Hope Never Dies: An Obama Biden Mystery

By Andrew Shaffer

The New York Times Best Seller

"[Hope Never Dies is] an escapist fantasy that will likely appeal to liberals pining for the previous administration, longing for the Obama-Biden team to emerge from political retirement as action heroes."—Alexandra Alter, New York Times

Vice President Joe Biden and President Barack Obama team up in this high-stakes thriller that combines a mystery worthy of Watson and Holmes with the laugh-out-loud bromantic chemistry of Lethal Weapon’s Murtaugh and Riggs.

Vice President Joe Biden is fresh out of the Obama White House and feeling adrift when his favorite railroad conductor dies in a suspicious accident, leaving behind an ailing wife and a trail of clues. To unravel the mystery, “Amtrak Joe” re-teams with the only man he’s ever fully trusted: the 44th president of the United States. Together they’ll plumb the darkest corners of Delaware, traveling from cheap motels to biker bars and beyond, as they uncover the sinister forces advancing America’s opioid epidemic.

Part noir thriller and part bromance, Hope Never Dies is essentially the first published work of Obama/Biden fiction—and a cathartic read for anyone distressed by the current state of affairs.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Quirk Books
• Release date: Jul 10, 2018
• ISBN: 9781683690405

Andrew Shaffer

Andrew Shaffer is the New York Times bestselling author of the essential survival guide, How to Survive a Sharknado and Other Unnatural Disasters, and the Goodreads Choice semifinalist Fifty Shames of Earl Grey.He has appeared as a guest on FOX News, CBS, and NPR, and has been published in Mental Floss, The Philosophers' Magazine, and Maxim. He has professionally reviewed romance, erotica, and women's fiction for RT Book Reviews magazine.He writes in multiple genres, including humor, science fiction, horror, and literary nonfiction.Shaffer attended the Iowa Writers’ Workshop for a summer semester and studied comedy writing at Chicago's The Second City. An Iowa native, Shaffer lives in Louisville with his wife, novelist Tiffany Reisz.

Book preview

Author

1

The night this all started, I was in a black Irish mood.

And that was before I learned my friend was dead.

I was sitting at my computer, and I’d stumbled across one of those so-called paparazzi videos. It opened with a wide shot of Cape Town’s fabled Table Mountain. The camera panned down to the white-capped waves in the harbor. An impossibly long speedboat entered the frame, cutting through the surf like a buttered bullet. A parasailor trailed behind the boat, high in the sky, tethered to the stern by a thin rope. The camera zoomed in on the daredevil’s face, and I saw that my old friend Barack Obama was having the time of his life.

Unencumbered by his dead-weight loser vice president, 44 was on the vacation to end all vacations. Windsurfing on Richard Branson’s private island. Kayaking with Justin Trudeau. BASE jumping in Hong Kong with Bradley Cooper. Barack wasn’t simply tempting the fates—he was daring them. And why not? If he could survive eight long years as the first black US president, he could survive anything.

Not that I was worried about him.

I was done getting all worked up over Barack Obama.

I forced myself to look away from the computer. I turned to face the dartboard on the back wall of my office. It was an old Christmas gift from my daughter. I’d kept it in storage for many years, but now I finally had some free time on my hands.

Maybe too much free time.

One call, I said to my faithful companion, Champ. Is that too much to ask?

The dog glanced up with indifference. He’d heard it all before.

Just one phone call, I said.

With a snap of the wrist, I sent the dart sailing across the room. It hit its mark, right between Bradley Cooper’s piercing blue eyes.

Eight years. I plucked the darts from the shredded magazine cover taped to the board. And not even a gosh-darned postcard.

Barack even had the gall to tell People magazine that we still went golfing together on occasion. To save face, I repeated the lie. The truth was, there hadn’t been any golf outings. No late-night texting. Not even a friendly poke on Facebook.

I watched the skies for smoke signals; I read the New York Times, dissecting headlines, looking for clues he might have left me. Nothing. Sometimes late at night, after Jill was sound asleep, I scrolled through the old text messages Barack and I had exchanged a lifetime ago. It was an exercise in futility. If I kept picking at the wound, it was never going to heal.

In the darkness outside my office window, I glimpsed a tiny flickering light.

I turned off my desk lamp to get a better look, and there it was again: a pinprick of orange light, like a firefly…or a cigarette.

A prowler? Maybe.

Only one way to find out.

Let’s go, Champ.

The dog’s ears perked up. I spun the dial on the small closet safe. There were two things inside: my Medal of Freedom…and my SIG Sauer pistol. The bean shooter was a gift I’d bought for myself, in spite of Jill’s objections. Aren’t your shotguns enough? she’d asked. What on earth could you need a handgun for?

For times like this, Jill.

I slipped the pistol into the waistband at the small of my back, then tucked my polo shirt over it.

