbits helping farmers? That’s awfully unusual, isn’t it? Well, you're right

about that, young’un!

Let’s put it this way: Alice is no ordinary rabbit.

With loveawoo,

Maryrose

p.s. — If you could use a little extra pluck and optimism right now, please help yourself to THE SWANBURNE ACADEMY GUIDE TO SHELTERING IN PLACE.

You can download it right here:

www.swanburneacademy.com/freeguide


“I will have the children read Hamlet as soon as it is practical. There are some useful cautions against eavesdropping to be gleaned from that.”
Maryrose Wood
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“I take my metal canister of tea off the shelf. It is my own mixture of dried lavender blossoms and lemon balm, harvested from my garden and hung in the storeroom to dry. Weed helped me hang these stalks, I think. His hands touched these tender leaves, just as they touch me.”
Maryrose Wood
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“Of course we will send postcards to Nutsawoo. And we shall bring him back a present as well. In fact,' she went on, with the instinctive knack every good governess has for turning something enjoyable into a lesson, and vice versa, 'I will expect all three of you to practice your writing by keeping a journal of our trip so that Nutsawoo may know how we spend our days. Why, by the time we return, he will think he has been to London himself! He will be the envy of all his little squirrel friends,' she declared.Penelope had no way of knowing if this last statement was true. Could squirrels feel envy? Would they give two figs about London? Did Nutsawoo even have friends?”
Maryrose Wood
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“Penelope had read several novels about such governesses in preparation for her interview and found them chock-full of useful information, although she had no intention of developing romantic feelings for the charming, penniless tutor at a neighboring estate. Or - heaven forbid! - for the darkly handsome, brooding, and extravagantly wealthy master of her own household. Lord Frederick Ashton was newly married in any case, and she had no inkling what his complexion might be”
Maryrose Wood
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“If you have ever opened a can of worms, boxed yourself into a corner, ended up in hot water, or found yourself in a pretty pickle, you already know that life is rarely (if ever) just a bowl of cherries.”
Maryrose Wood
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“foxgloveIN THEoleanderRIGHT DOSEmoonseedEVERYTHINGbelladonnaIS A POISONlove.”
Maryrose Wood
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“They are trying to take you back from me now, and they will—but only for a brief, little while—”
Maryrose Wood
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“But when the seesaw of good fortune sinks downward for one person, it is very often on its way up for someone else. This little-known law of physics is called the Fulcrum of Fortune, and although most people prefer to think of fortune as a wheel that spins, the fulcrum (that is, seesaw) is a more accurate depiction for most of us, since the worse our own luck becomes, the more likely we are to notice the good fortune of those around us and brood about the injustice of it all.”
Maryrose Wood
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“In the words of Agatha Swanburne, founder of Swanburne Academy, "Every book is judged by its cover until it is read.”
Maryrose Wood
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“A crease of disquiet snakes across his brow. 'Your father plays with fire to gather them together like that. They are too clever. They form alliances. They develop - ambitions.'He looks so solemn I wish to soothe his fears. 'You worry too much, I am sure,' I say lightly. 'After all, they are still rooted in the ground, are they not? They cannot pull themselves up and march around wrecking havoc, like an invading army.''Maybe,' he says, though he sounds unsure. 'I have never met their like before; that is all. It disturbs me.' He gestures around. 'And not only me. The forests, the fields, the moss that grows on the rocks - none of them are happy about that garden. Nature would have kept those plants safely apart, scattered over the continents, separated by oceans. But your father has summoned them from the corners of the earth and locked them together, side by side, hidden behind walls, where they can grow in secret. It is wrong, Jessamine - I fear it is dangerous -”
Maryrose Wood
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“He may not answer me at first, but that is no matter. I have someone to talk to, at last! My words will be like sunshine and air. My voice will rain down on him, and then we shall see what glorious orchid may blossom from this shy, unwanted Weed.”
Maryrose Wood
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“I watch, and wait. And mourn, for what I must now do to save Jessamine's life makes me unworthy of her love. Whether she lives or dies, I know I have lost her. I have lost her, forever.”
Maryrose Wood
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“[A]s Agatha Swanburne once said, 'To be kept waiting is unfortunate, but to be kept waiting with nothing interesting to read is a tragedy of Greek proportions.”
Maryrose Wood
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“This memory was both happy and sad: happy because it was so pleasant, and sad because it made Penelope think about how much she missed Swanburne--the girls, the teachers, Miss Mortimer. Or perhaps it was her own much younger self, that pint-sized person whom she could never be again, whom she missed. It was hard to say.”
Maryrose Wood
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“If there is one thing I have learned, from loving Jessamine and even from the evil tasks you have made me do, it is that all forms of life are worthy of compassion.”
Maryrose Wood
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“Nowadays, people resort to all kinds of activities in order to calm themselves after a stressful event: performing yoga poses in a sauna, leaping off bridges while tied to a bungee, killing imaginary zombies with imaginary weapons, and so forth. But in Miss Penelope Lumley's day, it was universally understood that there is nothing like a nice cup of tea to settle one's nerves in the aftermath of an adventure- a practice many would find well worth reviving.”
Maryrose Wood
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“In this way Penelope's happy and sad feelings got all mixed up together, until they were not unlike one of those delicious cookies they have nowadays, the ones with a flat circle of sugary cream sandwiched between two chocolate-flavored wafers. In her heart she felt a soft, hidden core of sweet melancholy nestled inside crisp outer layers of joy, and if that is not the very sensation most people feel at some point or other during the holidays, then one would be hard pressed to say what is.”
Maryrose Wood
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“If it were easy to resist, it would not be called chocolate cake.”
Maryrose Wood
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“There is no alarm clock like embarassment.”
Maryrose Wood
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“All books are judged by their covers until they are read.”
Maryrose Wood
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“Some stupid fairy tale charecter. Like a cheap plastic toy you'd get get by sending in the top of a lucky charms box plus $3.99 shipping and handling.”
Maryrose Wood
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“Clearly, being anxious is a full-time and rather exhausting occupation.”
Maryrose Wood
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“Weed Rises to his feet. "Nature," he says softly, "makes so many beautiful things. But I did not know until you that nature could make a girl so beautiful.”
Maryrose Wood
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“Like a milk mustache, faint traces of you persist; love leaves evidence.”
Maryrose Wood
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“You flesh bodies are so obsessed with goodness, yet no other form of life on earth is capable of such cruelty. You need only convince yourselves your transgressions serve some 'purpose.' Even if it is only greed, or lust, or the raw desire for power that drives you. You will spill the blood of your kinsmen, lay waste to the earth itself, wreak havoc, and cause unspeakable suffering---any and all sins are justified, as long as they are a means to your precous, righteous 'purpose'.”
Maryrose Wood
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“But was that not the task you set me? To defend the helpless against the strong?" "Indeed it was Master Weed. But who is to say who is helpless, and who is strong?" .........."If you seek the power to alter fate, you must also bear responsibility for the consequences. For you cannot change the fate of only one being; all fates are intertwined." "I performed the task," I protest. "I did what you bid me do." "You defended the weak from the strong." Larkspur speaks as if from far away. "But who will defend these poor weak infants against you!?”
Maryrose Wood
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“Call it professional interest. You see, Jessamine, love is a kind of poison; one of my favorite kinds, in fact. It infects the blood; it takes over the mind; it seizes dominion over the body. It amuses me to think of him pining for you. Aching for what he cannot have. The loneliness in his soul is festering like a wound. There is nothing I could do for him that is worse that what you have already done, my lovely. And I assure you, in his case there will be no cure.”
Maryrose Wood
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