Just One More Paragraph

Four Letter Words by Dr. Bill Giovannetti

2012-02-02T00:05:00.000-05:00

Four Letter Words
Author: Dr. Bill Giovannetti
Publisher: Endurant Press (September 26, 2011)
ISBN-13: 978-0983681267
Paperback: 208 pages

About Four Letter Words:

Thou shalt tolerate every opinion... except the Christian's. Today's postmodern "prime directive" leaves many followers of Jesus tongue-tied. In the global village, isn't it unreasonable, and even dangerous, to suggest that the Bible has a monopoly on truth?

The church needs a new breed of Christ-follower. We need Christ-followers who are alert to today's touchy ideas, the truths that fire up more heat than light. We need Christ-followers who can make a clear case for the Bible's worldview; who are ready to help our friends think through their beliefs; who can recognize inconsistencies and challenge them; and who can do all of this with humility, confidence, humor, and love. For more information visit http://fourletterwords.org.

You can purchase this book at Amazon

My Thoughts:

Four Letter Words is a powerful book - one that will make you take notice and could ruffle a few feathers. Dr. Bill Giovannetti doesn't mince words and puts things out there for one to look at and think about. He deals with "touchy" subjects that most Christians won't or can't discuss with non-believers. Dr. Giovannetti addresses how to handle these subjects and stand up for what one believes in.

This book is targeted to Christian youth, however, I would suggest that it is more appropriate for high school teens and college students. His conversations and methods of logic are geared for the older teen. There is also a section on sex that may not be deemed appropriate for the younger sect. This book should be read by the parent for content and then read with the teen. There are many, many great discussions that can be had by a parent and teen going through this book together. There are even questions and a great guide in the back that can help both through a fantastic study.

I was very pleased to see the church and post-modernism being discussed. This is one area I've been having some problems with - and now that my daughter is in college, she is attending a church that is caught up in the experiences and not giving the instruction and guidance that is needed. This is just one of the many subjects that Dr. Giovannetti tackles and he certainly has had my head nodding in agreement as I read.

One thing I liked, but at the same time didn't like, was the links to the website in the book. One can go to the website and download and read many great things. This couldn't be done on my e-reader, and I had to sit at the PC and do it all online. That didn't thrill me too much and I find it difficult reading online for any length of time. It would have been much better if we had one of those awesome iPhones as it can be done using them. Unfortunately, we don't have one, so I was tied to my PC to follow the links.

Overall - this is a fantastic book and amazing tool that can be used to really discuss and help solidify your teens' beliefs before they strike out into the world.

About the Author:

Dr. Bill Giovannetti is a professor at A.W. Tozer Theological Seminary and the senior pastor of Neighborhood Church of Redding. An experienced speaker and author, Bill informs the mind in ways that touch the heart. He enjoys life with his wife and two kids in northern California. For more information about Bill and his other books, visit http://maxgrace.wordpress.com and http://fourletterwords.org.

About the Giveaway:

Bill is celebrating the new Kindle edition of Four Letter Words (for only $4.99)! He’ll be traveling coast to coast over the next few weeks on this virtual book tour and he's celebrating by hosting a great giveaway!

Click here to find out how you can win two gift certificates to Amazon (in the amount of $50 and $25) and free downloads of his yet-to-be-released title, Recession-Proof: Living a God-Blessed Life in a Messed Up World.

Get "The whole scoop" here: http://fourletterwords.org/2012/01/contest-giveaway/

Make sure to visit others on the Blog Tour to see what they have to say about Four Letter Words.

I received an e-copy of this book to read and honestly review for this tour.

Everything Romance: A Celebration of Love for Couples by David Bordon and Tom Winters

2012-02-01T06:54:00.000-05:00

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!

Today's Wild Card authors are:

David Bordon and Tom Winters

and the book:

Everything Romance: A Celebration of Love for Couples

WaterBrook Press (December 20, 2011)

***Special thanks to Ashley Boyer, Publicist, WaterBrook Multnomah Publishing Group of for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHORS:

David Bordon and Tom Winters are partners in Bordon-Winters, LLC, a book concept and packaging company that produces successful books and gift products. Among their previous titles are the popular “101 Things You Should Do” series. This volume joins another one of their beautiful gift books, Everything Christmas.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Everything Romance is a gift book overflowing with heartwarming ideas to keep that special relationship fresh and exciting. Whether you’re a newlywed or celebrating 40 years of wedded bliss, this book offers a treasury of ways to capture your love’s heart daily. Love letters, inexpensive date night suggestions, tantalizing recipes, conversation starters, and inspiring love stories will all help you romance the love of your life in creative and meaningful ways!

Product Details:
List Price: $14.99

Hardcover: 288 pages
Publisher: WaterBrook Press (December 20, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0307729311
ISBN-13: 978-0307729316

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

A Marriage Blessing

Most gracious God, we give You thanks for Your tender love in sending Jesus Christ to come among us, to be born of a human mother, and to make the way of the cross to be the way of life.

We thank You, also, for consecrating the union of man and woman in His name. By the power of Your Holy Spirit, pour out the abundance of Your blessing upon this man and this woman. Defend them from every enemy. Lead them into all peace. Let their love for each other be a seal upon their hearts, a mantle about their shoulders, and a crown upon their foreheads. Bless them in their work and in their companionship; in their sleeping and in their waking; in their joys and in their sorrows; in their life and in their death. Finally, in Your mercy, bring them to that table where Your saints feast forever in Your heavenly home; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who with You and the Holy Spirit, lives and reigns, one God, forever and ever.

Amen.
(from The Book of Common Prayer)

PERFECT PAIR PIZZA-PITA SNACKS

2 whole-wheat pita breads
4 teaspoons basil pesto
1 cup cottage cheese
2 tablespoons Roma tomatoes, chopped
2 teaspoons fresh basil, chopped
Fresh Parmesan cheese (optional)

Toast pita breads until they are crispy and firm. Spread half of the pesto on each pita. Next, spread half of the cottage
cheese on each pita. Top with chopped tomato and fresh basil. If desired, sprinkle with fresh grated parmesan cheese. Slice each pita into two or four wedges and enjoy!

Romance Trivia

A team of medical experts in Virginia contends that you’re more likely to catch the common cold virus by shaking hands than by kissing.

Excerpted from Everything Romance by David Bordon and Thomas J. Winters Copyright © 2011 by David Bordon and Thomas J. Winters. Excerpted by permission of WaterBrook Press, a division of Random House, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

My Thoughts:

A book that I find myself returning to again and again, "Everything Romance" is a must for any library. It is full of romantic ideas, recipes, trivia, stories, prayers, and lots of other ways to inspire romance - something everyone can use. Designed to be read in little "bursts", this book is one that should be left in a place that's easy to pick up - like the coffee table.

After reading "Everything Romance", I realized that after all our years of being married, I've fallen into a rut and not done the "special things" for my husband that I used to when we were first married. Now, I'm putting more effort into those little things and it is being noticed. It has given our marriage that jump-start that was needed. Who knew that a little book could inspire and point out things that I had forgotten along the way - like romance!

This little book is a lovely addition to any couple's library. It would make a great gift for weddings, anniversaries, Valentine's Day, or just a wonderful treat for yourself. This book comes highly recommended, but be warned - your marriage won't be the same after reading this book!

Never the Same by B. C. Fleming

2012-01-31T10:29:00.000-05:00

Never the Same
Author: B. C. Fleming
Published 2011 by Fleming Continuing Education Programs
ISBN: 139780692004074
Paperback, 170 pages
Genre: Non-fiction

About the Book:

On one calm morning in late July 2006, a ten vehicle convoy departed its Forward Operating Base in southeastern Afghanistan. Destination: KANDAHAR. Less than five hours later one soldier awoke, burned and bloody, in a ditch on the side of the road.

This is the story of Sergeant B.C. Fleming. A Team Leader in a Reconnaissance Platoon with the US Army's 10th Mountain Division, Fleming recounts his grueling experience of waging war in the high-desert mountains of Afghanistan. From being shot at to getting blown up TWICE to delivering humanitarian aid to impoverished children, he candidly describes "the real story" of the war in Afghanistan as he experienced it.

His story is one of truth, pain, sacrifice, soul-searching, and the unthinkable adversity American troops overcome daily in order to protect and defend the American people.

Make sure to stop by B&B Media's blog and read their interview with B. C. Fleming.

My Thoughts:

Every American should read this amazing and inpsirational book! It takes the reader through the life-changing events of one outstanding individual and a true hero, Brian Fleming.

Brian tells about his decision to accept God's plan for him, his marriage and then his decision to enter the Army and how following God's plan for him has defined his life. Surviving 2 bombings, Brian traveled a horrendous road back from being badly burned and now travels and helps other surviving war trauma.

This book is not for the faint of heart. Brian puts it right out there - telling it matter-of-factually and takes the reader through the horrors of what he dealt with - physical pain, emotions and feelings and the trauma that took a tole on himself as well as his family when he returned from Afghanistan.

This is an amazing story of faith, love, gratitude, healing and finding one's own purpose. Make sure to add this incredible book to your list of must-reads for this year. Brian's story is nothing less than amazing!

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED!

About the Author:

B.C. Fleming has rapidly emerged as a symbol of perseverance and unconditional victory among 21st century combat-veterans. His is a face of hope and promise, survival and success. Having been blown up twice while fighting the war in Afghanistan, he overcame the odds and lived to tell about it. With wisdom and perspective beyond his years, Fleming is dedicated to seeing others succeed in the midst of their own challenges.

If you would like to learn more about the author or his work, please stop by his website at: http://www.blownupguy.com/

I received a copy of this book to read and honestly review for this tour.

Threads of Hope (Fabric of Time) by Andrea Boeshaar

2012-01-31T03:00:00.000-05:00

Today's Wild Card author is:

Andrea Boeshaar

and the book:

Threads of Hope
(Fabric of Time)

Realms (January 3, 2012)

***Special thanks to Jon Wooten of Charisma House for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Andrea Kuhn Boeshaar is a certified Christian life coach; a popular speaker at writers’ conferences, workshops, and women’s groups; and the author of numerous published books, including the Seasons of Redemption series: Unwilling Warrior, Uncertain Heart, Unexpected Love, and Undaunted Faith.

Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Kristin Eikaas has her hopes set on a new life in America.

The year is 1848, and Kristin Eikaas has traveled from Norway to Wisconsin with dreams of a new life. But when she arrives, she finds one disappointment after another. Worse, her superstitious uncle now believes that his neighbor’s Oneida Indian wife has put a curse on Kristin. Everyone knows the Sundbergs put spells on people…

Everyone except Kristin. Her run-ins with Sam Sundberg only prove that he is a good man from a Christian family. But when her uncle discovers she’s been associating with Sam, his temper flares. To escape his wrath, Kristin gratefully accepts a job as the Sundbergs’ house girl, finding solace at the family’s spinning wheel.

In the time Sam and Kristin spend together, their friendship develops into much more, and Sam prays about a match between them. But opposition threatens to derail their newfound love. Will they have the courage to stand up for what is right—even against their own families?

Product Details:

List Price: $13.99

Paperback: 304 pages

Publisher: Realms (January 3, 2012)

Language: English

ISBN-10: 1616384972

ISBN-13: 978-1616384975

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

September 1848
It looks like Norway.
The thought flittered across nineteen-year-old Kristin Eikaas’s mind as Uncle Lars’s wagon bumped along the dirt road. The docks of Green Bay, Wisconsin, were behind them, and now they rode through a wooded area that looked just as enchanting as the forests she’d left in Norway. Tall pine trees and giant firs caused the sunshine to dapple on the road. Kristin breathed in the sweet, fresh air. How refreshing it felt in her lungs after being at sea for nearly three months and breathing in only salty sea air or the stale air in her dark, crowded cabin.
A clearing suddenly came into view, and a minute or so later, Kristin eyed the farm fields stretched before her. The sight caused an ache of homesickness. Her poppa had farmed . . .
“Your trip to America was good, ja?” Uncle Lars asked in Norwegian, giving Kristin a sideways glance.
He resembled her father so much that her heart twisted painfully with renewed grief. Except she’d heard about Onkel—about his temper—how he had to leave Norway when he was barely of age, because, Poppa had said, trouble followed him.
But surely he’d grown past all of that. His letters held words of promise, and there was little doubt that her uncle had made a new life for himself here in America.
Just as she would.
Visions of a storefront scampered across her mind’s eye—a shop in which she could sell her finely crocheted and knitted items. A shop in which she could work the spinning wheel, just as Mor had . . .
Uncle Lars arched a brow. “You are tired, liten niese?”
“Ja. It was a long journey.” Kristin sent him a sideways glance.
“I am grateful I did not come alone. The Olstads made good traveling companions.”
Her uncle cleared his throat and lowered his voice. “But you have brought my inheritance, ja?” He arched a brow.
“Ja.” Kristin thought of the priceless possession she’d brought from Norway.
“And you would not hold out on your onkel, would you?”
Prickles of unease caused Kristin to shift in her seat. She resisted the urge to touch the tiny gold and silver cross pendent suspended from a dainty chain that hung around her neck. Her dress concealed it. She couldn’t give it up, even though it wasn’t legal for a woman to inherit anything in Norway. But the necklace had been her last gift from Mor. A gift from one’s mother wasn’t an inheritance . . . was it? “No, Onkel.”
She turned and peered down from her perch into the back of the wooden wagon bed. Peder Olstad smiled at her, and Kristin relaxed some. Just a year older, he was the brother of Kristin’s very best friend who had remained in Norway with their mother. She and Peder had grown up together, and while he could be annoying and bad tempered at times, he was the closest thing to a brother that she had. And Sylvia—Sylvia was closer than a sister ever could be. It wouldn’t be long, and she and Mrs. Olstad would come to America too. That would be a
happy day!
“You were right,” John Olstad called to Uncle Lars in their native tongue. “Lots of fertile land in this part of the country. I hope to purchase some acres soon.”
“And after you are a landowner for five years, you can be a citizen of America and you can vote.” The Olstad men smiled broadly and replied in unison. “Oh, ja, ja . . . ”
Uncle Lars grinned, causing dozens of wrinkles to appear around his blue eyes. His face was tanned from farming beneath the hot sun, and his tattered leather hat barely concealed the abundance of platinum curls growing out of his large head. “Oh, ja, this is very good land. I am glad I persuaded Esther to leave the Muskego settlement and move northeast. But, as you will soon see, we are still getting settled.”
“Ja, how’s that, Lars?”
Kristin heard the note of curiosity in Mr. Olstad’s voice.
“I purchased the land and built a barn and a cabin.” He paused and gave a derisive snort. “Well, a fine home takes time and money.”
“Oh, ja, that way.” Mr. Olstad seemed to understand.
And Kristin did too. One couldn’t expect enormous comforts out in the Wisconsin wilderness.
Just then they passed a stately home situated on the Fox River. Two quaint dormers peered from the angled roof, which appeared to be supported by a pair of white pillars.
“That is Mr. Morgan Martin’s home. He is a lawyer in town.”
Uncle Lars delivered the rest of his explanation with a sneer. “And an Indian agent.”
“Indians?” Kristin’s hand flew to her throat.
“Do not fret. The soldiers across the river at Fort Howard protect the area.”
Kristin forced her taut muscles to relax.
“Out here the deer are plentiful and fishing is good. Fine lumber up here too. But the Norwegian population is small. Nevertheless, we have our own church, and the reverend speaks our language.”
“A good thing,” Mr. Olstad remarked.
“I cannot wait for the day when Far owns land,” Peder said, glancing at Mr. Olstad. “Lots of land.” The warm wind blew his auburn hair outward from his narrow face, and his hazel eyes sparked with enthusiasm, giving the young man a somewhat wild appearance. “But no farming for me. I want to be rich someday.”
“As do we all!” exclaimed Mr. Olstad, whose appearance was an older, worn-out version of his son’s.
Kristin’s mind had parked on land ownership. “And once you are settled, Sylvia will come to America. I cannot wait. I miss her so much.”
She grappled with a fresh onset of tears. Not only was Sylvia her best friend, but she and the entire Olstad clan had also become like family to her ever since a smallpox epidemic ravaged their little village two years ago, claiming the lives of Kristin’s parents and two younger brothers. When Uncle Lars had learned of the tragic news, he offered her a place to stay in his home if she came to America. Onkel wrote that she should be with her family, so Kristin had agreed to make the voyage. Her plans to leave Norway had encouraged the Olstads to do
the same. But raising the funds to travel took time and much hard work. While the Olstads scrimped and saved up their crop earnings, Kristin did spinning, weaving, knitting, and sewing for those with money to spare. By God’s grace, they were finally here.
Uncle Lars steered the wagon around a sharp bend in the rutty road. He drove to the top of a small hill, and Kristin could see the blue Lake Michigan to her left and farm fields to her right.
Then a lovely white wood-framed house came into view. It didn’t look all that different from the home they’d just past, with dormers, a covered front porch, and stately pillars bearing the load of a wide overhang. She marveled at the homestead’s large, well-maintained barn and several outbuildings. American homes looked like this? Then no wonder Mr. Olstad couldn’t wait to own his own farm!
Up ahead Kristin spied a lone figure of a man. She could just barely make out his faded blue cambric shirt, tan trousers, and the hoe in his hands as he worked the edge of the field. Closer still, she saw his light brown hair springing out from beneath his hat. As the wagon rolled past him, the man ceased his labor and turned their way. Although she couldn’t see his eyes as he squinted into the sunshine, Kristin did catch sight of his tanned face. She guessed his age to be not too much more than hers and decided he was really quite handsome.
“Do not even acknowledge the likes of him,” Uncle Lars spat derisively. “Good Christians do not associate with Sam Sundberg or any members of his family.”
Oh, dear, too late! Kristin had already given him a little smile out of sheer politeness. She had assumed he was a friend or neighbor. But at her uncle’s warning she quickly lowered her gaze.
Kristin’s ever-inquiring nature got the best of her. “What is so bad about that family?”
“They are evil—like the Martins. Even worse, Karl Sundberg is married to a heathen Indian woman who casts spells on the good people of this community.”
“Spells?” Peder’s eyes widened.
“Ja, spells. Why else would some folks’ crops fail while Karl’s flourish? He gets richer and richer with his farming in the summer, his logging camps in the winter, and his fur trading with heathens, while good folks like me fall on hard times.”
“Hard times?” Peder echoed the words.
“Ja, same seed. Same fertile ground. Same golden opportunity.”
Uncle Lars swiveled to face the Olstads. “I will tell you why that happens. The Sundbergs have hexed good Christians like me.” He wagged his head. “Oh, they are an evil lot, those Sundbergs and Martins. Same as the Indians.”
Indians? Curiosity got the better of her, and Kristin swung around in the wagon to get one last glimpse of Sam Sundberg. She could hardly believe he was as awful as her uncle described. Why, he even removed his hat just now and gave her a cordial nod.
“Turn around, niese, and mind your manners!” Uncle Lars’s large hand gripped her upper arm and he gave her a mild shake.
“I . . . I am sorry, Onkel,” Kristin stammered. “But I have never seen an Indian.”
“Sam Sundberg is not an Indian. It is his father’s second wife and their children. Oneida half-breeds is what we call them.”
“Half-breed, eh?”
Kristin glanced over her shoulder and saw Peder stroke his chin.
“Interesting,” he added.
“How very interesting.” Kristin couldn’t deny her interest was piqued. “Are there many Indians living in the Wisconsin Territory?”
“Ja, they trespass on my land, but I show my gun and they leave without incident. Sundberg brings his Indian wife to church.” He wagged his head. “Such a disgrace.”
“And the Territory officials do nothing?” Mr. Olstad asked.
Uncle Lars puffed out his chest. “As of three months ago, we are the State of Wisconsin—no longer a territory.” Uncle Lars stated the latter with as much enthusiasm as a stern schoolmaster. “Now the government will get rid of those savages once and for all.” He sent Kristin a scowl. “And you, my liten niese, will do well to stay away from Indians. All of them, including our neighbors, the Sundbergs. You hear, lest you get yourself scalped.”
“Ja, Onkel.”
With a measure of alarm, Kristin touched her braided hair and chanced a look at Peder and Mr. Olstad. Both pairs of wide eyes seemed to warn her to heed Uncle Lars’s instructions. She would, of course. But somehow she couldn’t imagine the man they’d just passed doing her any harm. Would he?

Sam Sundberg wiped the beads of perspiration off his brow before dropping his hat back on his head. Who was the little blonde riding next to Lars Eikaas? Sam hadn’t seen her before. And the men in the wagon bed . . . he’d never seen them either.
After a moment’s deliberation he concluded they were the expected arrivals from the “Old Country.” Months ago Sam recalled hearing talk in town about Lars’s orphaned niece sailing to America with friends of the family, so he assumed the two red-haired men and the young lady were the topics of that particular conversation. But wouldn’t it just serve Mr. Eikaas right if that blonde angel turned his household upside down—or, maybe, right-side up?
He smirked at the very idea. Sam didn’t have to meet that young lady to guess Mr. Eikaas would likely have his hands full. Her second backward glance said all Sam needed to know.
The word plucky sprang into his mind. He chuckled. Plucky she
seemed, indeed.
But was she wise enough not to believe everything her uncle said?
Sam thought it a real shame. Years ago Pa and Lars Eikaas had been friends. But then Pa’s silver went missing, insults were traded, and the Eikaases’ prejudice against Ma, Jackson, and Mary kept the feud alive.
The Eikaas wagon rolled out of sight, leaving brown clouds of dust in its wake. A grin threatened as Sam thought again of that plucky blonde’s curious expression. Maybe she did have a mind of her own. Now wouldn’t that be something? Sam thanked God that not everyone around here was as intolerant of Wisconsin Natives as the Eikaas family. There were those who actually befriended the Indians and stood up to government officials in their stead. Like Pa, for instance. Like Sam himself.
The blistering sun beat down on him. Removing his hat once more, he wiped the sweat from his forehead. He started pondering the latest government proposal to remove the Indians from their land. First the Oneida tribe had been forced out, and soon the Menominee band would be “removed” and “civilized.” As bad as that was, it irked Sam more to think about how the government figured it knew best for the Indians. Government plans hadn’t succeeded in the past, so why would they now? Something else had to be done. Relocating the Menominee would cause those people nothing but misery. They’d stated as much themselves. Furthermore, the Indians, led by Chief Oshkosh, were determined not to give up their last tract of land. Sam predicted this current government proposal would only serve to stir up more violence between Indians and whites.
But not if he and Pa could help it.
In the distance he heard the clang of the dinner bell. Ma didn’t like him to tarry when food was on the table. Across the beet field, Sam saw his younger brother run on ahead of him. He wagged his head at the twelve-year-old and his voracious appetite.
With one calloused hand gripping the hoe and the other holding the bushel basket, Sam trudged toward their white clapboard home. Its two dormers protruded proudly from the second floor.
Entering the mudroom, he fetched cold water from the inside well, peeled off his hat, and quickly washed up. Next he donned a fresh shirt. Ma insisted upon cleanliness at the supper table. Finally presentable, he made his way into the basement where the summer kitchen and a small eating area were located. The cool air met his sun-stoked skin and Sam sighed, appreciating the noonday respite.
Next he noticed a cake in the middle of the table.
“That looks good enough to eat,” he teased, resisting the urge to steal a finger-full of white frosting.
Ma gave him a smile, and her nut-brown eyes darkened as she set the wooden tureen of turkey and wild rice onto the table. “Since it’s Rachel’s last day with us, I thought I would prepare an extra special dessert.”
Sam glanced across the table at the glowing bride-to-be. In less than twenty-four hours Rachel Decker would become Mrs. Luke Smith. But for the remainder of today she’d fulfill her duties as Ma’s hired house girl who helped with the cooking, cleaning, sewing, washing, and ironing whenever Ma came down with one of her episodes, which were sometimes so intensely painful that Ma couldn’t get out of bed without help. Rachel had been both a comfort and an efficient assistant to Ma.
“I helped bake the cake, Sam.”
He grinned at his ten-year-old sister, Mary. “Good job.”
They all sat down, Mary taking her seat beside Rachel. Sam helped his mother into her place at the head of the table then lowered himself into his chair next to Jackson, who’d been named after Major General Andrew Jackson, the seventh president of this great country.
“Sam, since your father is away,” Ma began, “will you please ask God’s blessing on our food?”
“Be glad to.” He bowed his head. “Dearest Lord, we thank Thee for Thy provisions. Strengthen and nourish us with this meal so we may glorify Thee with our labors. In Jesus’s name, amen.”
Action ensued all around the table. The women served themselves and then between Sam and Jack, they scraped the bowl clean.
“Good thing Pa’s not home from his meetings in town,” Jack muttered with a crooked grin.
“If your father were home,” Ma retorted, “I would have made more food.”
“Should have made more anyhow.” Jack gave her a teasing grin. “No seconds.” He clanged the bowl and spoon together as if to prove his point.
“You have seconds on your plate already,” Ma said. “Why, I have never seen anyone consume as much food as you do, Jackson.”
His smile broadened. “I’m growing. Soon I’ll be taller than Sam.”
“Brotherly competition.” Sam had to chuckle. But in the next moment, he wondered if his family behaved oddly. Didn’t all families enjoy meals together? Tease and laugh together? Tell stories once the sun went down? According to Rachel, they didn’t. The ebony-haired, dark-eyed young woman had grown up without a mother and had a drunkard for a father . . . until Ma got wind of the situation and took her in. She invited Rachel to stay in the small room adjacent to the kitchen and offered her a job. Rachel had accepted. And now, years later, Rachel would soon marry a fine man, Luke Smith, a friend of Sam’s.
Taking a bite of his meal, he chewed and looked across the table at Mary. Both she and Jack resembled their mother, dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, and graceful, willowy frames, while Sam took after his father, blue eyes and stocky build, measuring just under six feet. Yet, in spite of the outward dissimilarities, the five Sundbergs were a closely knit family, and Sam felt grateful that he’d known nothing but happiness throughout
his childhood. He had no recollection whatsoever of his biological mother who had taken ill and died during the voyage from Norway to America.
Sam had been but a toddler when she went home to be with the Lord, and soon after disembarking in New York, his father met another Norwegian couple. They helped care for Sam and eventually persuaded Pa to take his young son and move with them to Wisconsin, known back then as part of the “Michigan Territory.” Pa seized the opportunity, believing the promises that westward expansion touted, and he was not disappointed.
He learned to plant, trap, and trade with the Indians, and he became a successful businessman. In time, he saved enough funds to make his dreams of owning land and farming a reality.
Then, when Sam was a boy of eight years, his father met and married Mariah, an Oneida. Like her, many Oneida were Christians and fairly well educated due to the missionaries who had lived among them. In time Sam took to his new mother, and she to him. Through the years Ma cherished and admonished him as though he were her own son. She learned the Norwegian language and could speak it fluently. As far as Sam was concerned, he was her own son—and Mariah, his own mother.
They were a family.
“Was that the Eikaas wagon driving by not long ago?” Mary asked.
Sam snapped from his musing. “Sure was. It appears they have relatives in town.”
“Mr. Eikaas didn’t stop and visit, did he?” Mary’s eyes were as round as gingersnaps.
Sam chuckled. “No, of course not. I can’t recall the last time Lars Eikaas spoke to me . . . or any of the Sundbergs, for that matter.”
“Erik is nice to me at school.” Mary took a bite of her meal.
“Glad to hear it.”
“I can’t wait to begin school next week.”
Sam grinned at his sister’s enthusiasm. He’d felt the same way as a boy.
“Sam, what made you assume Mr. Eikaas transported relatives in his wagon today?”
He glanced at Ma. “A while back I’d heard that Lars’s niece was coming to America, accompanied by friends, and since I didn’t recognize the three passengers in the wagon this morning, I drew my own conclusions.”
“Is she pretty?” Jackson’s cheeks bulged with food.
“Is who pretty?”
“Mr. Eikaas’s niece . . . is she pretty?”
Sam recalled the plucky blonde whose large, cornflower-blue eyes looked back at him with interest from beneath her bonnet. And pretty? As much as Sam hated to admit it, she was about the prettiest young lady he’d ever set eyes on.
Jackson elbowed him. “Hey, I asked you a question.”
Sam gave his younger brother an annoyed look. “Yeah, I s’pose she’s pretty. But don’t go getting any big ideas about me courting her. She’s an Eikaas.”
“You’re awful old to not be married yet.” Jack rolled his dark eyes.
“What do you know about it? I’m only twenty-one.” Sam grinned. “Hush up and eat.” It’s what the boy did best. “So . . . did everyone have a pleasant morning?” He forked another bite of food into his mouth, wondering why he tried so hard to shift the subject off of Lars Eikaas’s niece.

Kristin looked around the one-room shanty with its unhewn walls and narrow, bowed loft. Cotton squares of material covered the windows, making the heat inside nearly unbearable.
Disappointment riddled her being like buckshot. Although she knew she should feel grateful for journeying safely this far, and now to have a roof over her head, she couldn’t seem to shake her displeasure at seeing her relatives’ living quarters. It looked nothing like her uncle had described in his letters nor the homes she’d glimpsed on the way.
“Here is your trunk of belongings,” Uncle Lars said, carrying the wooden chest in on one of his broad shoulders. With a grunt, he set it down in the far corner of the cabin. “Where is my inheritance? Let me have a look at it.”
“Right now, Onkel?”
“Ja, ja . . .” Impatience filled his tone.
Pulling open the drawstring of her leather purse, she reached inside and extracted the key. She unlocked the trunk and opened its curved lid. Getting onto her knees, Kristin moved aside her clothes and extra shoes until she found what she searched for. Poppa’s gold watch. She held the black velvet-covered box reverently in her hands for one last, long moment before she stood and presented it to her uncle.
“This belonged to my poppa.”
“Ah . . .” Uncle Lars’s face lit up with delight as he opened the box. Looking to Aunt Esther, he nodded. “This will bring a fair price, do you think?”
Disbelief poured over her. “But . . . you would not sell Poppa’s watch, would you?”
“None of your business!”
Kristin jumped back at the biting reply. Her opinion of her uncle dropped like a rock into a cavern.
“Anything more?” Her uncle bent over the wooden chest and quickly rummaged through it, spilling clothes onto the unswept floor.
“Onkel, please, stop. My garments . . .”
“Does not seem to be anything else.” Uncle Lars narrowed his gaze. “Is there?”
“No.” The necklace Mor had given her burned against her already perspiring skin. Still, Kristin refused to part with the gift. “Nothing more. As you know, Poppa was a farmer. He supplemented his income by working at the post office, but no money was ever saved. After my parents died, I sold everything to help pay for a portion of my passage to America. I earned the rest myself.”
“Any money left?”
Kristin shook her head as she picked up the last of her belongings, careful not to meet her uncle’s stare. A little money remained in the special pocket she’d sewn into her petticoat. For safety, she’d kept her funds on her person throughout the entire voyage. The last of her coinage would purchase muchneeded undergarments. She’d managed to save it throughout the journey for the specific purpose of buying new foundations when she reached America. It wasn’t inherited. She’d worked hard for it.
With a grunt Uncle Lars turned and sauntered out of the cabin.
“You will sleep in the loft with your cousins.” Aunt Esther’s tone left no room for questions or argument. Wearing a plain, brown dress with a tan apron pinned to its front, and with her dark brown hair tightly pinned into a bun, the older woman looked as drab as her surroundings. “Your uncle and I sleep on a pallet by the hearth.”
“Yes, Tante. I am sure I will be very comfortable.” Another lie.
“Come, let us eat.” Aunt Esther walked toward the hearth where a heavy black kettle sat on top of a low-burning fire. “There is venison stew for our meal.”
“It sounds delicious.” Kristin’s stomach growled in anticipation. She’d eaten very little on the ship this morning. Excitement plus the waves on Lake Michigan made eating impossible. But after disembarking in Green Bay, her stomach began to settle, and now she was famished.
Aunt Esther called everyone to the table, which occupied an entire corner of the cabin. Her three children, two girls and one boy, ranging in ages from seven to sixteen, came in from outside, as did the Olstads. After a wooden bowl filled with stew was set before each person, the family clasped hands and recited a standard Norwegian prayer . . .
I Jesu navn gar vi til bords,—We sit down in the name of Jesus,
Spise drikke pa ditt ord,—To eat and drink according to Your
Word,
Deg Gud til are, oss til gavn,—To Your honor, Oh Lord, and
for our benefit,
Sa far vi mat i Jesu navn.—We receive food in the name of
Jesus.
Amen.
Having said grace, hands were released, and everyone picked up a spoon and began to eat. Kristin noticed her cousins, Inga and Anna, eyeing her with interest. They resembled their father, blonde curls and blue eyes.
“What do you like to do on sunny afternoons such as this one?” she asked cheerfully, hoping to start conversation. After all, Inga’s age was close to hers. Perhaps her cousin would help her meet friends.
“We do not talk at the table,” Aunt Esther informed her. “We eat, not talk.”
“Yes, Tante.” Kristin glanced at Peder and Mr. Olstad who replied with noncommittal shrugs and kept eating.
Silently, Kristin did the same. The Olstads always had lively discussions around their table.
When the meal ended, the girls cleared the table and the men took young Erik and ambled outside.
“May I help with cleaning up?” Kristin asked her aunt.
“No. You rest today and regain your strength. Tomorrow we are invited to a wedding, the day after is the Sabbath. Then beginning on Monday, you will labor from sunup to sunset like everyone else in this place.”
“Except for one,” Inga quipped. No one but Kristin heard.
“Who?” Her lips moved, although she didn’t utter a sound.
“Far, that is who.” Disrespect seeped from Inga’s tone, which was loud and clear.
Hadn’t Aunt Esther overheard it?
Tante suddenly whirled around and glared at Kristin. “Do something with yourself. We are working here.”
With a frown, Kristin backed away. Her aunt’s brusque manner caused her to feel weary and more homesick than
ever. She missed her parents and her little brothers. Why did God take them, leaving her to live life without them? And Sylvia . . . how she longed for her best friend!
Kristin knelt by the trunk and carefully lifted out a soft, knitted shawl that had once belonged to her mother, Lydia Eikaas. Mor had been an excellent seamstress, expert in spinning wool into yarn and thread, as well as in weaving and sewing garments. She’d taught Kristin everything she knew about the craft. Surely Kristin could now put her skills to good use in this new country, this land of opportunity.
She sighed and glanced over to where her aunt and two cousins continued straightening up after the meal. Inga and Anna barely smiled, and her aunt’s expression seemed permanently frozen into a frown. Is that what this country really afforded . . . misery?
Allowing her gaze to wander around the dismal cabin once more, Kristin began to wish she had not come to America.