I called to my wife, I’m letting Champ out. She didn’t answer back. I could hear the TV playing in our bedroom. Law and Order. I should have been watching with her. Instead I opened the back door.

As soon as I did, Champ raced across the lawn and tore off into the woods. The motion light over the back porch should have kicked on, but the bulb was burnt out.

It was an old one, I guess.

Old bulbs were meant to burn out.

The moon was full enough to light up the backyard. Our 7,000-square-foot lake house sat on four acres of property. Late at night, it was possible to imagine you were all alone in the world.

Tonight, however, I wasn’t alone.

Ahead in the woods was that pinprick of light.

And now I smelled tobacco, a familiar brand.

Marlboro Reds.

Don’t get your hopes up, I told myself. Hope is just a four-letter word.

I crossed the yard, walking to the spot where Champ had disappeared into the trees. At the edge of the clearing, I spied a vertically challenged man in a dark gray suit and matching tie. He had short, spiky hair, like he’d recently been discharged from the Marines and was letting it grow out. An earpiece wire disappeared into his collar. Secret Service.

My heart was beating faster than a dog licking a dish.

My own security detail had been dismissed several weeks earlier. Vice presidents were granted six months of protection following their time in office and not a day more unless there were extenuating circumstances.

Nice night for a walk, I said.

Secret Service nodded toward the woods, showing me the way. I ducked under a low-hanging branch and kept walking. The heavy foliage overhead diffused the moonlight. I had to tread carefully to avoid the underbrush. The smell of burning tobacco grew stronger. I called for Champ.

In response, I heard flint striking metal. A lighter, close by.

I swiveled around. There. To my left, by the big oak. Ten paces away. A man crouched low, scratching Champ behind the ears. German shepherds don’t take to strangers, but this man was no stranger.

He rose to his feet, a slim figure in his black hand-tailored suit. His white dress shirt was unbuttoned at the neck. He took a long drag off his cigarette and exhaled smoke with leisure.

Barack Obama was never in a hurry.

2

I offered a handshake. Barack turned it into a fist bump. It was a greeting I’d never been able to master, but I gave it my best shot.

Barack smirked. Just like old times.

Thought you quit smoking, I said.

He took another long drag off his cigarette. I did.

I wiped my brow. It had been an unusually hot and humid summer. In the past couple of years, I’d become more sensitive to temperature extremes. I was either too hot or too cold. Never comfortable.

It’s been a while, he said.

Has it? I asked, tracing a circle in the dirt with my foot.

You keeping busy?

I’ve been laying tile in the master bath.

Barack laughed. If I’d known Jill was putting you to work, I’d have dropped by sooner. Michelle wants granite countertops, and I don’t even know where to start.

I’m sure Bradley Cooper could help.

You saw those pictures, huh?

Everybody saw them.

Well, you know me. Laying low was never my style.

I grunted a response.

He put out his cigarette on a tree. I’m sure Jill’s waiting, so I’ll get right to the point. He returned the extinguished butt to his pack of Marlboros. Even when he was smoking, he was still a Boy Scout. There’s been an incident I think you should know about.

Of course. Now it all made sense. Barack wasn’t here to rekindle our friendship. He was here on business.

An incident, I repeated.

Does the name Finn Donnelly ring any bells?

Of course it did. Anybody who rode the Wilmington to DC line knew Finn Donnelly. He’s an Amtrak conductor, I said. The finest one I know.

He was hit by a train this morning. I’m sorry, Joe.

The news struck me in the chest like an open-field tackle. I tried to speak, but the words caught in my throat. Barack said something else, but I’d stopped hearing him.

There was a time I’d seen Finn every day. Back when I was commuting to and from the Senate. We’d traveled thousands of miles together. After I became vice president, riding Amtrak was too challenging—too many Secret Service agents and security protocols. I’d only seen Finn once since the election, in passing. I’d spent the last few weeks thinking I ought to reach out to him, maybe try to catch up, but now…

Barack put a hand on my shoulder, steadying me. I had a hunch you knew him. I wanted to tell you myself, before you heard from somewhere else.

He told me everything the Wilmington PD had learned about the accident. Finn hadn’t reported for work in the morning, and by the time a replacement conductor was found, the 7:46 a.m. Acela was a half hour behind schedule. While rounding a corner on the way out of town, the engineer spotted somebody lying on the tracks. At the speed the train was going, there was no safe way to avoid a collision.

Why didn’t he move? I asked.

Could be he suffered a heart attack, or some other medical emergency. The state medical examiner couldn’t tell, based on the condition of the body. They’re running some blood samples. It’s going to take time before we know more.

It was unbelievable. Preposterous. I’d known Finn better than most of my fellow committee members on Capitol Hill. I knew his favorite singer was Michael Jackson—even after all the hoopla, Finn stuck by his man. I knew he was a Patriots fan—through all the hoopla with them as well. I also knew Finn had a wife, and a little girl, Grace. Finn had been a decade younger than me, and close to retirement age (or what used to pass for retirement age). His girl wasn’t so little now. She was probably just starting college.

