Spotlight of Boy With Wings by Mark Mustian

PHOTO SOURCE:
TYPORAMA
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    BOY WITH WINGS

MARK MUSTIAN

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ALL INFORMATION IN THIS POST IS COURTESY OF JACKIE KARNETH | SENIOR PUBLICIST | BOOKS FORWARD

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What does it mean to be different?

A fantastical and poignant tale that dives into America’s history with freak shows, and what it means to be different in this world.

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 March 15, 2025

Koehler Books

Literary Fiction, Historical

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PRAISE FOR THE AUTHOR:

“In this propulsive tale of the magic lurking inside our mortality, Mark Mustian has conjured a surreal hero. Here is a translucent rendering of boyhood and aberration, of the fault lines of race and the frailty of religion. In sentences that are equally primal and poetic, Mustian transports us through the shacks, camps, circuses, and back alleys of the Depression-era South, asking a still-resonant question: what's the price of belonging in a society that's already broken?”–Katy Simpson Smith, author of “The Everlasting,” for “Boy With Wings”

“Novelist Mustian writes relentlessly, telling [Ahmet’s] haunting story in brief bursts of luminous yet entirely unsentimental prose and reminding us that, when life gets bloody, we had better watch out for our own humanity.”—Library Journal (Starred Review), for “The Gendarme”

“Every decade or so, I find a novel that I sense, just by reading the basic description, will become unforgettable; after reading only 20 pages of ‘The Gendarme,’ my impression was confirmed with great force. For this decade, and this reader, ‘The Gendarme’ is that extraordinary, unforgettable novel…”—BookPage, for “The Gendarme”

“A well-plotted, well-told story with a powerful, moving message…”—Baton Rouge Advocate, for “The Gendarme”

“A brilliantly conceived and carefully crafted novel…”—Southern Literary Review, for “The Gendarme”

“This is a harrowing and truly important novel by a splendid American writer.”—Robert Olen Butler, Pulitzer Prize winning author of “Hell and A Good Scent from a Strange Mountain,” for “The Gendarme”

“Vibrant and alive, the kind of book where the blood pumps mightily” –Kristen Arnett, NYT bestselling author of “Mostly Dead Things”

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ABOUT BOY WITH WINGS:

Johnny Cruel is born with strange appendages on his back, frightening his neighbors and leaving him struggling to find a home.

Johnny ends up in a “freak show” traveling the 1930s South, where he bares his back to onlookers who come to gape and fawn.

Is he a horror or an angel? Should he hide himself to live his life?

As Johnny comes to grips with his uniqueness, he embarks on a journey of love and finds the miracles that give our lives meaning.

Mustian’s thrilling and emotional story of self-discovery is perfect for book clubs and fans of historical fiction. 

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

MARK MUSTIAN is the author of the novels “The Return” and “The Gendarme,” the latter an international bestseller that has been published in eleven languages.

He was a finalist for the Dayton International Literary Peace Prize, shortlisted for the Saroyan International Award for Writing, and the winner of the Florida Gold Book Award for fiction.

He is the founder and president of the Word of South Festival of Literature and Music in Tallahassee, Florida, now in its tenth year.

A former elected official and an attorney, he lives in Florida and Michigan with his wife and elderly dog.

Learn more at: www.markmustian.com

FOLLOW MARK MUSTIAN ON SOCIAL MEDIA:

Facebook: @MarkMustianAuthor

Twitter: @MarkMustian

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An Interview with

Mark Mustian

1. What inspired you to write “Boy With Wings”?

I’ve thought about writing this book for quite some time. I’ve started it, stopped it, begun again, made revisions. I wanted to dig into what it means to be different, and how that truly feels.

2. Although there are no “freak shows” today as there were in the 1930s, do you believe there’s a contemporary equivalent?

There actually are still a few traveling freak shows, but oddities today are shown mostly on the Internet and TV. Just as in the 1930’s, there’s much that is fake, and some that is real.

3. What is the significance of ignorance and superstition in this book?

Ignorance and superstition are related in certain ways to belief (and religion). We tend to equate anything we don’t or can’t understand to God, but at the same time we fear it. Human oddities seem a perfect example—we’re fascinated even as we’re repelled.

