Kindle Edition Audiobook Amazon Linda Heavner Gerald, Author Linda Heavner Gerald Category:  Action/Thriller Publisher: Lime Pie Publishers ISBN-10:  1975601351 Type: Fiction Pages: 488 Copyright: August 2017 ISBN-13: 9781975601355 Price: $2.99 (eBook) There is no age for this book! If you have ever been bullied or have watched it happen to one whom you love, you "get it!" AnnaPolis Summers touches the heart of everyone, as it transports us back to the glory and pain of middle school! Have you ever been bullied? It just isn't right that a bully can make an innocent person miserable. There is no age for this book! If you have ever been bullied or have watched it happen to one whom you love, you "get it!" AnnaPolis Summers touches the heart of everyone, as it transports us back to the glory and pain of middle school! The story is told with love through sailing. If you are a sailor, you will love the humor and wit about this beloved sport and hobby. Maybe you have dreamed of "sailing away" on a beautiful yacht? Come sail away with the Polis family to the Chesapeake area! Bullying is wrong and must be stopped. Schools are not always aware of the abuse leveled against innocents. Students hesitate to talk about their problem. They may feel embarrassed. If only they could understand the problem is not theirs; it is the rude person who needs to feel superior. Talking about the situation can provide answers and support. Students should be aware that this problem exists for many. They can rise above it. One way is to band together with a small group. It can be harder to abuse a group than an individual. No one has the right to make another person's life unhappy. Many victims of bullying never recover from the darkness and pain. This tale is of Anna Polis, a wealthy girl who enjoys sailing on the family's yacht, Honey, each summer to Annapolis. The message is that all types are abused and must face the meanness of others. Anna is able, with the help of classmates, to weather the attacks. She even fulfills earlier dreams of greatness in her school. It is the next bully who almost destroys the young woman as she studies at Duke University. This foe is determined to end her life and all that she loves. Anna has a force on her side that even the vilest opponent can't conquer. Again, the young woman gains the love she almost lost. DON'T LET THEM WIN! You are better. Relax, understand that you are not alone, as you sail aboard the beautiful Honey to Annapolis with Anna Polis and her family.       Excerpt Great bolts of silver electricity discharge from the black summer sky, as the thunder shakes the very ground where I race in terror. Why I run in this storm is not clear? Even though it is a hot night, the rain feels cold. Am I in shock? A jagged streak of light strikes so closely that I fall to the ground. Now, I am paralyzed by anxiety. Soaked with the penetrating pins of sharp, beating rain, I cower onto my beloved beach. As the lightning again streaks across the sky with an accompanying ferocious boom, I turn to see my beautiful, ancestral beach home change into a blaze of fire. This bungalow is not just my home, the significance of this cottage is paramount in my mind and heart. It represents my struggle, as a young woman to live with the pain forced upon me by others. My bravery, in my fight for self-understanding, is expressed in this beach house. Not just the stinging rain hits my face, but tears of horrendous pain fill my eyes. How could this happen? As I watch my home on the beach burn quickly, since the rain has now subsided and the structure is old, I think of how my parents, Herbert and Abigail Polis, stood by me in my worst days. They were always there with hugs and kisses; they surrounded me with love and understanding. After the battle of my life, they gave me this little house as a place to heal from the war that I had endured. Many wars consumed my energy, as I fought throughout the long years of maturation; this is true for everyone. The realization that no one gets a “free ride” comes earlier for some than others. Still, I have managed to keep my humor. Middle school was the worst. Those were gut wrenching times! What happened to kindness and manners back then? Even my best friends struggled against me. “No, please God, not my home!” I yell into the night air. “Anna, wake up Honey. It is only a nightmare. I am here beside you. All is well.” Looking into eyes, the color of the bluest sky, a smile kisses my lips. When I met him over eighteen years ago, I thought this handsome stranger was the most beautiful man that I had ever met. He is more good-looking now that I understand the essence of him. His golden hair tumbles into those large, azure eyes. His beard is scratchy from not