And now her father was dead.

The police found something, Barack said, holding out a piece of paper.

It was a full-page black-and-white printout of an online map, with a familiar address punched into the search bar. The cold steel in my waistband sent a shiver up my spine. The house I shared with my wife was identified by a little dot in the center of the page.

Where did they find this?

He had a desk on the train. Wilmington PD thought maybe the guy was stalking you. They reached out to Secret Service, who explained you were not their problem anymore.

Not their problem, I said with a chortle.

In about as many words.

So, what, they fob it off on the FBI?

Barack nodded. And the FBI said it sounded like a Secret Service problem. After another back-and-forth, someone who used to work in the presidential detail reached me through one of my current agents. They thought I might have your number, I guess. I said I’d let you know myself, to see what you wanted to do. If anything.

That was the world we lived in now. Nobody wanted to take responsibility for anything anymore. Not even inside the highest levels of government.

Especially inside the highest levels of government.

You could have called.

Barack shrugged. It was a nice night for a drive.

You also could have rung the doorbell.

I was thinking about it, he said.

Well, let us know you’re coming next time, and we’ll have a cold beer waiting.

I refolded the map and tried to give it back.

That’s a copy. Keep it.

I glanced back at the master bedroom window, where the TV was flickering. The thought that Finn would ever stalk me was beyond ludicrous. Still…Is there any indication Finn was part of…something larger?

Barack shook his head. Not ISIL, if that’s what you’re asking. The Service ran him through all the databases. Not a single red flag. No recent weapons purchases.

Are there any reporters on this thing?

The accident—yes. The rest of the story—no. The police are sitting on the case until they hear from Steve.

Steve?

You passed him at the edge of the woods.

Secret Service, I said. Friendly guy.

Barack shrugged. He gets the job done.

Champ trotted to my side. I scratched him behind the ears. Who else knows about the map?

An engineer turned it in to the cops, so it’s passed through a couple of hands, Barack said. There’s a lieutenant working as the point person. Her detectives have started legwork on the case already. Plus two or three guys in the Service know. Too many people to make this thing disappear, if that’s what you’re thinking.

That is what I had been thinking, and Barack could see it on my face.

What about his family? I asked.

They’re planning the funeral. We’ve left them in the dark about everything.

Let’s keep it that way, at least for now, I said. I’m not asking for a cover-up. Just a little discretion. They don’t need this. Let them make their peace first.

If we hint that there’s a national security interest at stake here, we can stop it from spilling into the papers. At least until after the funeral. In the meantime…

Yeah?

You should look into getting some private security. I just walked right up to your house. Your backyard motion light was out, too. He tossed a lightbulb to me. You really ought to replace this with a compact fluorescent or an LED. They cost more up front but pay for themselves after just a few years.

Thanks, I said.

I turned back to my house, then paused. The old bulb was, of course, from the motion light on the back porch. Of that much I was sure.

However, the socket was more than twelve feet above the porch. You couldn’t reach it without a ladder. Wait, how did you…

I glanced over my shoulder, but no one was there. Barack had disappeared back into the inky darkness, same as he’d come, leaving nothing behind but the stale smell of smoke.

3

Didn’t hear you come to bed last night, Jill said.

I stumbled into the kitchen around half past nine, weary from a night of bad sleep. My mind had been on fire with questions about Finn Donnelly. Every time I finally started to drift off, some little noise outside would startle me awake. Several times, I wondered if I hadn’t dreamed my entire encounter with Barack Obama.

The lingering scent of tobacco in my hair said otherwise.

Meanwhile, Jill looked beautiful and well-rested as always. She’d been up for who knew how many hours in the sunroom, enjoying her e-reader. She used to read paperbacks, the small kind they sold in grocery stores. Harlequins. A couple of years back, she’d switched to electronic books. Said she liked being able to adjust the size of the type, even though she missed all the shirtless men on the book covers. I could laugh along with this little joke, because I certainly didn’t feel threatened. See, your Uncle Joe had something those men would never have: a Presidential Medal of Freedom.

You fell asleep to the TV, I reminded her. I didn’t want to wake you.

She’d set out coffee and breakfast. The coffee was cold.

Hmmmm, she said. She didn’t glance up from her bodice ripper. Jill didn’t know anything about Barack’s visit, as far as I knew. I didn’t plan on telling her that he’d stopped over. It was just better that way.

The morning paper was on the table. The above-the-fold story on the front page of the News Journal was much ado about nothing, as usual. More White House drama. The current administration knew how to do one thing right: If you wanted to push through an unpopular agenda with minimal resistance, distract the bastards. Do something every day to grab the headlines—something big, bold, and preferably stupid—thereby banishing the dull stories about how you were systematically dismantling the country to the back pages with the Hagar comics.

I flipped through the paper, pretending to read the headlines and a paragraph or two of each story.

Have you thought any more about the CPAP machine? Jill asked.

No, I said, dodging the question for the umpteenth time. My doctor had diagnosed me with mild sleep apnea. It could lead to sleep deprivation, which could explain why I’d been waking up later and later in the mornings. My doc had recommended a complicated gizmo that forced air up my nose while I slept. She showed me one of the devices in her office. It looked and sounded like Darth Vader’s mask.

I returned to the newspaper. There was a small write-up on the train accident on the front page of the Local section, under the byline of the News Journal‘s crime beat reporter:

MAN KILLED IN AMTRAK ACCIDENT

WILMINGTON, DE—A man was struck and killed by an Amtrak passenger train approximately a mile from Wilmington Station around 8:23 a.m. Wednesday morning.

Wilmington police identified the man as Finn Donnelly, 63, of Wilmington, Del. According to Amtrak officials, Donnelly was an Amtrak conductor but was off duty at the time of the incident. No passengers were injured.

All inbound and outbound trains were halted Wednesday morning as local authorities investigated. The National Transportation Safety Board has announced its own investigation into the matter, a routine procedure for all railroad accidents involving loss of life.

No further details were immediately available.

No mention of the map.

And no mention of Delaware’s favorite son, Joseph R. Biden Jr.

I flipped to the obituaries. Finn’s funeral was Friday. Tomorrow. They used to wait a couple of days before dumping you in the ground. These days, it seemed like they wanted to shuffle you off this mortal coil before your body was even cool.

I excused myself from the breakfast table. Champ followed me to my office, where I closed the door halfway—just enough to give me a warning if Jill busted in on me.

The News Journal‘s story hadn’t been updated online. Somehow Barack had managed to keep the lurid details under wraps…for now.

I didn’t expect to hear from him again. We’d had a great run together in office, but Barack had moved on to bigger and better things. He was too big for one country. He was too big for one best friend. He belonged to the world now. I told myself I was happy for him. But if that was really true, why couldn’t I shake the feeling that I’d been dumped the day after graduation?

There was a knock at my office door. Champ’s head perked up. Jill had changed out of her robe and into her black jogging pants and a Race for the Cure tee.

I’m heading out for a run, she said.

Champ didn’t move. He was too much like me—a walker at heart. Especially when the weather outside was as nasty as the devil’s armpit.

For a split second, I considered telling my wife about Finn’s accident. I couldn’t remember if she’d ever met him, though, and there was no sense ruining her morning jog with such grim news. It could wait until she got back.

Break a leg, I told her.

You’re always welcome to join me.

I waved goodbye, and she blew me a kiss.

Jill ran five miles every day, averaging nine and a half minutes a mile. I was more of a fourteen-minute-mile-on-a-treadmill sort of guy. Lately I’d been slowing down my pace. Sometimes I’d quit early because I felt out of breath.

My doc said I was healthier than ninety percent of guys my age. Why didn’t I feel it?

What do you think, Champ? Should we go downstairs and walk a couple miles?

He stared blankly at me. Some dogs can run on treadmills, but Champ wasn’t one of them.

I tied on my running shoes. Normally, I’d use my time on the treadmill to think through whatever was troubling me. Getting the legs moving supposedly has a synergistic effect with brain synapses (that’s what Malcolm Gladwell told me once). Today, however, I planned to watch some TV and zone out. I didn’t need to think through my troubles, because I’d already decided on

Reviews for Hope Never Dies

[lyndainoregon · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The "all-girls filling station" turns out not to be the main point of this big-hearted novel, which is actually two stories in one -- discovering who you are and what it means, juxtaposed with a loving tribute to the WASP flyers of WWII.

[dmturner · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Readable, sweet, novel about a Southern woman's search for family, interspersed with the wartime narrative of her birth mother's life and the adventures of the WASP flyers in World War II.

[bobvtreader · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Ms Flagg uses the same Template for all of her book sometimes with greater success than others. This falls in the better category though the title is a bit of a red herring as the tale is more about the WASPs. A good store that captures the time leading up to WW II and the women ho shuttled the planes. A good read.

[bookconcierge · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Mrs Earle Poole Jr – Sookie to her family and friends – is having her usual challenges. The blue jays are monopolizing the feeders, leaving the little birds without sustenance. At least she’s managed to get her third daughter safely married and off on her honeymoon, so maybe now Sookie can rest for a bit. Well, except for managing her mother, Lenore, who is as wacky and demanding as ever. Sookie can’t seem to live up to her mother’s expectations that she “behave like a Simmons” – polishing the family silver weekly, attending the right club meetings, dressing appropriately, and tending to the graves of her ancestors. You’d think a 59-year-old married woman, with grown children, could stand up to her own mother, but Sookie has been trained to be accommodating. So she dutifully handles Lenore’s affairs – from paying the bills to hiring a nurse. Until the day Sookie opens a registered letter addressed to Lenore from the Texas Board of Health, and her whole world is turned upside down.