4. What role does spirituality play in the book?

The main character, Johnny, struggles with his body and his belief. Is it God he believes in, or the Bible, or even something else? He struggles also with the role society seems to want him to play. I think those struggles are there for all of us, and spirituality is the path (with its many branches) that can lead us through.

5. As a Southern writer, how do race and religion connect to the book and reflect the region you call home?

It’s hard to write as a Southerner without addressing race and religion, or at least it is for me. Each so permeates life here, and arguments can be made that we’ve come a long way on both, or that we haven’t come very far at all (and don’t want to). Dichotomies are everywhere: the hypocrisies of the Church, the unwillingness to look past oneself, the tribalism that’s in our blood, the absolute beauty of the land and its people. All fertile ground for a writer.

6. Have you ever been in situations where you were perceived as “the odd man out”?

Absolutely—I think everyone has at some point in their life. Some people thrive on it, but I believe that it’s hard for most. It starts early, when we’re kids—I remember being ostracized because I wasn’t “cool.” That impacted my life, for better and sometimes for worse.

7. Why do you think people are fascinated with “weird,” and at the same time repulsed by it?

I saw an article one time where the musician Sting claimed to be an “adrenaline junkie.” I think almost everyone is, to a certain degree—we want to be stimulated, to feel that little rush of anger, revulsion, happiness or something else, to take us out of the humdrum of everyday life. Each day there’s a car crash somewhere, and nearly all of us stop to look.

8. Tell us a little bit about your work with Word of South Festival in Tallahassee, Florida.

When “The Gendarme” was published, I was invited to speak at a number of literary festivals around the country. I was a Tallahassee City Commissioner then, and thought, “We should do something like that here!” Five years later, Word of South was born. We had our first festival in 2015, and it rained all weekend, but eleven years later, we’re still putting authors and musicians together in all sorts of unique ways. There’s really not much like it anywhere in the world.

9. What’s next for you?

More books! I’m working on a fantastic story set in late antiquity (the 400s), and a Civil War piece, as well. I hope to keep digging into why we do the things we do and believe the things we believe (or say we do).

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Spotlight and Excerpt of Their Monstrous Hearts by Yigit Turhan

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THEIR MONSTROUS HEARTS

YIGIT TURHAN

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ALL INFORMATION IN THIS POST IS COURTESY OF CHERYL LEE | PUBLICITY INTERN | HARPER COLLINS PUBLISHERS

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A haunting novel about the boundaries people will cross to keep their dreams alive.

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April 8, 2025

Harlequin Trade Publishing / MIRA

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ABOUT THEIR MONSTROUS HEARTS:

A mysterious stranger shows up at Riccardo’s apartment with some news: his grandmother Perihan has died, and Riccardo has inherited her villa in Milan along with her famed butterfly collection.

The struggling writer is out of options.

He’s hoping the change of scenery in Milan will inspire him, and maybe there will be some money to keep him afloat.

But Perihan’s house isn’t as opulent as he remembers. The butterflies pinned in their glass cases seem more ominous than artful.

Perihan’s group of mysterious old friends is constantly lurking. And there’s something wrong in the greenhouse.

As Riccardo explores the decrepit estate, he stumbles upon Perihan’s diary, which might hold the key to her mysterious death.

Or at least give him the inspiration he needs to finish his manuscript.

But he might not survive long enough to write it.

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EXCERPT OF THEIR MONSTROUS HEARTS:

Prologue

Perihan gazed at the opulent villas lined up like precious pearls on a necklace, feeling overwhelmed by their excessive beauty. The sight was almost terrifying, reminiscent of the antique pearls adorning her own necklace. As the dark clouds were illuminated by a sudden flash of lightning, she shook off her thoughts and quickened her pace along the deserted road. The gentle raindrops on her tired face felt like an omi­nous sign. The unexpected gust of wind, unusual for a mild November afternoon, added to her unease.

On her seventieth birthday, Perihan had indulged in a day of shopping at Milan’s most luxurious stores. Despite her age, she possessed a strong physique, with firm knees, agile move­ments, and enough strength to carry her shopping bags from the stores to her home. The kind store managers at Cartier and Valentino had offered to send the packages to her address with a courier, but she declined, insisting she could manage on her own. Though she lacked a family to celebrate with, her small group of friends had arranged to gather at the villa, refusing to let her spend the evening alone. They had asked her to leave the house and return around seven o’clock. Glancing at her watch, Perihan realized she was already half an hour late.