Mornings with Jesus 2012 - Litfuse Tour & Giveaway

2012-01-30T06:47:00.000-05:00

About the book:

"Be still and know that I am God.” is one of the most beautiful verses from the Bible, but it’s not easy to practice in this busy world. Mornings with Jesus will help you do just that—“be still” in Jesus’ beautiful and powerful presence. For those who are seeking a deeper experience in their relationship with Christ, Mornings with Jesus offers a fresh perspective of who Jesus is (the Healer, the Son of God, the Comforter, the Good Shepherd) and what that means for day-to-day life. With a warm and friendly voice, 365 short devotional writings on the character and teachings of Jesus encourage readers to greet each day by drawing near to Him and inviting His presence into their day. Spend time with Jesus at the beginning of each day and experience His nearness and peace in a new way throughout the year. Each day’s selection includes: • a Bible verse • an entry based on Jesus: His words, miracles, and parables; His wisdom, compassion, and comfort; His mystery, power, divinity, and humanity • a “faith step” that will inspire and challenge readers to apply the day’s message to their lives.

Available from Amazon

My Thoughts:

I'll admit, I'm one that prefers to curl up with my Bible at night instead of starting off with some readings in the morning. Mornings always seem so rushed and makes it almost impossible to have time to read and get something from what I'm reading.

"Mornings with Jesus" offers a Bible verse, a nice short devotional and a Faith Step that may challenge the reader to apply the reading throughout their day. Unlike many of the devotionals that I have read, this one is written by seven well known and loved authors: Tricia Goyer, Judy K. Baer, Gwen Ford Faulkenberry, Sharon Hinck, Keri Wyatt Kent, Camy Tang, and Erin Keeley Marshall, giving it more of a personal feel - like chatting over a cup of tea with a friend.

This book is designed to read one devotional a day and each are dated, but in the back there is also an index by subject. This is nice for those that need to concentrate on something at a particular time. This makes the devotional even more personal and possibly more useful when you really need that extra help.

Those that follow my blog know that my husband was let go from his job of 24 years due to downsizing and eliminating his position. This has been a real time of change and one day in particular, we were struggling with the news of how much health insurance will be running on top of everything else. That meant we had to cut back even more than we have been. I needed my devotion to address my situation, so I went to the index and found an entry written by Kari Wyatt Kent addressing the subject of economy (Tuesday, Oct. 9). Keri addresses pruning unneeded items from your life. With less "stuff" to focus on and fill you life with, you will have more compassion and will be more likely to rely on God and pray more. This was fantastic and exactly what I needed to read that day!

I love reading the entries by the authors every day, but I don't care for the use of different versions for the Bible quotes. I prefer a one version focus and when a book/writer does this, it feels like the version that is used matches what the author wants to say more than the author matching their thoughts to what the verse says.

In conclusion, this is still a very nice devotional and gives a nice start to each and every day! Please note - this is not designed to replace your regular Bible study/reading.

See what others are saying here.

Win a copy of Mornings with Jesus

Guideposts was generous and sent me two copies of this book - one to review and one to give away to one lucky reader. If you would like to add this beautiful book to your library, please fill out the form below. Please note that since I am mailing the book personally, I will need to keep my costs down - so the drawing is only open to those who live in the US. Drawing ends Feb 12.

<p>&amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;Loading...&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;gt;</p>

I received a copy of this book to read and honestly review for this tour.

Unhallowed Ground by Mel R. Starr

2012-01-27T12:40:00.000-05:00

Unhallowed Ground
The Fourth Chronicle of Hugh de Singleton, Surgeon
Author: Mel Starr
Publisher: Monarch Books
ISBN: 978-0-85721-058-6
Paperback
240 pages
Publication: January 2012

About the Book:

Thomas atte Bridge, a man no one likes, is found hanging from a tree near Cowleys Corner. All assume he has taken his own life, but Master Hugh and Kate find evidence that this may not be so.

Many of the town had been harmed by Thomas, and Hugh is not eager to send one of them to the gallows. Then he discovers that the priest John Kellet, atte Bridge’s partner in crime in A Corpse at St. Andrew's Chapelwas covertly in Bampton at the time atte Bridge died.

Master Hugh is convinced that Kellet has murdered atte Bridge--one rogue slaughtering another. He sets out for Exeter, where atte Bridge now works. But there he discovers that the priest is an emaciated skeleton of a man, who mourns the folly of his past life. Hugh must return to Bampton and discover which of his friends has murdered his enemy.

Read an excerpt of Unhallowed Ground here

My Thoughts:

Unhallowed Ground is the fourth book in the "Chronicles of Hugh de Singleton, Surgeon", however it is easily read as a stand-alone. This is the first of the series I have read, and I found no problems with starting at this point. There is enough information and character development that I could easily connect and not feel lost.

Taking place in 14th Century Bampton, England, Unhallowed Ground centers around Master Hugh de Singleton who is both a surgeon and bailiff to Sir Gilbert. Master Hugh is a walking contradiction because he's looked at with suspicion because of his job as bailiff and revered because of being a good surgeon. This makes for a very interesting protagonist.

Written in first person and being able to see through the eyes of Master Hugh was fascinating and made for a captivating and unforgettable story. When he sees Thomas atte Bridge hanging from the tree and studies him, he discovers that the apparent suicide is possibly not a suicide at all. As he continues his investigation, he discovers not only was Thomas atte Bridge a despicable man (worse than he originally knew), but he wrestles with the thought of possibly arresting a neighbor or "good" person who was involved in the murder.

Master Hugh is newly married and discusses this information with his wife, Kate. She is an intelligent woman who also noticed from the beginning that Thomas atte Bridge's death was not as it seemed. With each dead end Master Hugh would hit, Kate would be there as a sounding board and help him decide if it was worth continuing the investigation.

This book was an amazing read! I am so taken with the writing style of Mr. Starr, that I really want to read all the books in this series. He is truly a brilliant writer who seems to effortlessly bring to life 14th Century England. His prose and ability to describe in detail day-to-day life transports the reader back in time and allows on to actually feel like they are a part of that time period.

This book comes HIGHLY recommended!

About the Author:

Mel Starr was born and grew up in Kalamazoo, Michigan. After graduating with a MA in history from Western Michigan University in 1970, he taught history in Michigan public schools for thirty-nine years, thirty-five of those in Portage, MI, where he retired in 2003 as chairman of the social studies department of Portage Northern High School. Mel and his wife, Susan, have two daughters and seven grandchildren.

I received a copy of "Unhallowed Ground" to read and honestly review for this tour.

Whither Thou Goest, I Will Go by Naomi Dathan

2012-01-25T01:00:00.000-05:00

Today's Wild Card author is:

Naomi Dathan

and the book:

Whither Thou Goest, I Will Go

Kirkdale Press (November 27, 2011)

***Special thanks to Ryan Rotz, Publicist, Kirkdale Press for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Naomi Dathan has been fascinated with prairie life since her third grade teacher read Little House in the Big Woods to the class. She finally indulged this fascination with her fourth novel, Whither Thou Goest, I Will Go. She lives in Ohio with her two daughters and two undersized beagles with oversized egos.

Check out her witty blog http://naomidathan.com

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

For everything there is a season. A season for joy. A season for sorrow. A season for testing.

Jem Perkins has it all – money, a fine house, a handsome husband, and a new baby boy. But when her family fortunes turn, Jem’s husband Seth leads her to a new home: a sod house on a Nebraska homestead.

It is a season of growth for Jem as she reluctantly confronts her new realities: back-breaking labor, dangerous illness, and mind-numbing isolation. She learns to embrace her new role as a capable woman and marriage partner and discovers an awareness of God’s hand in her life.

Then, on January 12, 1888, the history-making Children’s Blizzard sweeps across the land, ushering in a season of hardship she never expected. Can Jem’s confidence, marriage, and new-found faith weather the storm?

$.99 Sale!

Buy the ebook Whither Thou Goest, I Will Go from Vyrso for $.99. Use the coupon code WILDCARD at checkout or simply click HERE.
Offer ends this Friday.

Whither is also available for Kindle, Nook, Kobo, iBooks, and Google Books.

About Vyrso
Vyrso is a new Christian ebookstore and reader app from Logos Bible Software. You can read Vyrso ebooks on your iPad, iPhone, Android tablet or phone, and online at Biblia.com.

Product Details:

Kindle Price: $6.15

Format: Kindle Edition
File Size: 382 KB
Simultaneous Device Usage:Unlimited
Publisher: Kirkdale Press (November 27, 2011)
Sold by:Amazon Digital Services
Language: English
ASIN: B006FK72QE
Text-to-Speech: Enabled
Lending: Enabled

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

January 12, 1888

      At midnight, Charley woke shivering in his trundle bed. “Ma?”
      He rose, but couldn’t see his mother’s form in the faltering lamplight. “Ma? Mom-mom?”
      Still no answer. The cast iron stove was dark and silent. The wind outside howled like a wolf, and caught at the door of the sod house, swinging it open and shut.
      Where was Ma? Why wasn’t she making the stove hot or snuggling him warm under the covers? Was she outside with the wind-wolf?
      Charley went toward the door. Ice blew into his eyes, making them water. But he wasn’t crying. Not yet. Warmth brushed his legs, a wetness caressed his cheek. The big dog, Zeke, curled his shaggy body against Charley, pushing him backward—away from the open door.
      Charley pushed back and shook his finger at him. “No! Bad.”
      Zeke whined and pressed harder. Charley fell, landing on something warm and solid. It didn’t hurt, but he set to wailing anyway, protesting his alone state, his empty belly, and the bitter cold that bit at his eyes and ears and nostrils like fierce ants.
      No one came to comfort him, so his cries soon dried up. He scuttled across the still form on the floor, pausing at a tinkling sound. “Ging,” he said, remembering. “Ging, ging, ging.”
      The bell. Pa had rung the bell today. Ding, ding, ding. He’d stoked the fire high and hot, gave Charley cold mash to eat, and clung to the doorframe, ringing and ringing the bell. Once, Pa had fallen to the dirt floor, but after a long while, he pushed himself upright, clutched the doorframe, and rang the bell again.
      Now Pa was on the floor again, unmoving.
      Charley stepped on Pa’s head as he went to look outside “ Ma!” The storm sucked his voice away so fast that he didn’t even hear himself. The winds answered in high voices, scared and scary at the same time. Was Ma out there in the black with the wind voices?
      At last, Charley made up his mind. With Zeke making little worried sounds close beside him, Charley stepped out into the blizzard to find Ma.