What a delightful read! I just fell in love with Sookie, and enjoyed going along on her journey of self-discovery. Are the characters eccentric? Yes, of course. You might even say some are over-the-top. But Flagg never lets the minor characters take over the plot; rather, they add color and provide a framework for Sookie’s story. Whatever the situation, Sookie’s reactions are very real and understandable. Anyone would be thrown for a loop after receiving such a shock. What’s so fun about the book is watching her come to grips with what she has learned, figuring out how to cope, exploring her options, and growing into an even better version of the person she has always been – kind, tenderhearted, courageous, inventive, giving, steady and loving.

I also really enjoyed the historical background and storyline set in the WW2 era and exploring the women who flew planes for the Army Air Corps with little fanfare or even recognition. I liked Fritzi and her sisters, and the descriptions of the gas station had me waxing nostalgic for my father’s auto-parts business; I still love the smell of rubber and oil because it brings back memories of being with my Daddy at the store.

I’ve been a fan of Fannie Flagg’s for some time, and I think this is one of her best books.

[jcgirl-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The All-Girl Filling Station's Last Reunion by Fannie Flagg charmingly weaves a present day story with the flashbacks of World War II. The main character Mrs. Sookie Poole navigates the reader as she begins to recline from the stress of her life and just starting to enjoy the days ahead. Until one day she learns of a family secret that her mother, Lenore Simmons Krackenberry has been keeping for far too long and so begins a quest to find out who Sookie and her family are. So begins a road trip through the past discovering details about her family she never realized, as she comes to learn about a woman named Fritz. Does Sookie find a unique path for her life after her long journey from family revelations? You have to read the book to know, but Fannie Flagg does an incredible job of showing the reader how the events of the past can and will make the road to the future for the next generation.

[briandrewz · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Another good book by a veteran storyteller. Fannie Flagg once again provides us with pure entertainment. The story intertwines with that of the WASPs. It sheds light on some of those brave women who flew airplanes in WWII. Really good light-hearted reading.

[limelite_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

One of life's small pleasures has got to be listening to Fannie Flagg narrate her own novel. Having "read" the audio version of this book mostly while driving the roads of north Georgia, I needed little else to make the time pass delightfully other than a thermos of sweet tea. Surely, there can be no woman in literature that one so loves to hate than Lenore Simmons of Point Clear, AL, who treats her grown daughter, Sukey, like a child and her community like her empire.This is no time for plot summary except to say the book features blue jays, barnstormers, Great Danes, kind neighbors, Polish ancestors, fly-girls, psychiatrists, and WWII simmering together to make a savory stew of a read. Flagg's technique of combining parallel plots from two different time periods and locales -- the present in AL and WWII era in WI -- works well to reveal the mysteries and secrets of identity that are at the core of the novel."Filling Station" is not merely about one woman's efforts to free herself from her mother's domination, it's not merely about discovering one's roots and true self, nor is it merely about the dynamics of functional and non-functional families, and it's not merely about overcoming life's defeats and reveling in its triumphs. It is also a celebration of the little known, unacknowledged, and practically forgotten contributions of the "All-Women Airforce Service Pilots' Unheralded Heroism."Flagg's achievement in this novel is managing to produce a highly entertaining largely domestic tale that also delivers an eye-opening history lesson in the bravery of an entirely voluntary and ignored-by-authority division of fearless female pilots who ferried newly manufactured planes of all types from their factories to various destinations across the United States (and Alaska Territory) prior to them being shipped to the European and Pacific fronts. More than a few of these women pilots lost their lives in service to the war effort, but neither they nor their families received full military pay [WASPs received 65% of what their male counterparts were paid.], death benefits, or even a polite nod in their direction for their sacrifice.The reader will become enthralled with eccentric personalities, human warmth, and rollicking action as Sara Jane's (Sukey) story unfolds under layers of Southern charm. By the end of the novel, even Lenore's true character emerges to shine in a different light. Some may be annoyed by the at times treacly story and find the unambiguous ending too neatly wrapped. But discovering a novel of such diversity and broad appeal that is as skillfully written will be as difficult an udertaking as spotting a June bug under a Christmas tree.

[cygnet81 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Dragged in the middle. Needed a good edit but I like the story.

[gittel_7 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The heart of this book, and what it makes it a really worthwhile read - is the story of the WASPS - the women who trained as pilots and ferried planes around the country during WWII. It was decades before they got the credit and recognition they deserved.
I never knew of this awesome group of women, and Fannie Flagg introduced them in a way that was delightful and spunky.

Also, nobody does Southern women in all their strength and zany affectations like Flagg. The modern-day characters are painted in broad vivd strokes, and this book is like taking a trip to Alabama.