Oh my… Licia must have already set the table, she thought as she turned the corner onto Via Marco de Marchi, where she resided. Just then, another lightning bolt flashed across the sky, and a large monarch butterfly appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Despite the heavy rain, Perihan could hear the faint flapping of its wings. The butterfly had bright orange and black stripes, with one wing decorated with symmetric white dots. It seemed to hover in midair.

“What a miracle,” Perihan exclaimed, a smile stretching across her wrinkled face. “It’s been years since I last saw this one…and on my birthday!” Hastily shifting the heavy bags onto her shoulder, she wiped the raindrops from her eyes with her long red nails and followed the butterfly. It fluttered around in circles for a few moments, before darting straight ahead. Despite the downpour, the orange-and-black wings moved swiftly. Overwhelmed with excitement, Perihan dis­regarded the red light—and almost got hit by an old Ford passing by. The driver, an unattractive man with numerous moles and few teeth, leaned out of the window and cursed at her in an Italian dialect she couldn’t understand. Unfazed by his behavior, Perihan remained focused on following the butterfly, which flew rapidly and ascended into the sky.

“I wonder where it disappeared to,” she mused with a melancholic expression on her face. The rain intensified, the drainage problems in the area turning the road into a pool of water. Perihan’s bare feet were drenched as the rain seeped through the open toes of her green python slingbacks.

“You’re blocking my view.” The unexpected comment startled her. She looked at the stranger, hoping to recognize a friendly face, but it was no one she knew. She turned to notice the growing crowd of people with their faces hidden behind their phone screens. She wondered if they were filming her. Lacking an umbrella, her meticulously coiffed hair now wet, her makeup smudged, and her silk skirt ruined by the muddy street, Perihan was struck by the crowd’s indifference. They shifted slightly to the right, attempting to remove her from their line of sight, all the while continuing to record whatever had caught their attention. Curious, Perihan turned around and was terrified by what she saw. In shock, she dropped her red shopping bags, causing more muddy water to splatter onto her skirt and completely destroying her shoes.

“This can’t be happening,” she screamed to the sky at the top of her lungs. Her knees trembled uncontrollably, left her unsure about taking another five steps to cross the road. Peri­han noticed the cameras turning toward her in her peripheral vision, but she paid no mind to the desperation and terror that would eventually go viral on numerous social media networks in multiple countries. Her villa loomed in front of her, con­cealed by high walls covered with lush green bushes—now invaded by hundreds, if not thousands, of butterflies. They hovered over the garden, flapping their wings vigorously de­spite the pouring rain. The entire structure, partially visible through the bushes, seemed imprisoned within a butterfly sanctuary. When Perihan realized the creatures were all mon­archs, each one so exquisite and valuable, she paused. Beauty had a threshold, and beyond it, it became a captivating terror, holding people’s attention hostage to fulfill its own needs. She propelled herself into the flooded road, heading for the gar­den gate. With what little strength remained after the ordeal, she pushed her way through the floral Art Nouveau door.

“Licia! Where are you?” she shouted upon entering the gar­den. Before closing the door behind her, she turned to scream at the onlookers, “Leave! The show’s over! This is my prop­erty!” Yet, the crowd remained unaffected, mesmerized by the extraordinary natural phenomenon unfolding before them.

Licia, Perihan’s housekeeper and closest friend of nearly forty years, looked like a ghost. Her complexion was drained of color, her wet hair clung to her face in disheveled patches, and her shoes were ruined by dark mud. She trembled as she spoke. “Perihan… We did our best, but…” Licia glanced quickly at their small group of friends, who observed the scene from the kitchen window on the first floor of the house. Perihan brushed Licia aside with the back of her hand and made her way toward the large greenhouse on the left side of the gar­den. Orange butterflies continued to emerge rapidly through a broken pane in its ceiling, swarming through the air. Looking up at the vortex of butterflies resembling a brewing tornado, Perihan felt a wave of dizziness. Her bony hand reached for the intricately detailed metal handle of the greenhouse door, but fear gripped her body. She hesitated, afraid to enter, yet knowing she had no other choice. Slowly, she pushed the door open, entered, and closed it behind her.