***

August 14, 1886 (Seventeen months before)
      The Reynolds’s tea was well attended, but the August heat oppressed the guests, subduing the conversation to a languid pace. Servants discreetly watered—and even fanned—the profusion of roses arranged in vases through the room. Ladies and gentlemen sipped English tea and nibbled at scones and trifles to be polite, waiting for the blessed moment when they could return home, untie their cravats and corsets, and have a cool bath.
      Jem Perkins had nothing but sympathy for the wilting flowers. She sank onto a thickly upholstered chair next to her sister and fanned herself.
      “Can we go home now?” she whispered.
      “Hush!” Sally hissed, shooting a worried glance toward their hosts. “Mrs. Reynolds has been planning this tea for weeks. And we haven’t even greeted the guest of honor yet.”
      Hiding behind her fan, Jem peeked at Mrs. Ashley Grayson, seated near the window. She couldn’t hear what Mrs. Grayson said, but it drew appreciative laughter from the surrounding crowd. Jem smiled at her sister with her eyes. “She does feed off the adoration, doesn’t she?”
      Sally frowned. “Oh, Jem, I’m sure that’s not fair. Mrs. Grayson deserves credit for starting the Children’s Board.”
      “Of course she does! But don’t you think she has a bit of the look a cat gets when he’s found a sunny spot on the windowsill?”
      Sally pursed her lips. “You could have worked with her, Jem. I know she asked you to. Then you’d be right up there beside her.”
      Wasn’t that just like Sally, to make out that Jem was jealous. What had she to be jealous of?
      Jem fanned herself again, waiting until her irritation ebbed before answering. After all, it wouldn’t do for Jem—the married woman—to engage in sibling squabbling with her poor spinster sister. Once satisfied that there would be only kindness in her voice, she answered. “I was hardly in a position to take on an outside project right then, was I? A woman’s first responsibility is to her family. Perhaps you’ll understand … one day.”
      Sally’s cheeks went pink as the arrow found its mark. She was Jem’s elder by three years, poor thing, and she didn’t even have a serious beau. She sniffed. “I’m sure that was it. I’m sure it wasn’t because you discovered that setting up a charitable foundation actually requires a great deal of work.”
      That stung. Jem lowered her fan. “Now you’re just being cruel. You know I work very hard, Sally. Look at how many hours I put into the flower garden last year.”
      “And then you lost interest and Rogers had to take it over.”
      “And think of all the poetry I’ve written. You’ve never written a poem in your life!”
      “And I’m better off for it.”
      “At least I’m trying things. Maybe I haven’t found my true calling yet, but you shouldn’t fault me for trying.”
      Sally opened her mouth, but then shut it again, holding up a restraining palm. “Oh, we’re quarreling like children.” She sighed. “I apologize. I’m sure you have found your true calling, Jem. I’m sure your true calling is motherhood. You’re wonderful with Charley, and what’s more important than raising a happy, healthy child?”
      Jem settled back in her seat, buying herself a minute by sipping her iced tea. Sally would never have apologized a year ago, would certainly have never offered a compliment. It was disconcerting, really. “It is hot,” she offered.
      Seeing Sally relax, she did too, leaning forward to whisper to her. “And boring. I know Mrs. Grayson deserves all of our admiration. I do, truly. But I’m so tired of seeing all the same people and having all the same conversations, day after day. This city is chockfull of people, but you couldn’t tell by us.”
      “There’s the doorbell,” Sally said. “I’m sure it will be someone fascinating.”
      “Like Mark Twain?”
      “That’s right. Or Buffalo Bill.”
      Jem giggled. “How about Jesse James?”
      “I think he’s dead. Wasn’t he killed? Oh—” Her tone changed abruptly. “Look. It is someone new.”
      Jem looked. Her fan froze. The tall man stood in the entry to the parlor, his bearing military even out of uniform. He bowed slightly to Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds, shook Mr. Reynolds’s hand, and exchanged greetings with surrounding guests. Feminine eyes followed his progress as he strode in, but he didn’t seem to notice. His pewter gray eyes scanned the crowd, and landed on Jem.
      She returned his gaze, then lowered her attention to her skirts. “Well, now. The new guest is dashing, wouldn’t you say, Sally?”
      Sally made a haughty harrumph. “Oh, Sister, he looks to be a bit of a ruffian to me. Like someone who spends time in the Wild West. You’d do well to stay away from him, I think.”
      Jem murmured her agreement and peeked at the man over her fan again. His eyes were still on her. “I believe I’ll have some refreshment.”
      She approached the buffet table, turning her back on the man. Her sister was at her elbows, but when she felt Sally withdraw, she knew the man was approaching. She peeked at him over her shoulder while she ladled pink punch into a glass. He removed his derby and offered a slight bow.
      “Ma’am.”
      “Lieutenant.”
      His lips twitched at her return address, or perhaps at the Virginia drawl that had crept into the single word. “I wonder if I might join you for a beverage.”
      “Why, sir, as a guest of this tea party, you are as welcome as anyone to partake, I daresay.” Yes, the drawl of her childhood was definitely back, sliding through her words like sugarcane molasses.
      “Indeed,” the man said. He poured himself punch and downed it in a single motion. The glass looked ridiculous in his large hand, like a child’s play teacup. “I have to say, ma’am, that the scenery in St. Paul has certainly improved since my departure to Washington. I don’t remember such fine, dainty creatures as yourself frequenting the Reynolds’s teas in the past.”
      Jem smiled at that, but flushed a little, too. “Perhaps, sir, you are mistaking me for one of the young ladies playing Botticelli in the next room. I’m afraid I don’t particularly”—she took her time with the word, savoring each syllable as she hadn’t in years—“qualify as dainty anymore.”
      He imitated her accent, exaggerated it into a parody of a Virginia gentleman. “Why, ma’am, you are very mistaken, I’m sure. Why, you are the … the epitome of feminine beauty and delicacy. Your eyes are as blue as cornflowers. Your lips, well, they’re two precious little, uh, roses. In fact, I wonder if we could step out into the gardens and take a stroll together? Just the two of us?”
      “Why, sir! Surely you don’t expect me to leave this tea with you, unchaparoned. Think of the scandal.”
      He pressed his hand to his chest, gave her moon eyes. “Nothing of the sort, ma’am. I cherish your reputation as I would cherish, well, the soundness of my horse’s legs. I would die before compromising your honor. In fact, in order to protect your good name, I am willing to go this far: I will tell these people that we are married.”
      Jem started to giggle, then; she couldn’t help it. He grinned back at her, and the game was up. She threw her arms around his neck, in spite of all the company around. “Oh, Seth. I’m so glad you’re home. I thought you wouldn’t be back for two more weeks.”
      “Jem.” He put his arms around her waist and let out a long breath, letting his rigid stance relax. “This was long enough. I missed you. Can we break away from this tea? How is the baby?”
      “Oh, I hated to leave him. I think he might be getting diphtheria.”
      “Diphtheria?” He didn’t sound worried. In fact, he sounded a little amused. She backed out of his arms a little to frown at him.
      “Diphtheria is very serious.”
      “You’ve had the doctor by, I take it?”
      “Of course. Twice now.”
      “And he said?”
      “Oh, you know how Dr. Hollister is. You’d have to lay an egg for him to agree you have chicken pox.”
      Seth took her elbow lightly and led her through the parlor, nodding to the ladies, offering greetings to a few of the men. “Jemima, I’m sure Dr. Hollister would know if Charley had diphtheria. It’s very distinct.”
      “You know I worry. He coughs continually—all night long. And his nose is running.”
      “Darling, it sounds like he has a cold.” He led her to the front door, where they made their apologies to the Reynolds. “Come,” he said, as he led her to the carriage. “I’ll have a look. I certainly know what diphtheria looks like.”
      Before they’d stepped through the French doors of their home, they could hear Charley’s outraged screams ringing through the house. Jem dropped Seth’s arm and ran up the long, curving staircase, allowing him to follow when he would. “Charley! Oh, dear, what’s happened?”
      She stopped when she entered the nursery. Her boy was upright, clutching the bars of his crib with chubby fingers, red-faced and tearful, but otherwise apparently fine. “Oh, dear.” She hurried to lift him and snuggled him against her bosom. “What’s the matter, you poor little boy? Are you hurt?”
       Charley’s cries subsided. He rested his nearly bald head against her, hiccoughing.
      “Poor boy,” Jem crooned. “Mama’s here, now. Where’s Nursie, hmm? Didn’t she hear you cry?”
      “He has grown.” Seth’s voice came from the doorway. “Was he standing? When did he start that?”
      “Last week.” She smiled up at him, keeping her cheek pressed against the peach fuzz of Charley’s warm head. “I wrote to you about it, but I suppose you didn’t get the letter.”
      “No, but I haven’t stayed in one place for more than a night.” He sighed, came and wrapped his arms around Jem, enveloping her and the baby in a hug. “My family.”
      “Oh, no, ma’am!” Sophie’s voice was sharp. “He’s supposed to be napping.”
      Jem and Seth turned to look at the nurse. Her hands were closed into tight fists, pressed against her stout body as if she were restraining herself from snatching the child and putting him back in his crib.
      “Oh, but he was crying so hard. Poor boy.”
      “Good afternoon, Lieutenant. Welcome home,” Sophie said, then firmed her voice to Jem. “No, ma’am. Colonel Wilkinson was clear on that. The boy must stay in his crib for his nap. The colonel don’t want him spoiled.”
      Seth’s voice was pleasant. “Sophie, I believe you work for me, not Colonel Wilkinson.”
      “No, no.” Jem hurried to the crib. “It’s fine, Seth. Really. My father is right—you know I’ll spoil him.”
      She peeled Charley off her chest and set him in the crib. His screams renewed, broken by sobs. He rolled and pulled himself back up to his feet. Seth picked him up. Charley reached for his mother, but Seth didn’t hand him over.
      “Oh, Seth, really. My father is right.”
      “I haven’t seen my son in two months. I believe he and I will take a walk around the nursery.”
      Sophie gave Seth a long, tight-lipped look, and retreated from the room.
      “Oh, my,” Jem said. “She’ll let my father know. She always does.”
      “Darling, this isn’t your father’s child. It’s ours. Why does he have anything to say about when we hold him?”
      “You know how he worries. He wants the best for his only grandson.”
      Charley stopped reaching for his mother and stared up into Seth’s face.
      “Look, he remembers you.”
      Seth made a scoffing sound, but Jem saw he looked pleased. “He’s far too young. I’m glad he’s letting me hold him, though. So, other than this dire illness that has him at death’s door, he appears to be thriving.”
      Jem sighed. “You shouldn’t tease me, Seth. Ima Caldwell—do you remember her? She said her sister’s husband’s niece lost both of her little boys last winter—one to diphtheria, and the other to pneumonia. And Amy Wiley’s whole family is ill.”
      Seth sobered and kissed Charley’s head, holding him a little closer. “It’s terrible. I can’t imagine what they’ve suffered. But Charley is healthy. God has blessed us. Let’s thank Him for it, instead of borrowing trouble.”
      “Y—yes. I do, of course.”
      She shook her head. It was the sort of comment Sally had been prone to make lately. Seth had been no believer when they met; he’d gone to church only to please Jem and her family. But something had changed over the last year. Seth had changed.
      When he was home, he attended church on Sundays as well as a Bible study on Wednesday. He led prayer at mealtimes, even if it was only the two of them sitting at the long polished dining table. She tried to act like it was normal behavior—after all, she was the one who’d been brought up in the faith—but it was really rather embarrassing.
      “There, you see, Jem? He just needed a little walk.” Charley was settled against his father’s chest. His face had relaxed, his eyes closed in sleep.
      Jem plucked a cloth from the chest of drawers and swiped at the path of drool running down the baby’s chin. “You do remember about this part, don’t you?”
      Seth gave her a wry smile. “I tried to forget. I go through fewer shirts riding on top of the stage coach. Well, I suppose I should put him down.”
      Jem arranged the soft blankets in the crib. After Seth laid Charley on them, they stood side by side, admiring their little boy. “Isn’t he beautiful? I think he’s the prettiest baby in St. Paul.”
      Seth slid his arm around her waist. “By far the handsomest, anyway.” He sighed then. “Is your father at home today? I need to discuss some things with him. I didn’t see him at the Reynolds’s tea.”
      “He said he had business to attend to today. I’m not sure whether he’s at home or at the office. But, Seth, can’t it wait? You’ve just gotten home. Can’t we spend the rest of the afternoon together?”
      She looked up at him as she finished the question, and was surprised to see the grim expression on his face.
      “I’m afraid not, Jem,” he said. “I’m sorry; I know I just got home. But I have to handle some business.”
       She gave him a quick pout, making sure to smile with her eyes so he knew she was teasing. “It’s a shame, when a man would rather spend his homecoming with his father-in-law than with his wife.”
      Seth didn’t smile back, but he kissed her on the forehead. “I’ll be home in a couple of hours. We’ll have dinner together—just the two of us, all right?
      Jem wrapped her arms around his waist and accepted his embrace. “Hurry back. I’m sure my father will be glad to see you, anyway.”

Tour: Alienation by Jon S. Lewis - Review & iPad 2 Giveaway

2012-01-24T11:56:00.000-05:00

Alienation:
A C.H.A.O.S. Novel Book #2
Author: Jon S. Lewis
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
ISBN: 9781595547545
Genre: Juvenile Fiction, Science Fiction, General

About the Book:

After his parents were killed in a car accident, Colt McAllister was drawn into a world he thought only existed in comic books-one where mind control, jet packs, and flying motorcycles don't even scratch the surface.Along with his best friends Oz and Danielle, Colt is now training at the secret Central Headquarters Against the Occult and Supernatural academy. But strange accidents seem to follow him. . . even with the security of the school grounds. What first seems random soon turns deadly. But who is targeting Colt?As the alien invasions increase in frequency and force, C.H.A.O.S resources are taxed to the limit and they're forced to utilize the new recruits. In the midst of battle, Colt will discover some startling revelations . . . about himself, his friendship with Oz, and why he has been chosen to defeat this alien attack against earth.

My Thoughts:

Alienation is the second book in the C.H.A.O.S. series and like the first book, Invasion, it was a thrilling read. One of the few Christian fiction books geared towards teen males, this book will appeal because of the amount of action and comic book "feel" to the story line. Filled with aliens, fighting, good -vs- evil, a young hero and his friends, this will keep readers young and old as well as male and female, interested and on the edge of their seats!

Although this can be read as a stand-alone, I would strongly encourage the series to be read in order. There was so much that happened in Invasion, that one would appreciate Alienation even more reading the first book.

Jon S. Lewis spins a fascinating tale that really held my interest. I was a little surprised with the violence that was in the books, but then again, these are about war with the aliens. The Christian content is not overwhelming. In fact, it's quite subtle and comes across as normal in conversations and activities.

I am thrilled to see a clean read geared towards teen males. The market offers so much for the YA female so this not only refreshing but very exciting to me. I cannot wait to see what the next in the series holds in store for Colt, Oz and Danielle! This series comes highly recommended!

About the Author:

Jon S. Lewis is the coauthor of the Grey Griffins trilogy (over 500,000 books in print) and the upcoming Grey Griffins Clockwork Chronicles. He also writes for the DC COMICS family of publishers. He resides with his family in Arizona.

Win an iPad from @JonSLewis and @NelsonFiction in the Alienation iPad2 Giveaway!The invasion was only the beginning! Jon Lewis is celebrating the next adventure in his fast-paced C.H.A.O.S. series with an explosive giveaway!

One thrill-seeker will receive:

iPad2 with Wi-Fi
Copies of the C.H.A.O.S. novels, Invasion and Alienation

Enter today by clicking one of the icons below. But hurry, the giveaway ends at noon on February 7th. Winner will be announced at the Alienation Facebook Party on 2/7. Jon will be hosting an Author Chat, giving away copies of the books and gift certificates to iTunes and Amazon.com! Don't miss a second of the intrigue!

Grab your copy of Alienation and join Jon on the evening of February 7th for an author chat, spy training (How much do you know about alien invaders?) and lots of giveaways.

Don't miss a moment of the fun. RSVP today and tell your friends via FACEBOOK or TWITTER and increase your chances of winning. Hope to see you on the 31st!

Want to see more of what others think about this book? Make sure to visit others in the tour. The schedule can be found at: http://litfusegroup.com/blogtours/text/13451655)

I received a copy of "Alienation" to read and honestly review for this tour.

2012 and the Rise of the Secret Sect by Bob Thiel, Ph.D.

2012-01-24T10:57:00.001-05:00

2012 and the Rise of the Secret Sect
Author: Bob Thiel,Ph.D.
Publisher: Nazarene Books
Genre: non-fiction

About the Book:

No other book includes so many prophecies from the Mayan records, I Ching, Islam, Talmud, Catholic writings, Byzantine predictions, Hopis, Hindus, Buddhists, New Age Movement, Kenyan predictions, Book of Mormon, Chinese predictions, Tibetan writings, various scientists, and other sources in the light of Bible prophecy.

2012 and the Rise of the Secret Sect: A Revolutionary Spiritual and Physical Survival Guide for 2012-2020 is a groundbreaking investigative work that goes beyond way beyond the usual doomsday flaming meteor and tidal wave scenarios. Award-winning researcher and end time prophecy expert, Dr. Bob Thiel, disseminates and later compares ancient prophecies of the world's 11 major religions, explains which prophecies are not likely to occur and describes which world changing events are inevitable. Of particular interest to anyone interested in the events leading up to and following 2012 is the book's Sequential Order of Predictions, a comparable table and time line. A masterful and well-researched work unlike any other on the subject, 2012 and the Rise of the Secret Sect will change the way we look at, and prepare for, the most anticipated date in human history.

My Thoughts:

I almost passed up the chance to review this book, as most books on End-Times Prophecy seems to be unsubstantiated and with much opinion from the author(s). I'm not sure what made me agree to review this book, but when it arrived, I was very impressed with the amount of research that went into it.

I found that Dr. Thiel had a great many resources that he drew from, including different religions and history. Seeing this, I wasn't sure how dry the reading was going to be, but was pleased to discover that Dr. Thiel had written a very easy to read and understand book that laid out proof for the reader to draw their own conclusions on. Mind you, he does have is own opinions, and I won't say I agree with everything, but he has some very valid points.

I found that many interesting facts that show that although there are different religions, we really seem to believe much of the same things. This really was an eye-opener for me! I'm looking forward to really spending more time studying this book. I really didn't have the time to dig as deeply as I'd like because of my time frame to read for this tour. There is a wealth of information between the covers of this fascinating book!

I would recommend 2012 and the Rise of the Secret Sect to anyone that is interested in End-Times Prophecy or just to those interested in a well researched book about the ideas and prophecies of different religions/religious beliefs.

About the Author:

Bob Thiel, Ph.D., is a highly regarded researcher, biblical scholar, and one of the world's foremost authorities on end time prophecies. He holds a Bachelor's degree from the University of LaVerne, a Master's degree from the University of Southern California, and a Ph.D. from the Union Institute and University. Throughout his academic and professional career, he has studied philosophy, religion, science, and prophecy, while making multiple research trips to ancient sites in Central America, Asia Minor, Rome, and Greece. Dr. Thiel has been a guest on countless radio programs nationwide, and is Examiner.com's Los Angeles religious history and prophecy correspondent. His articles on prophecy, religion and science have appeared in several dozen magazines, newspapers, trade publications, and scientific journals. His videocasts are seen weekly on YouTube and to the hundreds of thousands of visitors to his site, COGwriter.

GIVEWAWAY!!!

Dr. Thiel has been very generous and has offered two copies of his book - one print for US readers and one in e-copy format for International readers of this blog. For a chance to win this amazing book, please fill out the form below:

<p>&amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;gt;Loading...&amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;gt;</p>I received a copy of this book to read and honestly review for this tour.

Growing Great Kids: Partner with God to cultivate His purpose in your child's life by Kate Battistelli

2012-01-24T10:20:00.000-05:00

Today's Wild Card author is:

Kate Battistelli

and the book:

Growing Great Kids: Partner with God to cultivate His purpose in your child's life

Charisma House (January 3, 2012)

***Special thanks to Jon Wooten of Charisma House for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Kate Battistelli is a wife, former Broadway actress, and mom to one of Christian music’s most celebrated new recording artists—Grammy-nominated, Christian contemporary singer-songwriter Francesca Battistelli. Kate currently writes a popular blog at TheKitchenPrincess.com, volunteers at ESTHER Single Mothers Outreach, and is thoroughly enjoying her newest role as grandmother to Francesca’s first child, Matthew Elijah.

Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Help your child become everything God made them to be.