shaving yesterday. He is gorgeous! The love of my life shelters me in strong arms of devotion. He, too, has stood by me in the three major fights of my past thirty-five years. “Go back to sleep. All is well.” Yes, it is at last but not always. I snuggle again under the gauzy, white sheet which caresses us. My eyes take in the security of my room. The walls are lilac and bright white trim with filmy, satiny white sheers covering the many windows. During the day, this room is alive with color and light. I love this old house. I did much of the work here myself. These walls, I painted the pretty lilac and white colors. Now, that I understand the horror was only a nightmare; I breathe deeply the salty air which streams into the room from the open windows. Outside, the surf from the ocean pounds at my beloved beach. A silver moon smiles innocently at me through the thin sheers. No storms rage outside, not tonight, but they remain in my mind. Apparently, the nightmare has dredged up old memories which refuse to die. Just as a live bomb must be detonated, I must inactivate those monsters in my head. They are as pieces of shrapnel which inflict deliberate pain. My mind travels reluctantly back to the summer of pain and the awakening that my perfect life wasn’t perfect. I don’t want to go to the dark places again, but my thoughts refuse to obey. The nightmare has conjured old emotions that remain raw even now. - - - - - - The summer of my thirteenth year, while I was in middle school, started my first battle with angry, hateful people. Does anyone ever forget the pain of bullying? I haven’t. It seems like only yesterday that I, Anna Polis, learned the severity of hateful words and hurtful labels. I tried to ignore what they said, but couldn’t. I only pretended not to care. One time should have been enough but not for me. There were two other episodes of meanness lurking, as I matured into the woman of today. My childhood was idyllic at least in the beginning. Dad surrounded us with every luxury. Ellie, our maid, was like another mother to me. She is still. Due to three loving people to guide me, I can laugh now about what I endured. My sense of humor and wit spurs me on each day. You must find happiness to survive the days of darkness. It became easy for me to compartmentalize my mind. It is called survival! Savannah, my hometown, remains tucked into a recess of my heart which makes me smile. My heart and mind contain many compartments. I refer to these as “happy places.” Savannah, this home, even Annapolis, all of these sites now bring me joy. This coastal town continues to hold a piece of my heart even though I have moved away to another love by the coast. When I am away from my hometown, I miss the noble woman of a city. I know that Savannah is a woman because she has the name of a southern belle. She bursts with the fragrance of the sea, flowers, and freshness. As a young girl, I once stood on my balcony and breathed so deeply that my lungs hurt from over-expansion, but I didn’t mind. The delicious fragrances, which overtook my senses, caused dizziness. I clutched the wrought iron rail to my balcony and thanked God that I was born in the South. The light in Savannah is unlike any other place. Have you ever been to my hometown? You must visit her. You will refuse ever to leave. Savannah is a unique town. Her architecture flows with romance. Old, southern homes of soft, lazy colors cause weariness to depart the eyes of the beholder. Immediately, everyone desires to walk her wards and look at the old Gothic Revival homes. Gorgeous gardens beckon with deep emotion, so much that many trespassers perform acts which are totally unlike their usual behavior. Then, they are smitten with apologies. “I don’t know what possessed me to climb that six foot wrought iron fence. Honestly, I am not a pervert or a peeping Tom.” My hometown bestows forgiveness and acceptance. Smiles await the interloper who only wanted to smell the wisteria and sit on the charming bench among the honeysuckle and butterflies of that walled fence. No charges will the trespasser face because even after generations of such behavior, we understand. Our town is a mystic place, a Garden of Enchantment. My school, inside of this city of kooky people, was private. It was one of the most prestigious in the area. Although it sported wealthy brats, it was one of the best academies in the land! There was no bullying at my beloved institution. I can now say this because if there was ever a candidate to be abused, it was I. Yet, I always felt, as if I was loved and accepted by classmates who should have been judgmental and unkind. How blessed was I? You see, this city was Savannah. The Polis name received great respect in our chosen town of