Jeannette Walls grew up with parents whose ideals and stubborn nonconformity were both their curse and their salvation. Rex and Rose Mary Walls had four children. In the beginning, they lived like nomads, moving among Southwest desert towns, camping in the mountains. Rex was a charismatic, brilliant man who, when sober, captured his children's imagination. Rose Mary painted and wrote and couldn't stand the responsibility of providing for her family; she called herself an "excitement addict."

It is 1970. "Bean" Holladay is 12 and her sister, Liz, is 15 when their artistic mother, Charlotte, a woman who flees every place she’s ever lived at the first sign of trouble," takes off to find herself." She leaves her girls enough money for food to last a month or two. But when Bean gets home from school one day and sees a police car outside the house, she and Liz board a bus from California to Virginia, where their widowed Uncle Tinsley lives in the decaying antebellum mansion that’s been in the family for generations.

Sallie Kincaid is the daughter of the biggest man in a small town, the charismatic Duke Kincaid. Born at the turn of the 20th century into a life of comfort and privilege, Sallie remembers little about her mother who died in a violent argument with the Duke. By the time she is just eight years old, the Duke has remarried and had a son, Eddie. While Sallie is her father’s daughter, sharp-witted and resourceful, Eddie is his mother’s son, timid and cerebral. When Sallie tries to teach young Eddie to be more like their father, her daredevil coaching leads to an accident, and Sallie is cast out.

A woman flees an abusive husband and finds hope in the wilds of the Arizona desert. Rebecca Quinn escapes her controlling husband and, with nowhere else to go, hops the red-eye to Arizona. There, Gaby Strand - her aunt’s college roommate - gives her shelter at the Salt River Inn, a 1930’s guesthouse located in the wildly beautiful Tonto National Forest. Becca struggles with post-traumatic stress, but is enthralled by the splendor and fragility of the Sonoran Desert.

On mean Harp Bittlemore’s blighted farm, hidden away in the Backhills, nothing has gone right for a very long time. Crops don’t grow, the pigs and chickens stay skinny and the three aged dairy cows, Berle, Crilla and Dally, are so desperate they are plotting an escape. The one thing holding them back is the thought of abandoning young Willa, the single bright point in their life since her older sister, Margaret, ran away. But Willa Bittlemore, just turning 14, is planning her own rebellion.

This is what happens when a writer, preacher, and lover of words encounters some of creation’s wisest theologians: horses. First, she argues with them. They are, after all, horses. What could they possibly know about life and God that theologians haven’t already written? But slowly, she engages their language and listens to their holy wisdom, attending to how they express their being, actions, and relationships. She allows horses to draw her out of the faith of intellect and into a deeper faith of emotion, body, and soul.

The sharp and surprising true story of a woman who finally sets out to understand her past, and the mother she had one day hoped to forget. Full of unexpected twists and unbelievable revelations, American Daughter is an immersive memoir that will have you on the edge of your seat to the very last minute.

Midwife Patience Murphy has a gift: a talent for escorting mothers through the challenges of bringing children into the world. Working in the hardscrabble conditions of Appalachia during the Depression, Patience takes the jobs that no one else wants, helping those most in need - and least likely to pay. She knows a successful midwifery practice must be built on a foundation of openness and trust - but the secrets Patience is keeping are far too intimate and fragile for her to ever let anyone in.

Midwife Kim Osterholzer ushers listeners behind the doors of Amish homes as she recounts her adventures answering God's call to the craft of midwifery. Kim chronicles her nine-year apprenticeship grappling with the nuances and idiosyncrasies of homebirth. She recounts the beauty and painstaking effort of those early years spent catching babies by the light of crackling woodstoves, oil lamps, and lanterns. Every birth enthralled her, whether it involved halting hemorrhages, sharing breath with tiny lungs, or bouncing through wild rides in ambulances.

After their last deployment, when she got shot, her fiancé, Martinez, got killed, and his bomb-sniffing dog, Elvis, got depressed, soldier Mercy Carr and Elvis were both sent home, her late lover’s last words ringing in her ears: “Take care of my partner.” On the Fourth of July weekend, when all of Northshire celebrates with fun and frolic and fireworks, the dog alerts to explosives and they find a squalling baby abandoned near a shallow grave filled with what appear to be human bones.