A quick worthwhile read (I read it in two afternoons, and I'm a slow reader)If you've never read Fannie Flag, but saw the movie "Fried Green Tomatoes" this is a great book to start with.

[deltaqueen50 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The All-Girl Filling Station’s Last Reunion by Fannie Flagg is a cozy, gentle story about family, caring, and learning about yourself told in the author’s warm, folksy manner that draws the reader into her heart-felt stories. Sookie Poole is a warm-hearted, generous yet timid woman who tries her best to satisfy her family and live up to her overbearing mother’s expectations. She has been raised to honor her Southern roots so she is thrown for a loop when she discovers that she was adopted as a baby, and her real background appears to be a Polish-American family from Wisconsin.Over the course of the book, Sookie slowly discovers more about her birth background and in doing so discovers that her adventurous relatives include four sisters who ran a filling station and flew planes during World War II. The story opens up into a history of the Woman’s Airforce Service Pilots (WASPS) who flew non-combat flight missions and were the first women to fly military planes in America.With plenty of plot twists, humor, adventure, heartbreak and family loyalty, The All-Girl Filling Station’s Last Reunion was an interesting, joyful and comforting read.

[quondame · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A good, pull you straight through read. Whether in a small coastal Alabama town this century or in WWII Wisconsin, or with the WASPs in Texas, this has strong women living their choices. The ending could have been wrapped up in a third the pages, but hey, there had be the reunion, and the final wedding to close the parentheses.

[nwieme-1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

LOVED IT! A little history mixed into a great story! Didn't think this could live up to "Fried Green Tomatoes" but it did and THEN SOME!!

[sarahlouise_1 · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

It's not the book's fault, or Fannie Flagg's fault. I just can't get into her books!

[auntie0nanuuq · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

What can I say.... I expected more. The first chapters were so boring that I almost put the book down, then I happened upon Fritzi and her learning to fly. Then the book mostly turned around.

But here's the thing I really didn't care about Sookie or her family, I liked the Fritzi & her family and that is what kept me reading.

Sookie inadvertently finds out that the woman who she has known as her mother had adopted her..... However, since Lenore always bullied Sookie, hoping Sookie would be someone/something she wasn't; Sookie puts off telling Leoner that she knows.

Meanwhile every-other chapter was about Fritzi, her family and the history of the WASPS, and I found those chapters delightful and very interesting.

The coming together of Sookie & Fritzi was interesting but a bit of a let down.

[gwendydd · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This was exactly what I expected from a Fannie Flagg novel. There are two interconnected storylines: in one, Sookie is a middle-aged Southern housewife who suddenly discovers she is adopted, and tries to deal with her new identity and her narcissistic mother. In another storyline, we learn about her birth family, including a group of sisters who ran a filling station and flew with the WASPS in WWII. Both storylines are charming and funny, and Sookie's sweet malleability is contrasted with her ancestors' spunk and rebelliousness. Ultimately, there is a happily sappy ending, and we see how the older women's feminism paved the way for Sookie's self-discovery.Total fluff, but totally enjoyable.

[headinherbooks_27 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This story was really slow for me and because of that I had to stop and not finish it. I've read others reviews saying this book is exciting especially with the twists and turns but I couldn't seem to find that point. I've already read half the book and the author is just stretching the story out to make it longer (too wordy) and nothing exciting is really happening. It seems like she's waiting to the very end to announce all the exciting tidbits. Also I didn't care so much about the present story. I thought Sookie and Lenore was annoying and they drove me nuts. But I did enjoy the past story a lot and because of that I might (maybe) in the future pick this up again and give this story another chance.

[pennsylady · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I heard this book in audio (read by the author, Fannie Flagg)...what a delightful story!Mrs. Earle (Sookie Karackenberry) Poole Jr (protagonist) encounters the WW2 history of the Jurdabralinski sisters of the Polish family all girl filling station from Wisconsin.The is an endearing tale linking WW2 with the present.As usual, Fannie Flagg's warmth, humor and sincerity make this tale a pleasure to read.It was also a tribute to Women Airforce Service Pilots (WASP) (a paramilitary aviation organization}, employed to fly military aircraft under the direction of the United States Army Air Forces during World War II.....elements of easily readable historical fiction.

[ajlewis2_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

For the first third of the book I felt it was just a goofy story. It is humorous with the strange names and crazy personalities. Then the story became interesting to me. There was a very serious story told in a humorous way. A 60 year old woman finds her real roots and her own personality after living most of her life trying to be who her mother wanted her to be. A second story line is of 4 sisters, 3 of whom become pilots during WWII, WASPS as they were known. Naturally there is a connection between the story lines.

Fannie Flagg's style is new to me. I feel quite an impact from a book that I initially thought was just too goofy to continue reading, but which had hooked me into wanting to see where the story would go. I was not disappointed.