Successful adults don’t happen by accident. It takes wisdom to raise your children with a strong sense of their destiny in God and a deep knowledge of their gifts and callings.

In Growing Great Kids, Kate Battistelli shares what she and her husband, Mike, learned about parenting during the journey of raising their daughter—Dove Award–winning recording artist Francesca Battistelli. Using anecdotes to illustrate the insights she and her husband gained, she provides practical advice including:

* How to dream God’s big dream for your child
* The value of humility and integrity
* How to interpret God’s seasons in a child’s life
* The power of a parent’s words, and more

Product Details:

List Price: $14.99

Paperback: 240 pages
Publisher: Charisma House (January 3, 2012)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1616386541
ISBN-13: 978-1616386542

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Chapter 1: Gifts and Callings
When my daughter was little, she definitely had a flair for the dramatic. She was fun-loving but with a serious side and a true sense of right and wrong. There was a Burger King commercial on television back then and the tag line was “Sometimes you just gotta break the rules!” Each time it would come on TV, Franny would loudly shout, “No, you don’t! You don’t break the rules!”
She loved to sing and dance and change her outfit half a dozen times a day, and I began to have a sense that maybe my little drama queen was inclined toward the performing arts. So like millions of moms do every day, I signed her up for ballet lessons. To say she loved it would be an understatement. She took to it like a duck to water—loving the pink tights, the hair in a bun, and especially when Miss Gina would single her out for a word of encouragement!
As time went on I started getting the sense that maybe God had something more for her in the performing arts. That’s when we intentionally began to take steps to expose her to the arts in a variety of small ways such as seeing the annual production of The Nutcracker at Christmas, watching old movie musicals, and taking her to children’s theater productions. We didn’t take huge steps, but we made small investments to see how she responded and to see if my hunch was right. For her seventh birthday we took her to see the Broadway production of The Secret Garden, and she was completely captivated with the show and with musical theater in general from that moment on. That’s when my husband and I really began praying about her future and what more we might do to help mine the treasure in her.
Mining the Greatness
Mine (noun):
1.an excavation made in the earth for the purpose of extracting ores, coal, precious stones, etc.
2. a place where such minerals may be obtained, either by excavation or by washing the soil.
3. a natural deposit of such minerals.1
Precious metals and precious stones are embedded in rocks and have to be extracted. Metals especially don’t generally appear in nature in their pure form. Shafts and tunnels are cut into the earth. The rock is quarried and then smelted with heat to remove the dross from the ore. It’s a difficult, tedious process, and it takes time and effort. The results, however, are certainly worth the effort to tap those precious veins beneath the earth.
Our children’s gifts are sometimes buried deep. It’s up to us to mine the gift in them, extract it, and allow it to be shaped and polished to be useful in building the kingdom of God. The effort requires selfless dedication on our part and an investment of time and finances, but one that pays lifelong dividends in the life of your child.
What is God showing you about your child? What traits is he expressing? What most interests or intrigues him? Is he outgoing or introspective? Is he intellectual or athletic? Is he artistic and creative or mechanically minded and good with his hands? And what are the dreams you have inside for him? Do you have a knowing deep inside about his life? Has God given you a glimpse into his future? What do you see when you pray for him?
I believe it’s my job to find out who God made my child to be. What particular path has He set for him? What’s unique about his personality, gifts, talents, and aspirations? How do I help him find the life God has already planned for him? What is God’s purpose for his life and how do I train him to accomplish his purpose?
Psalm 139:13–16 says it so beautifully:
      For You formed my inward parts; You covered me in my mother’s womb. I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; marvelous are Your works, and that my soul knows very well. My frame was not hidden from You, when I was made in secret, and skillfully wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed. And in Your book they all were written, the days fashioned for me, when as yet there were none of them.
He knows our paths and has already written them in His book!
I don’t claim to be an expert in child rearing, but I am an expert in raising my child. Just as you are an expert in raising your child. The fact is, no one knows your child better than you, and as your child grows and develops, his gifts and talents will be more obvious to you than to anyone else.

Train up a child in the way he should go [and in keeping with his individual gift or bent], and when he is old he will not depart from it. —Proverbs 22:6, amp
Parents, we are the trainers, and train is an active word! We train the whole child in the Word and godliness, in faith and biblical principles. We train them to obey and honor Him in thought, word, and deed. We train them to pursue their future careers and callings. We do them a great disservice if we take this responsibility lightly. God has given us a sacred trust by allowing us to be the stewards of our children. Here is the note on this scripture in my Spirit -Filled Life Bible: “Train up” has the idea of a parent graciously investing in a child whatever wisdom, love, nurture, and discipline is needed for him to become fully committed to God. It presupposes the emotional and spiritual maturity of the parent to do so. “In the way he should go” is to do the training according to the unique personality, gifts, and aspirations of the child. It also means to train the child to avoid whatever natural tendencies he might have that would prevent total commitment to God (for example, a weak
will, a lack of discipline, a susceptibility to depression). Hence, the promise is that proper development
insures the child will stay committed to God.2  There are many good resources available on how to raise your child in “the nurture and admonition of the Lord” (Eph. 6:4, kjv).I’m trying to convey something else in this book. If you are a Christian parent, it’s a given that you will raise your child to love God with all his heart, soul, mind, and strength. Teaching our children to know and love God and to delight in Him should be our highest aim as we raise our kids.
My goal is to inspire you to partner with God to mine the greatness that’s lying dormant in your child. Each of us is capable of far more than we think we are. I truly believe we are capable of greatness and we shouldn’t be afraid to pursue it. God will show you the gifts and talents, the callings and destiny residing in your child. For your children to become all that God has designed them to be, means you have to be willing to go the extra mile and not assume they will simply “figure it out” when they are grown.
Too many parents seem content to allow their children to drift into young adulthood and then wonder what turned them into adultolescents (a person who has physically matured to adulthood, yet still behaves like an adolescent) and why they seem to have no direction in life. Childhood is an innocent time of wonder and discovery and endless possibilities, and it desperately requires our care, nurturing, and firm direction! Helping your child to explore life’s endless possibilities will open the floodgates to dreaming big dreams. As time goes on, with your guidance, he will narrow his choices, focus on what really interests him and embark on the path to building a future in the center of God’s will for his life.
I firmly believe God shows parents from the time their kids are small what He has invested in them. He shows us their bent and our job is to dig deep and find the depth of the gifts and callings buried inside. It is important we are not too busy or distracted with life to see what God is eager to reveal to us in each of our children.
Bumps Along the Road
When Franny had just turned twenty years old she backed into a lawyer’s car, in the lawyer’s driveway, after the lawyer had warned her to “be careful not to back into my car.” Naturally she felt foolish and was extremely upset. She knew Dad was likely to ask his famous twenty questions when she got home and was not looking forward to it. As she was driving home, she began crying and praying. The Lord began to speak to her heart,
reminding her she wasn’t perfect and it was OK with Him. He made her the way she was and to just relax and trust Him. She began singing this chorus: “I got a couple dents in my fender, got a couple rips in my jeans, try to fit the pieces together but perfection is my enemy. And on my own I’m so clumsy, but on Your shoulders I can see, I’m free to be me.”3
The next day she sat on the end of her bed and played for her dad and me the finished song God had dropped in her spirit during the drive home the day before. It might sound crazy, but as soon as I heard it, I knew this was a hit song. This occurred way before Franny moved to Nashville, had signed a record deal, or had any inkling anything like that was even possible. But I knew, because God knew and was just sharing my daughter’s
future with me. Three years later, “Free to Be Me” was the first single by a female artist to hit number one at Christian radio in eight years, remaining at number one for ten weeks!
Grammy Story
People ask me all the time, “Did you ever think your daughter would do so well?” “Did you ever think you would hear her on the radio?” or “Are you surprised by her success?” The answers are yes, yes, and no! Mike and I always had a “knowing” deep inside about her career path as she got older. We sensed where God was going, and we let Him plant big dreams in us for her. From the time she was fifteen and beginning to pursue music more seriously, we would watch the televised Grammy Awards every year and every year I would say to her, “You’re going to be up there one day.” I don’t know why I said it; I just knew deep down it was true and, knowing words have creative power, I believed it important to actually speak it out.
I found an old journal recently and in thumbing through it, came across this entry. February 28, 2002:
      Hi, Lord. It’s me, bugging You! Last night we watched the
      Grammys and Franny’s emotions were so stirred she cried
      through much of it. Mike says I set her expectations too high,
      but I believe if You are going to go for something, go for the
      highest. It’s not that it’s so important to win an award but
      winning represents being at a level where you have respect
      and acceptance. I know she is willing to work hard and
      she will work hard. Show her mercy and encourage her in
      all her hard work. Let her redouble her efforts and give it
      everything she’s got. Show her Your favor and love. Raise
      her up in the music business and let her be a shining, warm,
      beautiful light. Give Mike and I wisdom with how to guide
      her. Thanks, Lord!
In December 2009, seven years after I wrote in my journal, Franny was nominated for a Grammy Award in the Best Gospel Performance category for her song “Free to Be Me”! People asked me if I was surprised and truly I can say I wasn’t. I’d been praying about it for seven years! I was thrilled of course, but not surprised. It was just one more confirmation of what I already knew. She hasn’t won a Grammy yet, but I’m still praying!
My Story and I’m Sticking to It
Franny comes by her gifts naturally. She has the added benefit of parents who happened to stumble upon, believe in, and latch onto God’s principles for growing great kids. While it is certainly an unmistakable advantage to be raised immersed in these principles, successful adults can and do spring from circumstances where these principles are absent, but perhaps at play to some degree in the background. I didn’t have parents who followed these principles, yet I was able to dig down deep and define what I wanted in life and pursue it. However, I wouldn’t recommend rolling the dice with your children by failing to employ every asset in your parenting arsenal to stack the deck in favor of your child’s future.
I grew up in circumstances quite different from those I trumpet on these pages, and yet somehow found a successful future in spite of it. My life’s circumstances led me on a journey that took its inevitable detours, but it’s my life story and I’m sticking to it! Just so you have a little background and can understand better where I’m coming from, here’s my story.
I grew up in an encouragement vacuum. My parents had four kids, and I assumed my place tucked right in the middle at number three. As a child of the 1950s and 1960s and the conventional worldview of parenting in quasi-Christian homes during that era, my parents were busy with the social priorities of their all-American suburban lives.
As far as spirituality and growing up, I remember two things vividly about God. I remember being in Sunday school at maybe four or five years old and singing “Jesus Loves Me This I Know,” and completely believing it was true. Whoever Jesus was, I knew He loved me. The other thing I recall was thinking to myself when I was about six that I didn’t ever want to die and if there was a way to live forever, I was going to find it.
I grew up attending the Episcopal Church. I learned all about the life of Jesus, but I never knew Him in a personal way and I didn’t know He could live in my heart. I enjoyed church. The mystery and beauty of the liturgy, the candles and communion, the fragrant flowers, beautiful stained glass, and impressive organ music all contributed to my feeling of awe about God and awareness of my insignificance. Our church had beautiful stone
floors so your footsteps echoed as you walked along. I loved the hymns we sang and the readings from the Book of Common Prayer and the mystery of taking communion. I knew God was contained in all those things, but I didn’t sense a clear pathway to meet Him. It was His house after all, but how did you take Him home?
To her credit, my mom had us kneel by our beds every night to say the Lord’s Prayer and blessings over the family. My grandfather was a man of strong faith. He used to read Bible stories to us when we stayed over, and he would make them come alive. We would beg him for just one more! He would write in his Bible and underline scripture, something I take after him in. We could often find Grandpa stretched out over the couch in his office praying for what seemed like hours. We always knew not to disturb him during those times. He was not a perfect man by any means but those things I witnessed in him. His love for God and his devotion to his church and family have stuck with me all these years.
My childhood was pleasant with the typical ups and downs but no major traumas or tragedies. I rarely heard words that affirmed my value and potential or words encouraging me to believe the world was my oyster and I could be anything I wanted to be. There were lots of arguments between my parents and all the siblings. Expectations were high of course, but there was precious little praise and encouragement to attain them and far too much criticism. Somewhere in adolescence my self-esteem began to suffer, and I no longer felt comfortable sharing openly with my parents. My future lacked any kind of shape with no real direction. I didn’t have a clear cut path to run on with lots of support and nurturing. So I floated through high school. I floated through four colleges in two years. I was adrift with no focus and no goals.
I knew from the time I was a little girl that I loved to sing. It was my one passion, and I did what I could to develop my singing in high school. I joined the choir and did the yearly high school musical. We happened to have a wonderful and dedicated voice teacher at my high school, so I took advantage of her lessons. But I was pretty much on my own in my pursuit of music.
I asked my mom years later why she never pushed me or encouraged me in music and her response was fairly typical for her generation. She felt if it was really something I wanted to do, I’d pull myself up by my own initiative and make it happen. Actually, she was right. It’s exactly what I did, but I think I would have avoided a great many pitfalls along the way if I’d had her support.
As it happened, I discovered musical theater when I turned twenty. I began working in a local community theater where I lived in New Jersey and in two years performed in more than fifteen productions. I got a crash course in musical theater to say the least! I stumbled on an article in a magazine about goal setting and because it made logical sense to me, I started setting some practical goals. Not long after, I was auditioning for roles in New York City. I got my Actors’ Equity card and started doing lots of regional theater, actually surviving as a working
actor—barely.
I began working with an agent, and he secured me an audition for the Broadway national tour of The King and I starring Yul Brynner. My audition was for the role of the understudy for the part of “Anna,” played by Deborah Kerr in the movie. I was a young actress in my twenties, and this was by far the biggest thing that had come along for me. To make a long story short, I got the role of the understudy and happily packed my steamer trunk and went out on the road. I faithfully rehearsed my part never thinking I would ever really get the chance to perform. But when preparation meets opportunity, miracles can happen!
Life Comes at You Fast
About two months into the run of the show, I arrived at the theater around 7:15 p.m. for the 8:00 p.m. curtain only to find out the leading lady was sick and I was going on for the first time as the leading lady in forty-five minutes! I knew my part well but had never worn the costumes or handled the props, let alone been onstage with Yul Brynner! I was freaking out, but I had to focus and get ready. The night turned out well and I got to perform the role of Anna for two weeks while the leading lady was out with pneumonia. In the end, Yul Brynner (who not only starred in the show but was also one of its producers) preferred me in the role so he bought out the leading lady’s contract and offered me the role of a lifetime! It was an amazing time for me. I was privileged to play the part of Anna more than a thousand times, before more than a million theatergoers, over the next two-and-a-half years!
The best part of the entire experience though, was meeting my husband, Mike. He joined the tour about six months into the run of the show as the associate conductor and, as he likes to say, we literally fell in love across the footlights!
After performing eight shows a week for the next two-and-ahalf years, we left the tour, moved back to New York City, got married, bought a little condo in Greenwich Village and began our new life together. A year later, we found ourselves answering an altar call and giving our hearts to the Lord. Franny was born a year later, and we thoroughly enjoyed our new little family amid all the excitement of living and working in the hustle and bustle of New York’s music and theater world.
It wasn’t long, though, before we began to feel the tug on our hearts to lay down the business we had worked so hard to find our way in and follow what God had in store for us next. Bucking conventional wisdom, but following what we believed was God’s best for our family, we eventually left New York and our careers behind to embark on building a new life that included moving to the suburbs, starting a new business, and homeschooling our little girl.
Meet My Husband, Mike
Mike comes from a family without a rich musical heritage. In his case, however, his parents were very encouraging and supported his early interest in music. They purchased the finest musical instruments they could afford, drove him to weekly trumpet lessons at the Juilliard School preparatory division, and sacrificed to send him to National Music Camp in Interlochen, Michigan, during the summer. He later graduated from Interlochen Arts Academy, received his bachelor’s degree from the Eastman School of Music, and went on to earn his master’s and doctorate in music. He was a studio musician and played trumpet and flugelhorn in Broadway pit orchestras and musically directed and conducted on Broadway, on national tour, and at Radio City Music Hall. In his case, he was the first in his family who expressed any gifting in music. Often children inherit their parents’ gifts and carry on the family business, and other times they plow new ground.
With both her parents involved in musical theater professionally, you could say Francesca was destined to go into the arts, and specifically music. It was more likely in her case because of the very musical environment in which she was raised, not to mention being thrown into the deep end of her parent’s gene pool! But not every child’s course is as easy to recognize.
With our daughter, obviously she inherited gifts and talent in music and the performing arts. Our job was to take those gifts and give them shape; give her opportunities to be trained in those areas; and expose her to teachers, classes, and mentors who would take her where God called her to go. We couldn’t assume she was going to follow exactly in our footsteps. And we had to make sure she knew her gifts and talents weren’t what defined her. We were going to love her no matter what life she chose. We had to seek God for His wisdom in her unique expression of her gifts in the performing arts. Our part was to mine those gifts and talents, and her part was to be diligent with what God entrusted to her. Success doesn’t happen by accident. It takes years of hard work.
I believe if we seek Him, God is faithful to put a dream in parents’ hearts for their children. He gives us a sense as they grow. Sometimes it’s just an inkling that turns into a knowing, and over time becomes a certainty. He entrusts the dream to us and gives us the responsibility to dig it out and give it shape. Kids don’t become successful adults by accident.
Success and Environment
In Malcolm Gladwell’s Outliers, he writes: People don’t rise from nothing. We do owe something to parentage and patronage. The people who stand before kings may look like they did it all by themselves. But in fact they are invariably the beneficiaries of hidden advantages and extraordinary opportunities and cultural legacies that allow them to learn and work hard and make sense of the world in ways others cannot. It makes a difference where and when we grew up. The culture we belong to and the legacies passed down by our forebears shape the patterns of our achievement in ways we cannot begin to imagine. It’s not enough to ask what successful people are like, in other words. It is only by asking where they are from that we can unravel the logic behind who succeeds and who doesn’t.4
The first place your child is from is you. You will have the biggest impact on his future. How you live, how you love, how you handle money, what you do in your free time, and the standard of integrity and honesty you set in your life—all these things and many more will shape your child into the adult he will become. You alone can give him the “hidden advantages and extraordinary opportunities,” and as you seek the Lord, He’ll show them to you.
How many families do you know whose adult children can’t seem to commit to their own future? And parents who don’t have a clue as to how to guide them? There is a culture of drift all around us—adults with no goals or dreams who are living out their lives in mediocre jobs, having little impact on society. If parents abdicate their responsibility and give it over to the school system or the church, they contribute to the drift. We aren’t supposed to be going nowhere. Destiny connotes a destination. But God won’t do it for you. You have to do it in partnership with God.
Who you are is going to shape who your child becomes. If education is important to you, you will raise your child expecting him to go to college and get good grades, barring any serious learning disabilities. If learning to manage money is important in your family then you will teach your child about budgeting at an early age and require him to earn the money to buy the things he wants and get a job when he is old enough. If parents
are extravagant in their spending their kids will be too! If sports are important in your family, you will set an example by making exercise a priority and being available to coach your child and take him to games and sporting events. If the arts are your passion, you will expose him to great music, museums, ballet, and theatrical productions. If you believe there is greatness in your child, you will find it and find ways to mine it!
It’s All in the Name
When Franny was a preteen, I became curious about what her name meant. I knew that Battistelli meant “to hit the stars” and I wondered what the name Francesca meant. So I looked it up at the bookstore in one of those baby name books. I found out the name Francesca means “free.” I was stunned! It was one more confirmation of what I was beginning to sense about her future, and I excitedly told her and Mike what I’d found. Her name
meant “free to hit the stars.” Talk about a prophetic picture! I was able to encourage her and remind her during down times just what her name meant and the destiny it conveyed.
Personality—Who Is She Like?
One thing that fascinated me when my daughter was young was the difference in our personalities. I’m pretty steady emotionally, calm, cool, and very practical and unsentimental. I love home, family, and the homemaking arts such as cooking, gardening, and so on. My husband is more of a type-A personality. He is a leader, strong-willed, and independent with a strong work ethic and a dedication to personal integrity. Our daughter isn’t exactly like either of us. She is sensitive, emotional, analytical, introverted, and a bit of a perfectionist. She has pieces of both of us but not a full distillation of either mom or dad.
God gave her a unique personality and our job was to parent who she was, not who we may have wanted her to be. Also, we had to be mindful not to superimpose our unfulfilled dreams onto her life. Remember, we had achieved a measure of success in the music and musical theater worlds. It would have been easy to assume she would follow in our footsteps and go into the theater in order to fill up some leftover longing or regret in us. Actually, in our case, knowing what we knew about that world, we purposely tried to steer her away from “the business” early on and focus her on dance. However, by the time she was eleven, she was already involved in professional theater here in Orlando, Florida. She even got mom to be in several shows with her! Often, the acorn doesn’t fall far from the tree!
If your children are young, then now is the time to really be seeking God about their future. It’s never too early to begin, in fact, the earlier the better! You probably already have an idea what their gifts and talents are. Ask God to give you a glimpse into their future. He will lead you step by step as you seek His wisdom in raising your unique child.
There is so much more in our children than we realize, and they are capable of far more than we give them credit for. There are precious metals and rare jewels deep inside your child. You will have to dig them out, but it will be well worth it when you launch them out into life knowing you did everything you could to equip them for success. And by success I mean doing what God has called them to do with passion and purpose and with Christ at the center. Perhaps God will call them into fulltime ministry as a missionary. Maybe He’ll give them a platform in Christian music to influence other young people to pursue God with passion and purity. Maybe your child is called to be a political leader, teacher, business owner, or inventor of something that will change the world. Maybe your daughter wants more than anything to grow up and be a mom, a noble and worthy goal. Whatever God shows you, believe it and get moving. Nothing is more exciting than partnering with God!
Questions to Ask Yourself
Has God given you a dream deep inside for your child?
What gifts and talents is your child expressing?What has God put in your heart about your child’s future?
What personality traits have you observed?
What practical steps can you take to train your child, both in godly principles and in helping them achieve his dreams?
Are you being proactive about your child’s future or are you letting him drift?
Do you believe that greatness resides in your child?
Prayer
Lord, I come humbly before You with wonder and amazement at the precious gift of my child that You have entrusted
to me. The course of this life is in Your hands, and I ask for wisdom and discernment in raising him. Help me to
uncover all the gifts, talents, and callings You have placed deep inside him. I know my child is fearfully and wonderfully
made, and I am excited to discover all You created him to be. Help me to be the parent he needs me to be and to have the ability to equip him to fulfill every dream in Your heart for him. Give me eyes to see and ears to hear as I raise him. Help me to be an example of integrity, humility, honesty, and diligence in all that I do. I pray this in Jesus’s name!