Savannah. My childhood home was large. Mom filled it with antiques of museum quality. I didn’t get all of the fuss, which she made. Personally, I liked some of my friend’s small homes; they felt livable. Abbey loved grandness, probably because she experienced poverty as a youngster. Herbert adored his Swan 45, Honey; Dad loved that sailboat more than me when I was a kid. I truly believe this. The personalities which shaped my younger years were extreme. I know this gave me the ability to endure great hurt and confusion later. The life of a wealthy kid, in a coastal town, revolved around boating. Most weekends, we spent on Honey. Those were great times! Summers, we spent in Annapolis. I loved both places. They were Sister Cities, but Savannah held my heart even now. Annapolis was my father’s love. Abigail didn’t care. She loved peace. Boating remained vital to my coastal life even today. My husband and I enjoy sailing. Dad gave his beloved Honey to us years ago. Sailing became too much work for my parents. The word “sailor” is more than enjoying a sport; it is a way of life. If you are one, you understand. Sailing is not complete without a certain book. I refer to Chapman. There are two very different schools of sailors. Some just enjoy the sport while others are fanatics. My dad, Herbert Polis, was a fanatic. He descended from a long line of sailing maniacs. In his book, there was only one way to enjoy what should have been relaxing and fun; be a perfectionist. I’m not kidding. He lived by Chapman while "enjoying" sailing. Have you ever looked at an edition of Chapman Piloting: Seamanship and Small Boat Handling? The long name should tell you something. It is a long book. I have not only looked at it, but I have also held it and read it cover to cover at least three times in my life. I’m not referring to a fast read. Oh, no, this book is a hard copy with six hundred and fifty-six pages of demanding information on everything a sailor should know. I’m talking from tying knots to what to do in a serious emergency. It saved my best friend’s life on one occasion. The book has been printed several times now offering sixty-seven editions. It is blue, big, and mean. My punishment, as a child for misbehaving, was “Go read Chapman, right now Anna, or go tie a Bowline knot fifteen times as quickly as is humanly possible.” Good old Chapman helped me nail that, Up through the rabbit hole, round the big tree; down through the rabbit hole and off goes he. This little rhyme was my favorite mnemonic. Then I was told which pages to consult in THE book if my assignment was to read. A test always followed. When good ole Dad determined that either I had not read the book, or that I had not retained “vital information,” I was sent again to digest and think about the importance of what I had read. Yes, I have read it so many times that I am an expert on sailing and everything nautical. Dad and I spent a long, hot summer, as he taught me each of the knots required to be an accomplished boatsman. I can now tie most any knot with grace and speed especially the ancient and essential Bowline which is easy to tie and untie. That same summer, Dad spent long hours demonstrating how to lasso a piling. This skill required practice to master the act. Something with which Chapman couldn’t assist me. I know this may sound ridiculous, but when you come barreling into a boat slip with the wind behind you and the current moving in the same direction, it can become difficult for a fast moving vessel, without a lot of control to do so gracefully. In fact, one may take out the boat unlucky enough to be a neighbor, or the piling which is there to protect both vessels. I, Anna Polis, practiced the skill to perfection. Although Dad and I did take out our share of expensive boats; it came with the territory. - - - - - - Tonight, sleepiness pulls at my mind, but I’m on a “roll” so to speak. No pun intended with the sailing stuff. Many joyful summer memories grab at me. - - - - - - Memories of Dad working on my boating skills so that we wouldn’t embarrass ourselves. There are some places like Annapolis that you would want to leave because you would be ashamed if you came in sideways. One particular day stands out in my mind. I always laugh. It had been a long day. Way too much sun and heat had caused exhaustion, plus we smelled pretty bad. I felt like asking if I could fly back home. Ellie thought that we weren’t aware that she invited her family from Guatemala each summer after we left. We knew. Her entire family enjoyed our home and pool. Probably, they tried to clean everything, but we knew. The lovely home, which we loved, was a wreck many times when we returned early. Dad almost had a heart attack on several occasions. He yelled at our poor maid. We were “wealthy but frugal” he declared. Only the wealthy get this. Herbert spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on yachts but would squabble over the dinner bill. "We need to respect the things that I worked hard to obtain," he had screamed at scared Ellie, as she cowered behind the stack of used pink plastic cups from her family now stacked on the kitchen counter. I remember thinking that staying with Ellie and the Guatemalans, as they enjoyed the pool, seemed better than stuck on a hot boat when we entered one of the most prestigious marinas on the Intracoastal. Dad was grumpy already on that day long ago, as we shamed ourselves. I noticed that all of the boat owners, in the vicinity of our assigned slip, held boat hooks in their hands, as we entered the prestigious marina. That is not a good sign. Looks of anger attested to the fact that they were ready to assault us if the “cowgirl” (Dad’s term for me to lasso a piling to save our boat) failed. Not only did I fail, but we also hit the piling, and the beautiful Camper Nicholson moored beside us. The distraught owner, Mr. Ruffin, ran toward us in tears. I heard a lot of expletives, but I will never forget witnessing a grown man standing there in front of God and all the people who bowed in shame at the “disgraced family” who “destroyed” the marina. For days, no one spoke to us. The dock master would snicker each time he saw us. It was pretty awful. Finally, I couldn’t take the abuse anymore, “Look, we are qualified yachters. I have personally read Chapman twenty-three times. My dad is a fanatic. The wind worked against us. Man, it was awful. My father instantly paid all damages, and provided his insurance card to Mr. Ruffin who by the way finally stopped crying after three days. Please forgive us. It was an accident.” I looked most contrite, as I lowered my head. People turned and walked away. I think that they realized that no one had ever read the illustriously mentioned book twenty-three times, so I was now labeled a “terrible boatsman” and “liar.” At least, I stopped the snickering. We couldn’t wait to get away from the anger which assaulted us. Ah, boating in Annapolis, what can I say? Today, I have a copy of Chapman in my office, bedroom, study, and my sailing boat. There’s just something about it. Once you understand the importance of what the book is all about; it is undeniably brilliant. I always pick that book up with such love and respect. Dad requests burial with a copy clinched in his blue, withered hands. All of this demonstrates how happy we once had been as a family. As I look back, those were the days of innocence before the Vanderclifts and the days of abuse for me began. Time aboard Honey wasn’t all glamor. Once, we suffered a gas leak on one of our boats; it took two days for Dad and Mom to have it checked out. In the meantime, I suffered from trouble breathing and severe headaches. Extreme nausea prevented me from eating a bite for several days. The leak had occurred in the forward berth where I resided. All of this because Dad didn't want to interrupt our plans to meet friends in St. Michaels. That was Herbert's second favorite city on earth. When they finally believed me, about the leak, I declared that I was almost dead. You see why boating isn’t necessarily easy? Each summer season, we closed the house as we exited for our Sailing Adventures. We stored all of our memories in a large, navy, leather-bound book with gold letters boldly declaring these words: SAILING ADVENTURES. - - - - - - This evening, I lovingly hold that journal in my hands. The pages have yellowed and the color faded, but it remains precious to me. Randomly, I open the old book. The page which presents itself is of me standing on Honey. I grimace. Was I that homely? Lovingly, I outline the girl with my finger. Her long, stringy hair hangs over eyes shielded by thick, unattractive glasses. At least, the ugly hair covered my face which displayed large, red zits. My bulbous nose appeared deformed due to the fat size which covered half of my face. People describe me today as beautiful. Long, dark hair with glowing dark eyes greet me each day from my mirror. Beautiful? Me? Golden skin, the color of molasses, is pleasing. The pleasure of living by my beloved ocean produces the change from the pasty, white skin which once covered my frame. Walking, each day by the sea, keeps me thin and agile. As I breathe the salty air and watch God’s handiwork, I remain young and focused. Even my fat nose seems attractive since it now blends perfectly with the size of my face.

5-Stars!
5.0 out of 5 stars'I am paralyzed by anxiety. Soaked with the penetrating pins of sharp, beating rain, I cower onto my beloved beach.'
