Fiction Fest: A free peek at Lisa Rumsey Harris’ ‘The Unlikely Gift of Treasure Blume’

Unlikely Gift of Treasure Blume_2x3We love our back list titles here at Cedar Fort, and so should you!

Lisa Rumsey Harris’ “The Unlikely Gift of Treasure Blume” was released in November 2012, but don’t let that deter you; the book is another of our high-quality fiction books that is sure to entertain you.

“Witty humor,greatcharacters, and a fun read!” wrote one reviewer recently of the book. “Itconveys an important and timely message about looking past exteriors to find inner beauty.”

About the book:
With her love of sweaters, goofy hair, and awkward manners””not to mention her family curse””Treasure Blume knows love is not in her future. That is, until she matches wits with Dennis Cameron, a divorced chef with a six-year-old daughter. Full of mischief, mayhem, and laugh-out-loud humor, this is an unlikely love story you’ll want to read over and over again!

“The Unlikely Gift of Treasure Blume” is available on, and


Micaela went into the bathroom to change while Miss Treasure stood guard. When she came back, she handed the Ziploc to Miss Treasure who (as agreed) stuck it in her non-descript bag. Together they went back to class. Miss Treasure put the bag in the closet and started math time. She hadn’t even had time to think about the wet-pants episode until right now, with Micaela’s dad staring her down.

“Mr. Cameron, I’m so sorry about the situation with Micaela today. I guess we couldn’t get a hold of you . . .” Treasure started to say, intending to explain that she had handled the situation and that he didn’t need to worry.

But she didn’t get that far before Dennis jumped in. It bugged him that she called him Mr. Cameron instead of Dennis, like he was an old man with a walker. “Well, it’s not like you tried very hard, from what I hear,” said Dennis with heat. “Did you even try to find me? Or did you just hand her off tothe office? Bonnie says she was sobbing, and for Bonnie to notice, it hadto be bad.”

Treasure glanced out the glass rectangle in the door. Micaela was absorbed in her lima bean observations, sitting on the concrete sidewalk. “Of course I took her to the office, Mr. Cameron. That’s school policy.”

“I don’t give a flip about policy. I care about my daughter, and obviously, you don’t.”

So that’s the way it’s going to be, is it? thought Treasure. It wasn’t an unfamiliar scenario. People often accused her of their own inadequacies. Projection. Her father had taught her the term.

“She trusted you, and you betrayed her . . .” Dennis said.

At this point, Treasure went icy. Accused of betrayal and buying the children’s affections in the same day? She wasn’t going to apologize for doing her job. And frankly, she was not in need of another verbal beating right now. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about. I do care about your daughter, and I didn’t betray her, but obviously, you feel that you did,” Treasure said.

“How I feel is none of your business,” said Dennis. He felt his ears turning red. Most likely, they’ ll explode off my head, he thought.

Reacting to his obvious anger, Treasure began to blurt. “And obviously, based on your response time, you must not have thought it was much of an emergency at all.”

Dennis was too mad to speak. He sputtered, trying to begin several sentences, unable to get them out. “Don’t tell me to . . . You have noright . . . Of course I . . .”

Luckily, it gave Treasure time to imagine her mental duck. I am a duck’s back, she mentally intoned. These words roll off me like water. She drew a deep breath and started to speak in a low tone. “We took care of the problem. You’d know that if you had taken the time to talk to Micaela before you barged in here. Did you even speak to her?”

Treasure looked at him, waiting for him to spit out the venom that was clearly pooling in his throat. She wasn’t angry anymore. Instead she was a little bit sad. She’d liked this man. She always chose his line for lunch, eager to see how he arranged the food on her tray. Based on his platingalone, he was more suited to Kitchen Stadium than the lunchroom.

With a nearly convulsive effort, Dennis swallowed and closed his eyes. He raised his hands and drew them through his surprisingly thick hair. Treasure had never seen it outside of a hair net before. It was nice: reddish brown and shaggy, a bit like the ears on an Irish setter. Then he looked up at her: “I want you to know that I blame you for this.”

Not the first time I’ve heard that, thought Treasure, but instead she drew herself up and mustered all the dignity she could. “For what, Mr. Cameron? For the small capacity of children’s bladders?”

“Yes,” said Dennis, “and for poisoning her against lima beans. If she won’t eat them, I’m holding you accountable.” And with that, he slapped the top of a desk and left the room.