Firethorn, Discarded Heroes #4, by Ronie Kendig

2012-01-24T10:02:00.000-05:00

Today's Wild Card author is:

Ronie Kendig

and the book:

Firethorn, Discarded Heroes #4

Barbour Books; Discarded Heroes edition (2012)

***Special thanks to Ronie Kendig for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

An Army brat, Ronie Kendig grew up in the classic military family, with her father often TDY and her mother holding down the proverbial fort. Their family moved often, which left Ronie attending six schools by the time she’d entered fourth grade. Her only respite and “friends” during this time were the characters she created.

It was no surprise when she married a military veteran—her real-life hero—in June 1990. Married more than twenty years, Ronie and her husband, Brian, homeschool their four children, the first of whom graduated in 2011. Despite the craziness of life, Ronie finds balance and peace with her faith, family and their three dogs in Dallas, TX.

Ronie has a deep love and passion for people, especially hurting people, which is why she pursued and obtained a B.S. in Psychology from Liberty University. Ronie is an active member of the American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW) and has volunteered extensively, serving in a variety of capacities from coordinator of a national contest to appointment assistant at the national annual conference.

Since launching onto the publishing scene in 2010, Ronie and her books have been gained critical acclaim and national attention, including:

Finalist in Christian Retailing’s 2011 Readers’ Choice Awards (Nightshade)
RWA’s Faith, Hope, & Love’s 2011 Inspirational Readers’ Choice Awards in Romantic Suspense (Nightshade)
Named one of the Top 25 Christian Fiction Suspense, Mystery, and Thriller Writers by FamilyFiction (Sept 2011)
2011 FamilyFiction Readers’ Choice Awards – 3^rd place as New Favorite Author, 8^th place with Nightshade for Novel of the Year.
INSPY Award Shortlist final in Mystery/Thriller (Dead Reckoning)
The Christian Manifesto’s 2010 Lime Award for Excellence in Christian Fiction (Nightshade)

Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Blown and dismantled, Nightshade is ready to repay the favor.

Former Marine and current Nightshade team member Griffin "Legend" Riddell is comfortable. So comfortable he never sees the set up that lands him in a maximum security prison, charged with murder. How can he prove his innocence behind bars?

Covert operative Kazi Faron is tasked with reassembling Nightshade—the black ops team someone dissected. Breaking Griffin out of a federal penitentiary amid explosive confusion may turn out to be her last assignment. What will it take to convince the fugitive that whoever set him up has also dissected the Nightshade team? As Kazi and Griffin race to rescue the others and discover the traitor,
love begins to awaken in their hearts.

Can a covert operative and the felon she's freed overcome their mutual distrust long enough to save Nightshade? Will anything prepare them for who—or what is coming?

Product Details:

List Price: $12.99

Paperback: 352 pages
Publisher: Barbour Books; Discarded Heroes edition (2012)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1602607850
ISBN-13: 978-1602607859

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

To all American military heroes

At home and abroad,

Those who have gone before

and those serving today—

THANK YOU!

Because of you, we are FREE!

RECON CREED

Realizing it is my choice and my choice alone to be a Reconnaissance Marine, I accept all challenges involved with this profession. Forever shall I strive to maintain the tremendous reputation of those who went before me.
Exceeding beyond the limitations set down by others shall be my goal. Sacrificing personal comforts and dedicating myself to the completion of the reconnaissance mission shall be my life. Physical fitness, mental attitude, and high ethics—The title of Recon Marine is my honor.
Conquering all obstacles, both large and small, I shall never quit. To quit, to surrender, to give up is to fail. To be a Recon Marine is to surpass failure; To overcome, to adapt and to do whatever it takes to complete the mission.
On the battlefield, as in all areas of life, I shall stand tall above the competition. Through professional pride, integrity, and teamwork, I shall be the example for all Marines to emulate.
Never shall I forget the principles I accepted to become a Recon Marine. Honor, Perseverance, Spirit, and Heart.
A Recon Marine can speak without saying a word and achieve what others can only imagine.

Swift, Silent, Deadly

Chapter 1

The Shack
      “It’s sad, really.” Marshall “The Kid” Vaughn trudged away from the thumping rotors of the helo that had deposited them back at the Shack, his pack almost dragging the ground. “Ya don’t realize how much a person adds until he’s gone.”
      “Legend’s not gone.” Max “Frogman” Jacobs hoisted his rucksack into a better group, his mind locked on Sydney and their two sons waiting for him at home. Poor woman had to be going out of her mind with two of his Mini-Me’s running around.
      “Yeah.” John “Squirt” Dighton hit the light breaker, then waited for the six-man team to clear the door. “He’s just temporarily detained.”
      Lights sizzled and popped to life. Groaning bounced off the grimy windows as he hauled the door closed, locked it, then started toward the showers.
      The Kid grunted. “Forty-years-to-life temporary.”
      In the locker room, a depressive gloom hung over the team. They’d been on countless missions, hit just about every terrain and environment imaginable, but none had taken the toll the last couple had. And there was one reason—they were down a man. Griffin “Legend” Riddell. If Max could write the playbook, they wouldn’t do another mission without the guy. But with the man in federal prison for murdering a congressman, it’d be a long wait.
      It was quiet. Too quiet. Max looked around the Spartan room. Walls of lockers, most unused. A few benches. A giant once-white bin for dirty duds. And the team. Six men, now. All very skilled. Good men. Even the one missing. Every man here knew Legend had been set up—he didn’t murder that congressman. But nobody could prove it. The evidence was damning. Justice—injustice was more like it—came swiftly. Lambert, ever the puppeteer, couldn’t pull the right strings to get Legend off.
      “I’m heading up to visit him tomorrow. Anyone game?” Colton “Cowboy” Neeley slumped on a bench and ran a hand over his short, dark hair. His blue eyes probed the group.
      “Nah, man. I’ve got a date,” the Kid said.
      Squirt beaned him with a towel. “What girl would go out with you, mate?”
      The Kid snapped the terry cloth back at the former Navy SEAL. “Your sister.”
      Squirt froze. His jaw went slack. Then his eyes darkened.
      Laughing, Canyon “Midas” Metcalfe rose to his feet from the corner. “You just proved his point by thinking your sister would actually go out with him.”
      Squirt swallowed, his face drained of color. “I introduced them at a New Year’s party.”
      Midas laughed harder. “Your mistake, mate.”
      Shuffling closer, Squirt pointed a finger at the Kid. “I swear, you touch her, I’ll shove a fist full of witchety grubs down your gullet.”
      “Give me credit, dude.” The Kid raised his hands. “I’m a gentleman.”
      Max grunted. “Right.” As he strode around the lockers to the shower well, he heard more threats and much more laughter from the Kid. Max shook his head. Would the Kid ever grow up, learn when to leave things alone?
      As he tossed his oily, grimy duds on the bench, Max paused, thinking maybe he should send his report to Lambert now so he wouldn’t have to mess with it tomorrow. The mission had been simple enough, a snatch-n-grab of an Iranian doctor. It’d been nice and clean, in and out. The report wouldn’t take long. Then he could shower, bug out, and know he had the whole weekend with Syd and the boys.
      Max jogged up the iron stairs, which creaked and groaned beneath his weight. Down the hall to the right. He punched in the code and entered the secure hub, the door hissing shut behind him. The most high-tech part of this dump-of-a-warehouse.
      Shouts drew his attention to the blinds. He jabbed two fingers between a couple and spread them to peeked down into the main area. Squirt and the Kid raced into the bay and back the way they came. Squirt looked ready to kill. The Kid’s face revealed his fear. Max shook his head again. Man, he wanted Griffin back. The guy seemed to bring balance to the team. Badly needed balance.
      Max powered up the computer. Hand propped on the warped wood, he waited for the system to boot.
      More shouts. Loud thuds.
      He pinched the bridge of his nose. Would they never—?
      Tat-a-tat! Tat-tat-a-tat!
      Instinct drove Max to his knee at the sound of gunfire. He scrambled to the window. Through the slanted blinds, he peered down into the slab of cement. His brain wouldn’t assemble what he saw. Gunmen. A dozen or more. Rushing into the Shack from the parking bay. Moving swiftly, as if. . .
      They know the layout.
      Max darted to the door and jerked it open. He sprinted down the hall toward the stairs. As his boot hit steel, he froze. A shadow emerged. Floated into the hall.
      Too late.
      Max jerked back. Pressed his spine against the wall.
      By the showers, the Kid looked up. Max signaled to him. Then made his best and loudest Nightshade whistle, hoping it would penetrate the building, give the men warning to take cover.
      The Kid threw himself back into the locker room.
      Men swarmed the corner. One looked to his left, one right. His weapon slowly rose as he traced the stairs with his M16.
      Max leapt backward into the darkness and into office. He closed the door. As the lock clicked, darkness dropped like an anchor over the entire building. Behind him, a glow screamed his location. The monitor!
      Max spun. Lunged across the desk. Stabbed the power button. And paused with his hand still near the monitor. If someone was coming after them. . .accessing this computer. . .
      On his knees, Max yanked the cords free. With the box, he moved to the window and reassessed the parking bay. Another van with a half-dozen men with AK-47s. They streamed into the warehouse.
      Max’s gut wound into a dozen knots. They were screwed.
      Think! Hand on the door, he considered going back downstairs. But that would get him captured. Killed. Yet he’d rather be with his guys than running like a chicken.
      No, not running. Considering options, gaining the advantage. Planning. The invasion force was armed to the teeth. They knew who they were coming after. They’d brought weapons. And those guys moved with precision. Swift, deadly precision.
      Though Nightshade had a stellar ops record, perhaps they had finally met their match. Still. . .two to one? Nightshade had faced worse.
      A large black Suburban screeched to a halt in the middle of the parking bay. Two men emerged, both wearing trench coats.
      Max cursed his luck to be up here, away from his gear, his weapons. Up here, without firepower. Thus, powerless.
      Okay, enough. He was going down there. He eased the door open and slid across the hall. Bathed in darkness, he crouched at edge of the landing, using the wall for cover. A dozen men so far, rushing here and there. Quick, quiet chatter between the men.
      A smirk slid into Max’s face. His team had taken cover and these goons couldn’t find them. If he could just get a weapon. . .
      “Can’t find them.”
      “They’re here. I saw them go in,” the man nearest the SUV shouted. “Find them! Lights!”
      Light rushed through the building as headlamps from the vehicles stabbed the dusty, damp building. Max yanked back, out of sight. He needed to get down there, defend his men. His boot hit the landing.
      Shouts erupted. A shot bounced off the steel rafters, taunting as it echoed through the Shack. Stilled, Max waited. More shouts. The sound of a scuffle. The half-dozen men waiting by the SUV lifted their weapons to the ready.
      The locker room door swung open. A man walked backward, his AK-47 aimed at a large form filling the doorway. Cowboy. Arms raised, dressed only in his jeans, he stalked forward. Someone shoved him from behind, which barely moved the big lug.
      Spine pressed against the wood, Max peered down into the bay.
      “You move one wrong muscle,” the one in front of Cowboy growled, “and so help me God, I’ll kill you.”
      “No you won’t.” Cowboy lowered his hands. “If you wanted me dead, I wouldn’t be out here.”
      Ride ’em, Cowboy.
      From the side entrance to the showers, three men dragged a shouting, cursing Kid into the bay. Max smirked that it took three tangos to wrangle the Kid.
      Hand clenched, Max’s mind went into overdrive. What could he do? God. . .I need. . .something. What could he pray for? Intercepting the team was impossible. Twelve, fifteen armed tangos against one unarmed man?
      He latched on to the hope that they’d only found Cowboy and the Kid. No Midas, Squirt, or Aladdin. Good. Maybe they could regroup and—
      A man flew through the bay door from the showers and landed with a thud a yard from the others. Midas flipped over, scissored his legs, and swept the thug off his feet. The Kid seized the confusion to attack the men guarding him. And impressively. With a hard right, he dropped the first and used that weapon to disable the second.
      Cowboy took a step back and rammed his elbow into the gut of the nearest guard. The gunman bent forward—straight into Cowboy’s meaty fist. The big guy pivoted, slapped the interior of the gunman’s wrist, effectively seizing the weapon and flipping the muzzle around. He fired at the guy.
      Crack!
      In the split second it took for Max to realize the sonic boom that rent the air wasn’t the report of Cowboy’s .45 MEU but of a rifle, Max saw the man in the black trench coat drop to the ground. A circle spread out like a dark halo.
      “Sniper!” someone shouted.
      The dead guy had fallen backward. Most likely shot from the front. Which meant. . . Max’s gaze rose to the rafters. With no light, it’d be the perfect hiding spot. But. . .who? Squirt? Aladdin?
      Crack!
      The man guarding Colton stumbled forward, then went to his knees before hitting the cement.
      The man in the black trench coat nearest the SUV dropped. A pool of blood spilled out.
      “There!” One guard swung and fired his fully automatic at the ceiling. Four others followed suit, firing at the bank of grimy windows on the southeast wall of the building.
      Max followed their direction and watched. Waited, his breath caught at the back of his throat. Cracks and shattering glass blended with the staccato punches of the guns to create a wild cacophony of noise. Max tuned it out, praying whoever—Aladdin or Squirt—wouldn’t be hit.
      But then he saw it. A shift of a shadow. Like someone rolling. . .
      The gunfire petered out as a body plummeted the eight feet to the ground.
      The thud seemed to have supernatural powers as it pounded Max’s chest and pushed him back. Away from the window but not far enough that he lost line of sight.
      Silence dropped on the Shack.
      “Where’s Max Jacobs?”
      As the question streaked through the warehouse, Max registered a red glow in the far corner. Even as he noticed it, he heard a beep. Another. His gaze darted to the source of the noise. Two men were walking the perimeter, their M16s dangling as they raised their arms and pressed something against the supports. Arms lowered and the men stepped back revealing gray bricks with wires.
      Explosives.
      Gotta stop this. Do something. His gaze collided with Cowboy’s. The big lug gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.
      Max’s nostrils flared as he wrestled with what to do.
      “Where’s Dighton?”
      How do they know our names?
      “Dead,” someone answered.
      Pulled back into the shadows, Max clenched his eyes and bit down on his tongue. Dighton was dead. What about Aladdin—had he survived the fall?
      Sirens wailed in the distance.
      “Load ’em up.”
      “What about Jacobs?”
      “Outta time.” The leader left as the gunmen dragged the team out of the building.
      Stealthily, Max held on to the box and sprinted the length of the hall to the side of the Shack. In the conference room, he plunged toward the window. Craned his neck to peek out. Three vehicles—twin white vans and a black town car.
      The guys were loaded into the van and one into the car.
      The leader shifted, held something out, then it wavered.
      Detonator.
      Max spun around, searching for an out. Doors. Only one way down—the stairs. But they led to the bay, which would be engulfed.
      Windows. Overlooked the dock. The canal. It was January. The water would be brutal cold. His split-second assessment told him no matter what route he took, it’d be deadly. Despite his training, if he didn’t find shelter out of the water once he broke surface, he’d die an ice cube. If he stayed, he’d die a fireball.
      Good thing SEALs are insulated against cold water.
      Max vaulted toward the window, hurtling the computer through the window. The glass shattered as a violent force blasted through the air. It lifted him. Up. . .up. . . Flipped him. Searing pain sliced through his arm. Heat stroked his back and legs. Fire chased him out of the building. Into the night.
      Boom!
      Another wave slammed into him. Threw him backward. Toward the water.
      Something punched his gut. Knocked the breath from his lungs.
      Bright white lit the night. Blinded him. Then—almost instantaneously—black. Pure black. And he was falling. . .down. . .down. . .