[gypsysmom_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This delightful audiobook was narrated by the author, Fannie Flagg, and I loved every minute of it. I’ve read a few of Flagg’s books but never listened to one before. I suspect this won’t be the last I listen to especially if Fannie reads them herself. Sukie Poole lives across the bay from Mobile, Alabama in Point Clear where she has spent almost her entire 60 years of life. She knows she was born in Texas but since she left there as an infant she has no memories of it. When she gets a call from the Texas Board of Health for her mother, Lenore, she is a little alarmed. Lenore has a tendency to get into confrontations with officials and Sukie’s first thought is that Lenore is being sued. The man who is on the telephone cannot tell Sukie much more than that she will be getting a packet of papers but that it isn’t a law suit. When Sukie pleads with him he does tell her that she isn’t who she thinks she is. Sukie cannot imagine what that means but it concerns her and she is determined she will not sign for delivery. However, her curiousity gets the better of her and she goes to the post office to pick up the package. What is inside turns her life upside down and changes everything she thought she knew. The documents contain her true birth certificate which show that she was adopted by Lenore and her husband. Her birth mother’s name is Fritzi Gerdabalinsky from Pulaski, Wisconsin and her father is unknown. Also her birth date is about 9 months earlier than she has always celebrated it which means she is 60, not 59 as she always thought. Sukie goes through a number of emotional ups and downs after these revelations but her mother, Lenore, is unaware that Sukie has discovered the truth of her origins. Sukie’s birth mother was a female pilot with the WASPs, a volunteer group of women who flew planes after they were manufactured to bases where they were needed. These amazing women were never part of the official armed forces and they were almost forgotten after the war. What a service Flagg has performed by bringing them into this story. I encourage you to read (or listen) to this book if for no other reason than to learn about these pioneering pilots.

[weisser4 · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

The book just did not keep my attention. I felt bored.

[dmtcer-1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I have to say, I love Fannie Flagg's books. All of her characters are quirky, eccentric and rich with life. The All-Girl Filling Station's Last Reunion was a wonderful blend of people with seemingly different lives, but they are all tied together in the end with common bonds. I found myself laughing out loud at the antics of Sookie and her truly loony mother, Leonore. The back stories centered around the All-Girl filling station, World War 2, and little known female pilots of those days were a colorful look at how life was during the war.

This is a story filled with humor, love, kindness, and history. I loved reading it, and I did not want it to end!

[jtsolakos · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Yesterday and today - an enjoyable read. Enjoyed the historical aspect of this book, but the modern day portion was a bit underwhelming. Great characters except for the main character Sookie.

[pegmcdaniel · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I won this hardcover book on Library Thing's monthly giveaway in exchange for my honest opinion. Thank you, LT!I like everything about Fannie Flagg's writing. For me, her books are always enjoyable so I was very happy to get a free copy of her latest.This novel is really two stories which intertwine late in the book. One story is set in Alabama in present day and the other is set in the 1940s in Wisconsin. Lots of strong characters with interesting story lines make up the entire novel. There are occasional twists and turns which really help to keep the novel moving along.This is a delightful novel with plenty of southern humor, many tender moments, and touching relationships. For this novel, Ms. Flagg had to have done quite a bit of research regarding WWII and women who flew planes during the War. They were called WASPs (Women Air Force Service Pilots) and they did a remarkable job with very little credit. This was educational for me because I knew next to nothing about the WASPs and how much they contributed to winning WWII.I highly recommend this book and am so glad I took the time to read it.

[bcrowl399 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

OH, what a wonderful book. I was drawn in from the very beginning with Sookie's struggles with her identity and have an overbearing mother. I loved the back and forth from Fritzi Jurdabralinski's journey and Sookie's (Sarah Jane Simmons). I saw a lot of myself in Sookie and I saw a lot of the courage and fortitude that I admire in Fritzi and her family. I laughed and cried while reading this book and that is a rarity. I think I ma of a certain age to appreciate Fannie Flagg. I tried reading Fried Green Tomatoes years ago and didn't finish it. Maybe I'll try it again. If it's half as good as this one, it'll be great.

