Uncaged: Can you tell readers more about the Orphan Train Saga series? How many books are you planning on for this series?

Between 1855 and 1929, there were over 250k children sent west from New York and Boston to find new homes. Children most people haven’t heard about. My books are historical fiction. The children in my books are fictional, and I use history to tell their tales. I introduce seventeen of the eighteen children in Discovery-book one-which tells Mileta;s story. Each book after that will tell about the life of one of the children. The reader will follow the child from their earliest memory, find out what caused them to be orphaned, living on the streets or in the asylum. They will journey with the children on the train and follow them as they grow. This series is void of swearwords and graphic content; however, it is not YA, the children grow up, and there are real-life situations. With that said, I have received e-mails from children as young as nine, letting me know they are enjoying reading this saga.

Uncaged: Are you planning on any in-person events in 2020?

I have numerous signings and lectures scheduled for next year and adding more all the time. So far, I have signings scheduled in Michigan, Kentucky, South Dakota, Wisconsin and Ohio. Some events are at craft shows, lecture venues, and organized multi author signing events. I go anywhere I can to meet and make new fans. My signing schedule is on my website and updated frequently.

Uncaged: What are you working on now that you can tell us about?

I am currently working on Franky’s story-the fourth novel in The Orphan Train Saga which is expected to be released in June of 2020.

Uncaged: Past or present, which authors would you love to sit and have lunch with and why?

Diana Gabaldon, I’ve met her twice and she is beautiful inside and out. I believe I could learn a great deal from her. Laura Ingalls Wilder, I grew up reading her books and would love to tell her how much those books ment to me. Charles Loring Brace, Mr. Brace was the man behind the Placing Out Program which sent the children out west via the orphan trains. I have so many questions for him.

Read the rest of the interview in the link below for Uncaged Book Reviews

Born October 18th, Sherry was raised in the small town of Fairdale, a suburb of Louisville, Kentucky. Since eloping with her now-retired Navy husband to Tennessee in the wee hours of the morning on December 30, 1980, Sherry has lived in Kentucky, California, South Carolina, Michigan, Wisconsin, Virginia, Connecticut, Rhode Island, and Pennsylvania. Living in different areas and meeting new people from vastly different regions has been a unique gift she is grateful for.

Sherry got her start in writing by pledging to write a happy ending to a good friend who was going through some really tough times. The story surprised her by taking over and practically writing itself. What started off as a way to make her friend smile started her on a journey that would forever change her life. Sherry readily admits to hearing voices, and is convinced that being married to her best friend for thirty-nine years goes a long way in helping her write happily-ever-afters.

Sherry and her husband have returned to their adopted state of Michigan, to be closer to their children and grandchildren. She spends most of her time writing from her home office, lecturing, and traveling to book signing events. Sherry greatly enjoys traveling to Libraries, Schools and other venues where she shares her books and love of writing. Check out the lecture page to see the topics offered, including History of The Orphan Trains.


Sherry A. Burton
Historical Saga Fiction

While most use their summer breaks for pleasure, third grade teacher Cindy Moore is using her summer vacation to tie up some loose ends concerning her grandmother’s estate. When Cindy enters the storage unit that holds her grandmother’s belongings, she is merely looking for items she can sell to recoup some of the rental fees she’s spent paying for the unit. 

Instead, what she finds are secrets her grandmother has taken to the grave with her. The more Cindy uncovers, the more she wants to know. Why was her grandmother abandoned by her own mother? Why hadn’t she told Cindy she’d lived in an orphanage? And how come her grandmother never mentioned she’d made history as one of the children who rode the Orphan Trains? Join Cindy as she uncovers her grandmother’s hidden past and discovers the life that stole her grandmother’s love.


It was two in the morning. Cindy was freshly showered and had a cup of hot coffee sitting in her trembling hands. She’d resisted opening the notebook after a drop of sweat had fallen onto the cover. Instead, she’d replaced the tissue paper and carried the entire box down the attic stairs and into the living room. She set her coffee aside, unwrapped the notebook, and was greeted with another handwritten note.

Whoever is reading this is about to uncover secrets I’ve taken with me to the grave. At least I hope that is the case, as I’ve worked hard at keeping the shame that is my life under wraps. While I have tried to live a good life, I am afraid that sins from my past have kept me from living a full life. I am not quite sure what sins I committed, but they must have been so great that my dear mother abandoned me when I was but a wee child.

The year was nineteen-twenty-one, it was January, and I had nearly reached my eighth year, when my mother took me to the orphanage. I still remember her face clearly and can still see the dark curls that fell loose around her shoulders. I think she was tall, but maybe that was just a child’s perspective. She was thin; that I do recall. Then again, so was everyone who lived in our tenement. Maybe it was because we were always hungry.

It was raining the last time I saw my mother. I was cold and wet, and my mother told me to go inside where I would be warm. I asked her if she was coming inside and she said no, she didn’t want to spoil the floors with her wet shoes. I didn’t have to worry about that. I wasn’t wearing any shoes. Mother was dripping wet, the rain had stripped her of her curls, and her deep black hair lay plastered against the side of her head like a hat. I asked her why she was crying. She told me it was just the rain on her face, but I could hear her sobs and knew she was lying. Before I could respond, Mother opened the door, pushed me inside, and the door closed behind me. The doors nearly reached the ceiling. A deep rich brown, they were the largest doors I had ever seen. An elephant could have walked through without issue. I have never forgotten the sound it made when it slammed shut. A solid thud that vibrated like rolling thunder. The sound has woke me from my dreams more often than I can count. Maybe that is because my mother never bothered to kiss me goodbye.

Read the rest of the excerpt in the issue below: