Josh is attending medical school in Florida and engaged to a beautiful girl when the Adventure Box arrives, and his well-planned life takes a major detour. Josh and his brother Erik have received adventure boxes from their grandfather in Michigan for years. The boxes helped bridge the distance between Michigan and Florida, and kept their grandfather a part of their lives. Each box was lovingly filled with treats and gifts, and arrived regularly until a year ago when his grandfather died.
With his grandfather gone, how can this Adventure Box be explained and what does it mean? Who sent the box, and why? The return address says Heaven! Equally puzzling are the contents. The box contains three clues: a feather, a watch and a map.
Seeking answers, Josh travels to Michigan and enters a world of buried treasure, African swords and an ancient curse. Along the way he finds true love and something important that he almost lost: himself. His grandfather had been correct. The Last Adventure Box was the most important one of all.
I have finished reading The Last Adventure Box and must say it was another great
story written by Jim and Cheryl. A perfect book for these rainy days that is sure to
warm the heart and keep the reader occupied following Josh while he embarks on
a journey of self discovery not knowing where he may end up. A must read for anyone
who is looking to snuggle up under a blanket and read an entertaining story that is
sure to sooth the soul!
I read The Last Adventure Box and enjoyed it quite a bit. The concept was very interesting,
the characters believable and I was glad to see Josh find Abby and realize how wrong his
awful fiancé was for him. The idea of the cursed swords was intriguing. Gumpy, his life and
house seemed like a great memory. It was odd reading about Mount Pleasant in a book.
Never had that experience before. Thanks again for sharing it with me.
Ingrid Kirsten Tourangeau
The book was great!
Excerpt: Chapter 1, Dora
The streets ran on a grid system. Those going north and south were unobstructed, while the east and west intersections had stop signs. Dora was aware of all the traffic signs on the route home; she had traveled this road thousands of times. Each swaying tree, country mailbox, and quirky lawn ornament was as familiar to her as the layout of Sam's Club, where she had just finished shopping. She was, however, on the lookout for deer. Although it was still early, Dora had recently noticed deer along this road at odd times--times when she wouldn't ordinarily expect to see them. She had just remarked about this to her husband, Matt, at breakfast, and he agreed. "Keep your eyes open. I have seen them too, and if you hit one it will really tear your car up."
As Dora scanned for deer, she went through a mental checklist of all she had to do. It would be a busy day. She needed to put groceries away, and then get dinner into the crock pot. If she cooked the meal on high, it should be fine. Her shift at hospice started at 3:00 p.m. and ran until 6:00 p.m. Sarah (her daughter) was out for the night, so Dora and Matt would eat the pot roast by themselves around 7:00 p.m. That was a little late for Matt, but he understood how Dora felt about her volunteer work. He knew it was important to her, so he didn't complain.
Dora smiled when she thought of Matt. He was such a sweetheart, even after 22 years of marriage. It had been Matt's idea to buy the Prius, and when he saw how much Dora liked it, Matt insisted the car be hers. She had never been attached to a car before, not until the Prius. However, she sometimes forgot she didn't need to insert a key to turn on the ignition. And the car was so quiet in battery mode that she had twice forgotten to turn off the engine. Once the car had stayed on all night in the driveway. She was surprised it didn't drain the battery completely. I am either getting old or stupid, she thought, or maybe both.
Dora prided herself on being a good driver. She drove defensively, and had never had a traffic ticket--not one. She drove past the abandoned one-room schoolhouse on her right, and knew that up ahead would be the familiar herd of cows lounging in the field as predictable as statues. It was a perfect day for taking it easy. The sky was a bluebird blue with only occasional clouds resembling giant puffs of popcorn to interrupt its beauty. There weren't many cars on the road, which was how Dora liked it. She enjoyed living in a place where a person could drive from point A to point B without traffic congestion.
It was different than when she lived on Long Island. She had grown up there and attended the C.W. Post campus of Long Island University. Lone Island was congested. If you wanted to go into Manhattan, you had to strategize when to come and go or risk getting stuck on the Long Island Expressway--like an insect caught on flypaper. Dora still had friends and family in New York, and returned there occasionally to visit. Whenever she did, she was greeted with sympathy, as if she were a refugee on leave from some third-world country. She knew people in New York who adamantly insisted they could never live anywhere but Manhattan. According to those people, there was nothing outside of The Big Apple that was worth seeing. The Midwest was a foreign country to them and offered nothing to stimulate the mind. It was devoid of culture. Why should they go elsewhere when the best of everything was in New York?
Dora wondered what they meant by "best." Was it the best traffic congestion? Or the best overpriced housing? Maybe they would miss the best restaurants or theaters? Half the people she knew in Manhattan didn't even own a car because they couldn't afford to park it. They couldn't leave the city even if they wanted to, but they refused to feel trapped. Instead they consoled themselves with the believe that they were living a green (and therefore better) life, even if it made shopping for their toilet paper inconvenient.
Dora didn't feel the least bit guilty as she breathed in the fresh country air and sailed along the county roads in her Toyota Prius. It was full of groceries, Snapple, chicken feed, and a month's supply of toilet paper. She was certain that if she took some of her reluctant relatives and plopped them down in the middle of the mitten, they'd be amazed to discover that civilization exists outside of New York. Once they got over their initial shock and realized how they overpaid for most things, they might actually like it in Michigan. They might even want to stay. Dora shuddered at the thought, as she imagined the people of New York stampeding towards Mount Pleasant. She didn't want her community overpopulated or bloated with its own sense of importance. The town was already growing faster than Dora was comfortable with. She had no desire to extol the virtues of her city. It was a well-kept secret. Dora didn't need or want the best. Right now everything in her life was good, and that was enough for Dora.
There is a lot to offer in Mount Pleasant, Dora thought. To prove her contention, she started counting the number and types of restaurants. There were five Chinese restaurants, two Italian--not counting pizza parlors, and every type of fast food establishment one could think of, as well as chain restaurants like Applebee's, Ruby Tuesday, Culvers, and others. As her mind wandered, she noticed in her peripheral vision a car coming from the west. It was to her right and moving at a fast rate of speed, but she was confident it would slow down and stop. Why? Because that's what the driver was supposed to do, what good drivers did. She knew he had a stop sign ahead, beyond the black mailbox with a horse silhouette on top. She also knew she had the right of way and didn't have to stop. She saw the sign as she approached the intersection. Everything was crystal clear. And then time itself appeared to downshift and proceed as if she were in a dream sequence being filmed in slow motion. Dora's last thoughts were: this can't happen to me. I'm a good driver. He's not stopping. He's going to hit me! All these thoughts occurred simultaneously, followed by a thunderous crash. Dora heard screeching tires and the moan of metal being crushed. Then there was nothing--only the void, and total blackness.