[tututhefirst_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The publisher enticed me:Spanning decades, generations, and America in the 1940s and today, this is a fun-loving mystery about an Alabama woman today, and five women who in 1943 worked in a Phillips 66 gas station, during the WWII years. Mrs. Sookie Poole of Point Clear, Alabama, has just married off the last of her three daughters and is looking forward to relaxing and perhaps traveling with her husband, Earle. The only thing left to contend with now is her mother, the formidable and imposing Lenore Simmons Krackenberry, never an easy task. Lenore may be a lot of fun for other people, but is, for the most part, an overbearing presence for her daughter. Then one day, quite by accident, Sookie discovers a shocking secret about her mother's past that knocks her for a loop and suddenly calls into question everything she ever thought she knew about herself, her family, and her future.In this surprising novel, Fannie Flagg once again delivers a story with believable characters who bring us an inside look at the meaning of being a "lady" in the person of Sookie Poole of Point Clear Alabama, who must deal with the mother of all mothers, Lennore Simmons Krackenberry. It is Lenore's mission in life to ensure that women know how to dress, drink, talk, work (as in supervise the help), dine out, and raise her grandchildren so that civilization can be saved from going to you-know-where in a handbasket.This whole premise could have easily become a very corny caricature of Southern women. Instead, Flagg turns this into a mini-mystery and a wonderful exposè of a chapter in US history during World War II concerning the WASPS, women pilots who ferried military planes around the world to free up male fighter pilots for the war effort. These are some spunky women. These are heroines. Their quirky, laugh-out-loud predicaments may have some readers shaking their heads in dis-belief, but for those of us who were raised by southern ladies, and who served in the military, this one rings true, rings fun, and rings proud. A delightful way to spend some summer time reading.

[waeschle · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

There were two main characters in this book. A current and a past. I thought the woman's story from the past was interesting. I found the current woman to be a bit whiny.

[mahinui-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is a fun read. The premise of the book is as fresh as new mown grass. A family in Wisconsin starts a gas station and then World War II happens, taking the men away. The females of the family take over not only the duties of running the filling station, but bring their feminine touch to the task along with roller skates and home baked biscuits. But wait! They also become cracker jack flyers, and even join the armed forces although not officially.Meantime, Sookie Poole AKA Mrs Earle Poole Jr, daughter of the redoubtable Lenore Simmons Krackenberry, lodged loosely in time present or just about time present is about to find out she is actaully adopted and not a true Simmons after all. She is of course a Jurdabralinski of flying and filling station fame, by genes. We hover over the notions of nature vs nurture a bit, but mostly we are more or less dumbfounded that Sookie of Alabama is as caught up in the minor eccentricities of her life as she is, no matter what her true genetic code may have to say. Feeding the smaller birds while the blue jays have the run of the seed, worrying about the SImmons legacy of a certain foot, nose, or penchant for slipping into dementia in old age consumes Sookie. Her tolerant and kindly husband, Mr Earle Poole Jr, does just about everything he possibly can to make her life smooth as a vanilla milkshake, and darned if he doesn't succeed on every level there is, apparently. Even though there are a couple of rough patches not even the kindliness of a beneficent spouse cannot smooth completely before the delicate Simmons foot must come in contact with that particular pebble. What I liked most about this book is it takes place in a kind and gentle world, even with a war going on, and even with death. The death is the sort of death you encounter in funeral parlors, where the caskets are lined with white satin. The idea of the Jurdabralinski girls performing acrobatics on the wings of airplanes in the air is much more soothing than acts of random violence. The untoward acts of some, with terrible outcomes, are not the drivers of the story. This is a gift basket sort of book. You can give it to a sister who may suspect your motives in a very arbitrary way, tuck in some hot cocoa and tea towels, and by golly you have a sweetly sentimental gift that will not offend even the most delicate of persons, of the female persuasion. It is a good read, if a little breathless at times.

[lhaines56 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

For book club. Entertaining. Girls with gumption during WW 2. Great stuff!

[kappadeemom · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Fannie Flagg does it again with a great story about Sookie, a Southern Alabama women who feels like she has no personality when stacked against the "Winged Victory" (her mother). Sookie discovers a big family secret that she must deal with as the story unfolds across several decades.This is a great tale about the WASP's who served in the war. Lots of great history!

[kebets_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A Fannie Flagg book is guaranteed to be a quick and interesting read and this one didn't let me down. This story spans the years and the continent.Sookie is the mother of 4 - a well settled southern woman with a mother who just won't quit! I mean - really won't quit!!! We call her a battle ax around here! :) She knows everything and everybody and he word and idea rule! And poor Sookie she is at her mom's beck and call ALWAYS!So - that is Sookie's life - complicated enough. But, then it goes up another level. There is a weird registered letter with a secret. . . Sookie was adopted. All her mom's pressure to be something, to follow the family way, to be more than she is. Sookie is blindsided! Her entire life history is shuffled and twisted. She takes advice from some of her friends - some of the advice is better than others. One of her friends, Malveern, suggests she join her naked drum circle to connect with her primal rage. That isn't really Sookie. Instead, Sookie begins meeting with the town psychiatrist - but not in his office right beside her mother's favorite beauty salon - instead they meet at the local waffle house for her counseling session. As Sookie's story slowly unfolds - another story is also unfolding. Sookie's real mother according to the birth certificate is Fritzi, one of the bravest women alive! She started her life as a wing-walker during barnstorming days and from there became a WASP - a group of women who transported planes during WWII across the country. They were never really acknowledged but were amazing none the less.As Sookie finds out more about her mother she slowly begins to understand herself. This was a book about beginning again - no matter what the age or the past. It was just the story I needed. Fannie Flagg did it again!