Ro n i e K e n d i g

Firethorn

Discarded Heroes # 4

OTHER BOOKS BY RONIE KENDIG

Nightshade (Discarded Heroes #1)

Digitalis (Discarded Heroes #2)

Wolfsbane (Discarded Heroes #3)

© 2011 by Ronie Kendig

ISBN 978-1-60260-0785-9
Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Publishing House. All rights reserved.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the publisher.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.

For more information about Ronie Kendig, please access the author’s Web site at the following Internet address: www.roniekendig.com

Published by Barbour Publishing, Inc., P.O. Box 719, Uhrichsville, OH 44683,

www.barbourbooks.com

Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encouragement to the masses.

Printed in the United States of America.

My Thoughts:

This fast-paced action-packed novel (with a side of romance) is guaranteed to keep you on the edge of your seat and flipping the pages as you get lost in the suspense! I will warn you - don't even think about starting this book before bedtime, because you will certainly be losing lots of sleep since you won't be unable to put it aside!

I have never read any of Ronie Kending's books before, so I'm starting in a well established series. With that said, I didn't have any problems starting with this book as it is well done enough to be a stand-alone. However, with that said, I know I've missed a lot with 3 books before, and after enjoying this one the way I did, I'm going to make sure to add the rest of the series to my must read list! Ronie has pushed herself onto my favorite authors list with just this one book!

If you enjoy Jeff Struecker, Robin Caroll, military fiction or just a great suspense novel, you will certainly enjoy "Firethorn". This one comes highly recommended!

Love Blooms in Winter by Lori Copeland

2012-01-19T02:50:00.002-05:00

Today's Wild Card author is:

Lori Copeland

and the book:

Love Blooms in Winter (The Dakota Diaries)

Harvest House Publishers (January 1, 2012)

***Special thanks to Karri | Marketing Assistant |Harvest House Publishers for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Lori Copeland is the author of more than 90 titles, both historical and contemporary fiction. With more than 3 million copies of her books in print, she has developed a loyal following among her rapidly growing fans in the inspirational market. She has been honored with the Romantic Times Reviewer's Choice Award, The Holt Medallion, and Walden Books' Best Seller award. In 2000, Lori was inducted into the Missouri Writers Hall of Fame. She lives in the beautiful Ozarks with her husband, Lance, and their three children and five grandchildren.

Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

This new romance from bestselling author Lori Copeland portrays God’s miraculous provision when none seems possible. An engagement, a runaway train, and a town of quirky, loveable people make for more adventure than Tom Curtis is expecting. But it is amazing what can bloom in winter with God in charge.

1892—Mae Wilkey’s sweet next-door neighbor, Pauline, is suffering from old age and dementia and desperately needs family to come help her. But Pauline can’t recall having kin remaining. Mae searches through her desk and finds a name—Tom Curtis, who may just be the answer to their prayers.

Tom can’t remember an old aunt named Pauline, but if she thinks he’s a long-lost nephew, he very well may be. After two desperate letters from Mae, he decides to pay a visit. An engagement, a runaway train, and a town of quirky, loveable people make for more of an adventure than Tom is expecting. But it is amazing what can bloom in winter when God is in charge of things.

Product Details:

List Price: $13.99
Paperback: 304 pages
Publisher: Harvest House Publishers (January 1, 2012)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0736930191
ISBN-13: 978-0736930192

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Dwadlo, North Dakota, 1892

The winter of ’92 is gonna go down as one of the worst Dwadlo’s ever seen,” Hal Murphy grumbled as he dumped the sack of flour he got for his wife on the store counter. “Mark my words.” He turned toward Mae Wilkey, the petite postmistress, who was stuffing mail in wooden slots.

“Spring can’t come soon enough for me.” She stepped back, straightening the row of letters and flyers. She didn’t have to record Hal’s prediction; it was the same every year. “I’d rather plant flowers than shovel snow any day of the week.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Hal nodded to the store owner, Dale Smith, who stood five foot seven inches with a rounded belly and salt-and-pepper hair swept to a wide front bang. “Add a couple of those dill pickles, will you?” Hal watched as Dale went over to the barrel and fished around inside, coming up with two fat pickles.

“That’ll fix me up.” Hal turned his attention back to the mail cage, his eyes fixed on the lovely sight. “Can’t understand why you’re still single, Mae. You’re as pretty as a raindrop on a lily pad.” He sniffed the air. “And you smell as good.”

Smiling, Mae moved from the letter boxes to the cash box. Icy weather may have delayed the train this morning, but she still had to count money and record the day’s inventory. “Now, Hal, you know I’d marry you in a wink if you weren’t already taken.” Hal and Clara had been married forty-two years, but Mae’s usual comeback never failed to put a sparkle in the farmer’s eye. Truth be, she put a smile on every man’s face, but she wasn’t often aware of the flattering looks she received. Her heart belonged to Jake Mallory, Dwadlo’s up-and-coming attorney.

Hal nodded. “I know. All the good ones are taken, aren’t they?”

She nodded. “Every single one. Especially in Dwadlo.”

The little prairie town was formed when the Chicago & North Western Railroad came through five years ago. Where abundant grass, wild flowers, and waterfalls had once flourished, hundreds of miles of steel rail crisscrossed the land, making way for big, black steam engines that hauled folks and supplies. Before the railroad came through, only three homesteads had dotted the rugged Dakota Territory: Mae’s family’s, Hal and Clara’s, and Pauline Wilson’s.

But in ’87 life changed, and formerly platted sites became bustling towns. Pine Grove and Branch Springs followed, and Dwadlo suddenly thrived with immigrants, opportunists, and adventure-seeking folks staking claims out West. A new world opened when the Dakota Boom started.

Hal’s gaze focused on Mae’s left hand. “Jake still hasn’t popped the question?”

Mae sighed. Hal was a pleasant sort, but she really wished the townspeople would occupy their thoughts with something other than her and Jake’s pending engagement. True, they had been courting for six years and Jake still hadn’t proposed, but she was confident he would. He’d said so, and he was a man of his word—though every holiday, when a ring would have been an appropriate gift, that special token of his intentions failed to materialize. Mae had more lockets than any one woman could wear, but Jake apparently thought that she could always use another one. What she could really use was his hand in marriage. The bloom was swiftly fading from her youth, and it would be nice if her younger brother, Jeremy, had a man’s presence in his life.

“Be patient, Hal. He’s busy trying to establish a business.”

“Good lands. How long does it take a man to open a law office?”

“Apparently six years and counting.” She didn’t like the uncertainty but she understood it, even if the town’s population didn’t. She had a good life, what with work, church, and the occasional social. Jake accompanied her to all public events, came over two or three times a week, and never failed to extend a hand when she needed something. It was almost as though they were already married.

“The man’s a fool,” Hal declared. “He’d better slap a ring on that finger before someone else comes along and does it for him.”

“Not likely in Dwadlo,” Mae mused. The town itself was made up of less than a hundred residents, but other folks lived in the surrounding areas and did their banking and shopping here. Main Street consisted of the General Store, Smith’s Grain and Feed, the livery, the mortuary, the town hall and jail (which was almost always empty), Doc Swede’s office, Rosie’s Café, and an empty building that had once housed the saloon. Mae hadn’t spotted a sign on any business yet advertising “Husbands,” but she was certain her patience would eventually win out.

With a final smile Hal moved off to pay for his goods. Mae hummed a little as she put the money box in the safe. Looking out the window, she noticed a stiff November wind snapping the red canvas awning that sheltered the store’s porch. Across the square, a large gazebo absorbed the battering wind. The usually active gathering place was now empty under a gray sky. On summer nights music played, and the smell of popcorn and roasted peanuts filled the air. Today the structure looked as though it were bracing for another winter storm. Sighing, Mae realized she already longed for green grass, blooming flowers, and warm breezes.

After Hal left Mae finished up the last of the chores and then reached for her warm wool cape. She usually enjoyed the short walk home from work, but today she was tired—and her feet hurt because of the new boots she’d purchased from the Montgomery Ward catalog. On the page they had looked comfortable with their high tops and polished leather, but on her feet they felt like a vise.

Slipping the cape’s hood over her hair, she said goodbye to Dale and then paused when her hand touched the doorknob. “Oh, dear. I really do need to check on Pauline again.”

“How’s she doing?” The store owner paused and leaned on his broom. “I noticed she hasn’t been in church recently.”

Dale always reminded Mae of an owl perching on a tree limb, his big, dark blue eyes swiveling here and there. He might not talk a body’s leg off, but he kept up on town issues. She admired the quiet little man for what he did for the community and respected the way he preached to the congregation on Sundays.

How was Pauline doing? Mae worried the question over in her mind. Pauline lived alone, and she shouldn’t. The elderly woman was Mae’s neighbor, and she checked on her daily, but Pauline was steadily losing ground.

“She’s getting more and more fragile, I’m afraid. Dale, have you ever heard Pauline speak of kin?”

The small man didn’t take even a moment to ponder the question. “Never heard her mention a single word about family of any kind.”

“Hmm…me neither. But surely she must have some.” Someone who should be here, in Dwadlo, looking after the frail soul. Mae didn’t resent the extra work, but the post office and her brother kept her busy, and she really didn’t have the right to make important decisions regarding the elderly woman’s rapidly failing health.

Striding back to the bread rack, she picked up a fresh loaf. Dale had private rooms at the back of the store where he made his home, and he was often up before dawn baking bread, pies, and cakes for the community. Most folks in town baked their own goods, but there were a few, widowers and such, who depended on Dale’s culinary skills. By this hour of the day the goods were usually gone, but a few remained. Placing a cherry pie in her basket as well, she called, “Add these things to my account, please, Dale. And pray for Pauline too.”

Nodding, he continued sweeping, methodically running the stiff broomcorn bristles across the warped wood floor.

The numbing wind hit Mae full force when she stepped off the porch. Her hood flew off her head and an icy gust of air snatched away her breath. Putting down her basket, she retied the hood before setting off for the brief walk home. Dwadlo was laid out in a rather strange pattern, a point everyone agreed on. Businesses and homes were built close together, partly as shelter from the howling prairie winds and partly because there wasn’t much forethought given to town planning. Residents’ homes sat not a hundred feet from the store. The whole community encompassed less than five acres.

Halfway to her house, snowflakes began swirling in the air. Huddling deeper into her wrap, Mae concentrated on the path as the flakes grew bigger.

She quickly covered the short distance to Pauline’s. The dwelling was little more than a front room, tiny kitchen, and bedroom, but she was a small woman. Pauline pinned her yellow-white hair in a tight knot at the base of her skull, and she didn’t have a tooth in her head. She chewed snuff, which she freely admitted was an awful habit, but Mae had never heard her speak of giving it up.

Her faded blue eyes were as round as buttons, and no matter what kind of day she was having, it was always a new one to her, filled with wonders. Her mind wasn’t what it used to be. She had good and bad days, but mostly days when her moods changed as swift as summer lightning. She could be talking about tomatoes in the garden patch when suddenly she would be discussing how to spin wool.

Mae noted a soft wisp of smoke curling up from the chimney and smiled. Pauline had remembered to feed the fire this afternoon, so this was a good day.

