Excerpt – A Canary Flies the Canyon


New Novel by Jo Ann Brown-Scott

I am proud to announce that my new novel, pictured above, will be released on KINDLE on February 15th! Many of you have requested just that – and so I am providing it. After traveling with thick, cumbersome books and spending ridiculous sums of money on books through the years that appeal only to me, leaving them wasted on my shelf after one reading, I do agree that KINDLE is the modern answer to building a library of adventures at low cost.

This book was a labor of love for me; it flowed and unfolded almost beyond my control, as do many of my paintings. The story is both timeless and timely – a young girl’s quest to establish herself as an artist with her life’s calling, complicated with loss, love and  three particular men, which is why it qualifies as a love story as well as a coming of age accounting.

Here is an except from the very beginning of Chapter 34, when my heroine Annie decides to mend an important fence after flying into Denver from California….each chapter is the book is preceded by a bit of my own verse…..


The winds are full of anger,

blowing the rubbish of our argument around.

I come to you with peace on my mind

not knowing how it will be received.

For a while I became you

putting myself in your place

to better understand.

If you have done the same for me

perhaps we will meet in the middle

and find our love again.


“Hi it’s me. The canary has landed,” I said on the phone.

“Hey canary. Are you free this afternoon?” he said in his baritone voice.

“Yes I am…”

“Well fly on up the canyon then…see ya soon.”

As I flew the canyon to his home I was more nervous with each passing mile and yet I had no feelings of foreboding. It was a different kind of nervous, born of anticipation and yearning. I wanted to make things right again. I understood him this time.

I began to climb his long and winding driveway, wondering where he’d be and how I would be received. It was comforting to be there again among the pines. The meadow was lush green and all confetti-ed with yellow and lavender wildflowers. I saw a deer with a new fawn; I drove slowly past the guest house, the old outhouse and then the big boulders rolled nicely into place along the creek in another ancient time.

As I parked in the wide circular driveway I noticed his familiar vehicles. The birds were vocal, as always when I arrived and I parked and walked to the kitchen door. I knocked. No answer.

I opened it and said, “Hans I’m here!”

No answer. I knew where he was. His safe place. His studio.

I climbed the wooden stairs, reached the loft, looked over to see if he was sitting behind his large rolltop desk. He was not, so I continued around to the left up a couple more stairs and turned left again into the billiard room where he stored a lot of his art, stacked against the walls, blocking the opening to the fireplace, in piles on top of the pool table and spreading out across the large space. I walked quietly through it to his studio door and saw him at his easel, working, with his back to me. I knew that he had seen me coming up the driveway, pulling to a stop; I suspected he had seen me get out of the car, even heard me call his name as I entered the kitchen and then heard me climbing the wooden stairs, but he had not moved.

I walked to him, put my arms around his waist, and hugged him from behind. He turned around and we kissed a long slow passionate kiss.

Then he looked at me and said, “Well that was a friendly hello!”

“Yeah. I can’t be mad at you anymore. I can’t hang onto anger. I was wrong to break up without a talk. I missed you.”



Available on Amazon.com and KINDLE, February 15th – pre-orders taken on the KINDLE STORE on this Amazon  LINK – http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01AIVV8DI?ref_=pe_2427780_160035660


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