Licia tried to conceal her sobbing behind her hands. Should she follow Perihan into the greenhouse or return to the house? The rain cascaded like a waterfall, obstructing not only her movements but her thoughts as well. She compelled herself to decide, but the sudden outburst from within the green­house froze her in place.

“No… No… No!” Perihan’s voice echoed, growing louder with each repetition—until the world fell silent, save for the raindrops tapping against any surface they encountered. The darkness beneath the swarm of butterflies gradually gave way to a dull light as they departed from the house. Licia collapsed onto her knees and allowed herself to sink into the saturated garden soil, her tears mingling with the raindrops. Once the first monarch butterfly Perihan had witnessed a few moments earlier found its way to her villa, it hovered briefly over the garden before heading in the same direction as the others. When the last of the butterflies vanished, no trace of the mi­raculous event remained.

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Excerpted from THEIR MONSTROUS HEARTS by Yigit Turhan.

Copyright © 2025 by Yigit Turhan.

Published by MIRA, an imprint of HTP/HarperCollins.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Yigit Turhan was born in Ankara, Turkey. A lifelong reader, he owes his love of horror to his grandmother and the films she shared with him. He has previously published a horror novel in Turkish. He lives in Milan, Italy, where he holds a C-suite role at a renowned fashion house. This is his English-language debut.

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SOCIAL LINKS:

GoodReads

Instagram

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BUY LINKS:

HarperCollins

BookShop

Barnes & Noble 

Amazon

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Book Blogger Hop - 4/11 - 4/17

                                                      

Question of the Week:

How many days does it usually take you to finish reading a book? (submitted by Elizabeth @ Silver's Review)

My Answer:

It usually takes me three days to read a book.

Spotlight and Excerpt of Save the Date by Allison Raskin

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SAVE THE DATE

ALLISON RASKIN

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ALL INFORMATION IN THIS POST IS COURTESY OF CHERYL LEE | PUBLICITY INTERN | HARPER COLLINS PUBLISHERS

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From trusted relationship expert, mental health advocate, and New York Times bestselling author Allison Raskin comes her breakout rom com, loosely based on her own experience with a broken engagement. 

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April 8, 2025

Canary Street Press

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ABOUT SAVE THE DATE:

Abby Jimenez, Rachel Lynn Solomon, and Emily Henry will love Allison's smart, funny, and original twist on the marriage of convenience trope.

 

When couples’ therapist Emma Moskowitz is unceremoniously dumped by her fiancé six months before their wedding, she thinks her career is over: her thriving practice, status as a trusted online creator, even her book deal all hinge on the fact that Emma is an expert when it comes to relationships and mental health. So she comes up with a plan to find a new husband by the wedding day—both to keep her reputation intact and to ensure she doesn’t lose the money she’s already spent on the big day. She starts by reconnecting with some (toxic) exes before matching with podcast host Will on a dating app. When Will confesses he doesn't want to get married, Emma is forced to move on--but not before Will offers to chronicle Emma’s journey on his podcast. It’s excellent content and they had a great connection regardless, so Emma's happy to share her story through multiple mediums.

 

Sonner than she thinks, Emma's set up with Matt, a kind, recently divorced man who thinks Emma's marriage journey is admirable. Emma and Matt connect easily too, proving her theory that Mr. Right isn't always found in the stereotypical idea of butterflies in your stomach and fireworks at every kiss. Hers and Matt's relationship is simple and comfortable--and more importantly, he actually wants to be married.

As Emma pushes ahead with her plans, she questions if she and Matt are as good a match as they think. He references his ex-wife a lot. And he doesn't seem to understand Emma's sense of humor, or why she likes talking so much. But the wedding is around the corner, and so many people are counting on Emma to see her plan through--her editor, her followers...even Will.

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EXCERPT OF SAVE THE DATE:

one

“I just don’t understand what happened.”

Emma Moskowitz lay face down in her parents’ office as they talked above her inert body. The carpet irritated her sensitive cheek, but getting a rash was the least of her worries at the moment. She was used to rashes. What she wasn’t used to—at least not yet—was the staggering pain of betrayal.

“He didn’t explain why he was doing this?” her father, Alan, asked for what had to have been the fifth time in as many minutes.

Instead of verbally responding, Emma let out a long groan to signal that she wasn’t yet in the mood to psychoanalyze why her carefully planned life was falling apart. She was still very much in the maybe I could just lie here for a few years and then die stage of grieving. That stage wasn’t talked about nearly enough. It was important.

“What did she say?” Alan looked to Emma’s mother, Debbie, for an interpretation of what could best be described as an animalistic, guttural moan.

“I don’t think she wants to talk about it just yet,” Debbie offered, despite knowing this explanation likely wasn’t going to appease her type-A husband.

“Can I have some water?” Emma interjected, finally moving into a seated position from a full-body sprawl. She wasn’t entirely confident that she was capable of drinking anything yet, but she thought she owed it to her family to try. She knew her mom hated seeing her in pain and her dad hated not having a clear solution to offer. Now that he was retired, Alan wasn’t sure what to do with himself. Emma didn’t want her recent upheaval to become his newest pet project (along with pickleball, online poker and brewing his own root beer). Despite her mother’s endless complaints of being smothered by her loving husband, Alan was the busiest retired person Emma knew. And as a couples therapist, she knew quite a few. Having a recently retired spouse was the new seven-year-itch—except this version of an itch appeared to be an overwhelming desire to be left alone. Emma wished with all her might that she was someone who wanted to be left alone instead of being herself: a person who as a child found a way to play “wedding” at every single playdate.

“Do you want bottled or from the tap with ice?” Debbie asked as though the right form of H2O could fix a broken heart.

“Doesn’t matter.” Emma sighed for effect. “Nothing matters anymore.”

Through a brief exchange of eye contact, Alan and Debbie mutually agreed it wasn’t safe to leave their youngest daughter by herself. So Alan went to retrieve the requested water, while Debbie did her best to sit on the floor, ignoring her numerous knee issues and bad back. Her hand hovered over Emma’s leg; she was unsure if physical touch would cause comfort or alarm.

“I am so sorry this is happening to you,” Debbie whispered.

Emma thought about all the other times in her life that her mother had said this. There was the time Emma fell off a chair when she was six and broke her collarbone. The time in her early twenties when her “best friends” planned a weekend trip without informing or inviting her. And there were the far too many times Emma had been unceremoniously dumped by a variety of men.

Although her present situation technically fell into the latter category, Emma felt that having her fiancé walk out on her for no apparent reason warranted its own classification of suffering.

This time was different than when her college boyfriend left her to date a high-schooler. Or when her adult boyfriend left her for a college student. This felt like the sort of pain you couldn’t get over with a laugh and a puff of medical-grade marijuana. This felt like the sort of pain that changed you forever.

Alan returned with both a cold glass of ice and a plastic water bottle. When Emma didn’t move to take either one, he set them on the side table and declared, “I think I should call him.”

“Call who?” Debbie asked with the cautious optimism of someone who hoped her husband wasn’t a total moron.

“Ryan! Maybe I can talk some sense into him. Or at least get some answers.”

Fear overtook Emma’s nervous system at the mere thought of that conversation occurring. She reached out and grasped her father’s ankle to let him know she meant business. “Please do not contact him. He won’t tell you anything useful,” Emma pleaded. “All he told me is something is missing and there is no point in working on it because it can’t be fixed. I just need to move on.”

Debbie and Alan looked at Emma with a mixture of compassion and concern. Emma couldn’t blame them—not after showing up the previous evening crying and shouting “It’s over! He left me!” before abruptly passing out on the couch to avoid her feelings. Emma felt a pang of guilt that she’d left her parents with such confounding uncertainty for almost ten hours. She knew more than most that not knowing was a special form of torture. It was time to fill them in.