ByGrady HarpHALL OF FAMETOP 500 REVIEWERon September 4, 2017
Format: Kindle Edition|Verified Purchase
Florida author Linda Heavner Gerald has retired from her medical background and is living and writing along the Gulf of Mexico. She has already established a solid reputation as a writer of eight mystery thrillers, winning awards both in this country and abroad. Linda's keen eye for evil in her books is matched by her conviction that 'regardless of our actions, God is always ready to welcome us back with forgiveness.' Rather than simply titillate her readers with superbly terrifying stories and psychological drama she offers a bit of a rainbow at the end - a sense of hope or encouragement for the characters of her books. Yet in ANNAPOLIS SUMMERS Linda turns her penetrating eye to the act of bullying as the theme - sustaining and surviving bullies in a story that is rich in color and the fine settings for which she is becoming highly respected.

Linda's ability to paint a setting for a novel grows with each of her books. In this strange story she manages to capture the mindset of a person who has known bullying and allows us entry into the formative aspects of that crime. 'The summer of my thirteenth year, while I was in middle school, started my first battle with angry, hateful people. Does anyone ever forget the pain of bullying? I haven't. It seems like only yesterday that I, Anna Polis, learned the severity of hateful words and hurtful labels. I tried to ignore what they said, but couldn't. I only pretended not to care. One time should have been enough but not for me. There were two other episodes of meanness lurking, as I matured into the woman of today. My childhood was idyllic at least in the beginning. Dad surrounded us with every luxury. Ellie, our maid, was like another mother to me. She is still. Due to three loving people to guide me, I can laugh now about what I endured. My sense of humor and wit spurs me on each day. You must find happiness to survive the days of darkness. It became easy for me to compartmentalize my mind. It is called survival! Savannah, my hometown, remains tucked into a recess of my heart which makes me smile. My heart and mind contain many compartments. I refer to these as "happy places." Savannah, this home, even Annapolis, all of these sites now bring me joy. This coastal town continues to hold a piece of my heart even though I have moved away to another love by the coast. When I am away from my hometown, I miss the noble woman of a city. I know that Savannah is a woman because she has the name of a southern belle. She bursts with the fragrance of the sea, flowers, and freshness. As a young girl, I once stood on my balcony and breathed so deeply that my lungs hurt from over-expansion, but I didn't mind. The delicious fragrances, which overtook my senses, caused dizziness. I clutched the wrought iron rail to my balcony and thanked God that I was born in the South.'

The synopsis of this meaningful exploration as offered by the author follows - 'No one has the right to make another person's life unhappy. Many victims of bullying never recover from the darkness and pain. This tale is of Anna Polis, a wealthy girl who enjoys sailing on the family's yacht, Honey, each summer to Annapolis. The message is that all types are abused and must face the meanness of others. Anna is able, with the help of classmates, to weather the attacks. She even fulfills earlier dreams of greatness in her school. It is the next bully who almost destroys the young woman as she studies at Duke University. This foe is determined to end her life and all that she loves. Anna has a force on her side that even the vilest opponent can't conquer. Again, the young woman gains the love she almost lost.'

This is a novel with a strong message for all ages so eloquently written that it becomes obvious that we are in the presence of a very fine author indeed. Grady Harp, September 17

5-Stars
5.0 out of 5 starsCould not put book down
ByAmazon Customeron September 5, 2017
Format: Kindle Edition|Verified Purchase
This book had believable characters, Miss Linda's writing made me feel the pain that the characters had. Life of a child growing into womanhood. I could relate to the characters. We have all felt shame, betrayal and loneliness..And one surprise in the book teaches how to live.

A Book That Actually Gives Someone The Chance To See How Bullying Actually Affects Someone
Annapolis Summer by Linda Heavner Gerald is a wonderfully written book dealing with the issue of bullying. The main character, Anna Polis, allows us to feel her fear, anger, and raw emotions as she traverses through her years beginning at the age of 13. She allows us to see inside her life as she deals with hateful people, betrayal, adolescence, and disease. I found the plot and storyline drew me deeper to the point of not being able to take a break until I had finished the book. In my opinion, any parent, person dealing with bullying, or counselors of individuals dealing with bullying issues should read/refer this book. Linda has delivered a wonderful story.