“It only lasted twenty minutes.” Emma moaned as the painful memory hit her again. They had been eating dinner in front of the TV when she noticed something was off. As soon as she asked about it—expecting to hear that Ryan’s stomach hurt or his boss was annoying him again—the floodgates opened. Apparently, he’d been having doubts for months but didn’t know how to tell her. Emma tried her best to fight for them, but a switch had been flipped in Ryan’s brain and it was like trying to reason with a concrete wall. Every suggestion she flung out to try to work on their relationship was met with steely resistance. It was obvious that once the words were finally out of Ryan’s mouth, he had no intention of taking them back. He had been set free while Emma was left crushed and disoriented. Their engagement was unceremoniously over in less time than it took to watch a network sitcom.

“What were the doubts? Do you know?” Alan asked in a rather accusatory tone. Despite being retired, he would forever be a lawyer combing through details in search of a win. He didn’t seem to understand that social contracts could be broken far more easily and with fewer repercussions than legal ones.

Emma shook her head. “Unless something is missing is a clarifying answer for you. Because it’s not for me!” She could feel that she was losing control of her emotions. Within a minute or two, any attempt at coherent speech would be usurped by streaming tears and a horrifying amount of snot. She tried to get a handle on herself as her brain went into overdrive, poking and pinching the most vulnerable parts of her psyche, her insecurities finding every possible way to punish her for someone else’s decision.

The entire breakup had felt surreal from start to finish. Emma hadn’t even fully realized she was experiencing a breakup until about halfway through. She’d known things had been off between them for a few months, but it seemed to be more of a Ryan issue than a Ryan-and-Emma issue. He was unhappy with his job. He was struggling with anxiety. He had less interest in his hobbies than normal. To Emma, a licensed marriage and family therapist, it was pretty obvious he was in the midst of a depressive episode. She tried her best to be supportive while her partner was going through a tough time—and she used every ounce of self-esteem that came from her newly earned secure attachment style to not take it personally.

Turns out, she should have taken it personally. Because, according to Ryan, the issues in his life were not related to anxiety or depression after all. He was miserable because he was in the wrong relationship. She was the source of the problem, not him. And once he realized that, he had to end things right away. Or, you know, once Emma dragged it out of him on a random Monday night.

As Emma recounted this to her parents, somehow managing to make it through without dissolving into incoherent sobs, she felt slightly vindicated by the looks of confusion on their faces. This was objectively confusing, right? To ask your live-in partner to marry you and then walk out six months later completely certain that there was nothing to be done to salvage the relationship? Emma was a couples therapist, for Christ’s sake! She made a living salvaging relationships and Ryan wasn’t even willing to try? It was both a personal and a professional slap in the face.

Emma had a bunch of clients in far worse situations than hers who’d been tirelessly working on fixing things for years. One notable client had slept with his wife’s second cousin for three years and they were still together. Yet Ryan—who only a few months ago had cried with happiness as he put an engagement ring on Emma’s finger—insisted there was no point in even attempting to repair whatever he thought was broken. He had too many “concerns,” so it was best to just move on. What those concerns were exactly remained a mystery that would likely haunt Emma until she died in what she anxiously feared would be an untimely and possibly gruesome fashion.

While on the topic of unfortunate demises, Emma briefly considered murdering Ryan before news of her abandonment became public. That way she would be perceived as a grieving fiancée instead of a rejected loser, which felt much more palatable. While murder would never be her first choice when dealing with a crisis, her reputation was on the line. It is one thing to get blindsided by your partner when you’re a civilian. It’s quite another when you have a master’s in clinical psychology and make a living giving relationship advice. It was the professional equivalent of a cardiologist not realizing she was having a heart attack: mortifying. For the first time, Emma regretted her inability to hide in obscurity due to her hard-earned success.

Oh, fuck.

“My book deal!”

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Excerpted from Save the Date by Allison Raskin. Copyright © 2025 by Allison Raskin.

Published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Photo Credit:  Stephanie Girard 

Allison Raskin is a New York Times bestselling author.

She is the cohost of the popular podcast Just Between Us and co-creator of a YouTube channel by the same name.

Allison has written and developed multiple TV shows and created the original scripted podcast Gossip.

A vocal mental health advocate, Allison has a master's degree in Psychology from Pepperdine University.

She also runs the mental health–focused Instagram account: @emotionalsupportlady.

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SOCIAL LINKS:

Author Website

Instagram

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BUY LINKS:

BookShop.org

HarperCollins

Barnes & Noble

Amazon

Books-A-Million

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