Unlatching the gate, she followed the path to the front porch. In summertime the white railings hung heavy with red roses, and the scent of honeysuckle filled the air. This afternoon the wind howled across the barren flower beds Pauline carefully nurtured during warmer weather. Often she planted okra where petunias should be, but she enjoyed puttering in the soil and the earth loved her. She brought fresh tomatoes, corn, and beans to the store during spring and summer, and pumpkins and squash lined the railings in the fall.

In earlier days Pauline’s quilts were known throughout the area. She and her quilting group had made quite a name for themselves when Dwadlo first became a town. Four women excelled in the craft. One had lived in Pine Grove, and two others came from as far away as Branch Springs once a month to break bread together and stitch quilts. But one by one the women had died off, leaving Pauline to sew alone in her narrowing world.

Stomping her boots on the porch, Mae said under her breath, “I don’t mind winter, Lord, but could we perhaps have a little less of it?” The only answer was the wind whipping her garments. Tapping lightly on the door, she called, “Pauline?”

Mae stepped back and waited to hear the shuffle of feet. Pauline used to answer the door in less than twenty seconds. It took longer now. Mae made a fist with her gloved hand and banged a little harder. The wind howled around the cottage eaves. She closed her eyes and prayed that Jeremy had remembered to stack sufficient firewood beside the kitchen door. The boy was generally responsible, and she thanked God every day that she had him to lean on. He had been injured by forceps during birth, which left him with special needs. He was a very happy fourteen-year-old with the reasoning power of a child of nine.

A full minute passed. Mae frowned and tried the doorknob. Pauline couldn’t hear herself yell in a churn, but she might also be asleep. The door opened easily, and Mae peeked inside the small living quarters. She saw that a fire burned low in the woodstove, and Pauline’s rocking chair sat empty.

Stepping inside, she closed the door and called again. “Pauline? It’s Mae!”

The ticking of the mantle clock was the only sound that met her ears.

“Pauline?” She lowered her hood and walked through the living room. She paused in the kitchen doorway.

“Oh, Pauline!”

My Thoughts:

"Love Blooms in Winter", the first book in Lori Copeland's new Dakota Diaries series, takes place in 1892 in Dwaldo, North Dakota. It centers around a beautiful young woman, Mae Wilkey, who is as sweet as she is pretty. Mae has taken the responsibility of raising her special needs brother, taking care of her elderly neighbor, Pauline, and working as the town's postmistress. Unfortunately, she realizes that Pauline is going to need more care than she can provide and writes an assumed relative named Tom Curtis to explain the situation, asking that he come and help as soon as he possibly can. Tom doesn't remember an aunt or any relative named Pauline, but with no living relatives to ask, he decides to make the trip to Dwaldo to sort things out.

Lori Copeland has a way with creating characters that draw the reader into the story. They are spunky, witty, and dimensional people that you want to get to know. "Love Blooms in Winter" holds so many wonderful characters that makes it practically impossible to put the book down. Some of my favorites (besides the main characters) had to be Lil, Fisk and Esau.

The story was fun and fast paced. It was a story of love, faithfulness, charity, and believing that God knows what is best for us. I enjoyed the story line and the Christian message that was presented. This is a great start to a new series, and I can't wait for the next book to come out! If you haven't read any of Lori's books, this is a great place to start!

An Invitation To Read With Me

2012-01-16T15:40:00.000-05:00

Last night, I opened my Bible to read, and realized that it's been a while since I've done any reading with purpose. Lately, it's been just devotional reading because I've been reviewing devotionals and have been lax on any in-depth reading.

I have decided it's time to read through my Bible again. It's been a long time since I've read it from beginning to end. So, last night, I pulled my schedule out and started in Genesis. Since it's only mid-January, it will be easy to play catch-up. If you would like to join me in reading the Bible through from beginning to end, you can find a couple of nice schedules here:

http://www.docstoc.com/docs/31130041/Straight-Through-the-Bible-Reading-Plan

http://www.docstoc.com/docs/83905496/Bible-Reading-Guide

I am using one that was given to me years ago, and it is based on the average of 85 verses a day.

My schedule for January:

1/1 - Genesis 1-3

1/2 - Genesis 4-7

1/3 - Genesis 8-10

1/4 - Genesis 11-14

1/5 - Genesis 15-17

1/6 - Genesis 18-20

1/7 - Genesis 21-23

1/8 - Genesis 24-25

1/9 - Genesis 26-27

1/10 - Genesis 28-30

1/11 - Genesis 31-32

1/12 - Genesis 33-35

1/13 - Genesis 36-37

1/14 - Genesis 38-40

1/15 - Genesis 41-42

1/16 - Genesis 43-44

1/17 - Genesis 45-47

1/18 - Genesis 48-50

1/19 - Exodus 1-4

1/20 - Exodus 5-7

1/21 - Exodus 8-10

1/22 - Exodus 11-13

1/23 - Exodus 14-16

1/24 - Exodus 17-19

1/25 - Exodus 20-22

1/26 - Exodus 23-25

1/27 - Exodus 26-27

1/28 - Exodus 28-29

1/29 - Exodus 30-32

1/30 - Exodus 33-35

1/31 - Exodus 36-37

With Genesis being quite an easy book to read, catching up should be easy and doable by the end of the month. I will be starting with Genesis 6 tonight. Want to join me?

Faith, Family, & Finances: Strong Foundations for a Better Life by Henry Fernandez

2012-01-16T10:12:00.001-05:00

Today's Wild Card author is:

Henry Fernandez

and the book:

Faith, Family, & Finances: Strong Foundations for a Better Life

Whitaker House (March 1, 2012)

***Special thanks to Cathy Hickling of Whitaker House for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Bishop Henry Fernandez and his wife Carol are founders and senior pastors of The Faith Center Ministries, Ft. Lauderdale, an 8,000-member multi-cultural church whose mission is “reaching the world for Jesus.” An author, speaker, and entrepreneur, Bishop Fernandez is also founder of the University of Ft. Lauderdale. He hosts the television program Lifestyles of Faith which airs worldwide on the Word and TBN TV Networks, and is a frequent guest host on TBN’s Praise the Lord show. Despite being told they were medically unable to have children, God blessed Henry and Carol with their first son after 16 years of marriage and praying for a baby, then a second son, 16 months later.

Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Bishop Henry Fernandez addresses America’s economic crisis, breakdown of the family unit, and general moral malaise, consequences, he writes, of a shift away from faith in God to the pursuit of material gain and worldly pursuits. Bishop Fernandez believes it’s not too late to turn things around with God’s help and hard work. He offers biblically-based, practical solutions for restoring one’s faith in God, then building on a foundation of renewed faith, proceeds to teach readers steps for restoring family relations and rejuvenating their personal finances.

Product Details:

List Price: $14.99

Paperback: 224 pages
Publisher: Whitaker House (March 1, 2012)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1603742808
ISBN-13: 978-1603742801

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Strong Faith

I am inwardly fashioned for faith, not for fear. Fear is not my native land; faith is. I am so made that worry and anxiety are sand in the machinery of life; faith is the oil. I live better by faith and confidence than by fear, doubt, and anxiety. In anxiety and worry, my being is gasping for breath—these are not my native air. But in faith and confidence, I breathe freely—these are my native air.

—Dr. E. Stanley Jones

Chapter One

In Whom Do You Trust?

“In God We Trust.” That is a powerful declaration, isn’t it? Although we seldom notice it, that solemn and weighty phrase graces every unit of American currency, from the lowly penny to the $100 bill. It’s not merely a slogan or a nice sentiment that we intone on holidays or in times of national crisis. There is meaning and intent behind those words. “In God We Trust” is based on the conviction, held by generations of Americans since the nation’s founding, that a country and its citizens are only as strong as their faith in, and faithfulness to, almighty God.

That, of course, is God’s opinion on the matter, as well. Throughout the annals of history, He has promised to bless those nations and people who put their trust in Him, corporately and individually, and who behave in ways that honor Him and His character. By contrast, He has clearly warned that those who do not reverence and put their trust in Him can expect to suffer physically, financially, emotionally, and politically—in every way imaginable!

Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord, the people He has chosen as His own inheritance. (Psalm 33:12)

A Look to the Past

Look at America’s past and you will see that, for the majority of our history, we have been the nation to which other nations have looked for guidance, help, defense, and a model of a successful, prosperous society. There is good reason for this. For most of the past two centuries, we have been the most prosperous and successful nation on earth. Consider the following:

The lion’s share of technological advances that occurred during the twentieth century—from automobiles to electric lights to television and radio to the computer and space travel—had their start in America.
During this same time, America’s industrial machine was second to none, pumping out volumes of manufactured goods for markets all over the world.

For most of that time, America was also blessed with remarkable agricultural production, an abundance that has been used to feed not only our own sizeable and ever-growing population but also many other nations of the world.

Our educational institutions were world renowned, raising generations of young people who were trained not only with life skills to succeed in business, industry, and elsewhere, but also with the precepts of righteousness and morality that are the foundation of any successful society.

Without a doubt, the greatest asset of America’s blessedness has been its people. In America, God has brought together individuals, families, and communities from a wide variety of foreign countries, cultures, ethnicities, and races, forming a veritable “melting pot” of hardworking, moral, and God-honoring people who asked for nothing more in return than the opportunity to be an integral part of this “land of the free and home of the brave.”

Committed to a solid faith in God, to strong families, and to earnest stewardship of all that God had blessed them with, this broad range of individuals built strong communities “from sea to shining sea” so that, for generations to come, our country could declare that America was “one nation under God.”

Throughout the years, as long as Americans have trusted in God, they have maintained that same strength and unity, enabling them to achieve just about anything they set their minds and hearts to do.

The secret of my success? It is simple. It is found in the Bible: “In all thy ways acknowledge Him and He shall direct thy paths.”

—George Washington Carver

A Change of Heart

Today, however, many people are wondering what has happened to our strong, free nation that once put its trust in God. The cultural landscape around us, and the personal circumstances millions of Americans are facing, seem far different from the prosperity, security, and hope that so many of us grew up with. The list of challenges is daunting.

The nation’s job picture is bleak. As of August 2011, unemployment was 9.1 percent, with nearly fourteen million Americans out of work. How different from the nation in which previous generations raised their families and planned for the future.
Over the last thirty years, more and more Americans have gone into debt for nonessential luxury items. As of January 2010, Americans held more than 609 billion credit cards—or two cards for every American. In June 2011, U.S. consumer credit card debt reached $793 billion, with an average credit card debt per household of $15,799.¹ What a difference from the practice of thrift that previous generations of Americans have displayed.
With so many Americans in so much debt, it’s little surprise that in 2010, filings for personal bankruptcy exploded to more than 1.5 million people.²
On the housing front, where home ownership was once a carefully considered decision for previous generations, over the last several years, it has become an entitlement. Untold millions of Americans have gone into debt for homes whose mortgages far exceeded their incomes. As of July 2011, the national foreclosure rate had come down significantly since the financial crisis, down to 1 in every 111 homes. In my own state of Florida, however, the rate was even worse, with 14 percent of all homes actively in foreclosure.³
As the economy has faltered and families have lost their homes, homelessness has become a national epidemic. According to a 2007 study by the National Law Center on Homelessness and Poverty, approximately 3.5 million individuals in America are now homeless—1.35 million of them children.⁴
Just as the economy in crisis has impacted individuals, families, and communities, it has also devastated businesses and financial institutions. Long-established, respected banks, investment companies, and lending institutions—many considered “too big to fail”—have collapsed, while others survived only through the direct intervention of a government that is being increasingly stressed in its ability to provide the answers.

Family and Morality: A Changing Landscape

Destroy the family, and you destroy the country.

—Vladimir Ilyich Lenin

The essential building block of any society is the family, and American society is no exception. From its beginning, strong families living morally upright lives have been an important ingredient to a strong America. We may snicker or roll our eyes at the straight-laced values from thirty, forty, or fifty years ago, but the truth is that life certainly seemed simpler and more wholesome back then.

Families, whatever the faults and foibles of their members, were stronger and more stable. Marriage was considered to be a scared institution. There were stricter standards that governed relationships between the sexes, children were more respectful of their elders, and the values that defined behavior in society tended to keep people on the straight and narrow.

That seems to be far from the case today:

In many sectors of our society, marriage has become an option rather than a sacred trust. A study by the National Marriage Project found that cohabitation—couples living together outside the bond of marriage—has become so accepted in our society that an increasing number of Americans view it as a perfectly functional alternative to marriage. Their study quoted U.S. Census figures, which claimed that in 1997, there were more than four million unmarried couples sharing a household, up from less than a half million in 1960.⁵ A study conducted by the Institute for Social Research at the University of Michigan found that nearly two in five children will spend at least some time living with a parent and an unmarried partner.⁶
With such a casual approach to lifelong relationships, it is no wonder that the institution of marriage seems to be in absolute crisis throughout America. A recent study by the Barna Group found that one out of three Americans who has been married has also been divorced. As George Barna noted in the study, “There no longer seems to be much of a stigma attached to divorce; it is now seen as an unavoidable rite of passage.”⁷
Along with a drastic increase in divorce has come a wholesale redefinition of what marriage means in America. Several states have ruled that marriage can no longer be defined as only between a man and a woman. In some states, unions between two men or two women have been declared legally acceptable. One wonders if there will be any end to the redefinition of God’s most foundational building block for humanity.
Over the last thirty-five-plus years, children have become increasingly vulnerable and, in many cases, an inconvenience to people’s freewheeling lifestyles. The fact that, since 1973, over forty million precious babies have met their deaths through abortion represents a serious blight on our nation.

What Has Happened to Our Faith?

In April 2009, during a trip to Turkey, President Barack Obama held a press conference in which he said, “One of the great strengths of the United States is—although as I mentioned, we have a very large Christian population, we do not consider ourselves a Christian nation or a Jewish nation or a Muslim nation; we consider ourselves a nation of citizens who are bound by ideals and a set of values.”⁸ If that statement by the leader of our nation does not seem alarming, recall that in June 2006, Mr. Obama delivered a speech to the Call for Renewal Conference, sponsored by the progressive Christian magazine Sojourners, in which his prepared remarks stated, “Whatever we once were, we are no longer just a Christian nation; we are also a Jewish nation, a Muslim nation, a Buddhist nation, a Hindu nation, and a nation of nonbelievers.”⁹

Now, in one sense, President Obama is right. America was never intended to be a nation where individuals were compelled to become Christians. One of the great values of our nation is that everyone has the freedom to worship God after the dictates of his or her own heart.

Nevertheless, whatever the president meant by his statements, the undeniable truth of the matter is that America was established upon Christian precepts, and it seems that, as a nation and a people, we have drifted away from those foundations. As a consequence, we are now paying a price that only repentance and turning back to God will cure.

More than two hundred years ago, another president made a very different declaration. At his first inauguration, George Washington reminded his fellow citizens:

No people can be bound to acknowledge and adore the invisible hand, which conducts the Affairs of men more than the People of the United States. Every step, by which they have advanced to the character of an independent nation, seems to have been distinguished by some token of providential agency.…We ought to be no less persuaded that the propitious smiles of Heaven, can never be expected on a nation that disregards the eternal rules of order and right, which Heaven itself has ordained.

God Himself reminds us in the Bible that upright, godly Christian living will make and keep a nation and a people great. By contrast, sin, rebellion, selfishness, greed, and turning away from God and His Word will bring reproach and, ultimately, destruction.

Righteousness exalts a nation, but sin is a reproach to any people. (Proverbs 14:34)

The Foundation for Success

Now, I realize that the America of today is far different from the one President Washington addressed so many years ago. In fact, many individuals living in the United States may not even be American citizens, and they may have difficulty identifying with the values and culture that have defined our country over many generations. The fact remains, however, that the beliefs, behaviors, attitudes, and actions of a specific group of people inhabiting a place—whether it is two people or more than 250 million people—will largely determine whether those people will in live in peace, health, abundance, security, and plenty, or in constant turmoil, danger, poverty, disease, and lack.

Now it shall come to pass, if you diligently obey the voice of the Lord your God, to observe carefully all His commandments which I command you today, that the Lord your God will set you high above all nations of the earth. And all these blessings shall come upon you and overtake you, because you obey the voice of the Lord your God: Blessed shall you be in the city, and blessed shall you be in the country. Blessed shall be the fruit of your body, the produce of your ground and the increase of your herds, the increase of your cattle and the offspring of your flocks. Blessed shall be your basket and your kneading bowl. Blessed shall you be when you come in, and blessed shall you be when you go out. The Lord will cause your enemies who rise against you to be defeated before your face; they shall come out against you one way and flee before you seven ways. The Lord will command the blessing on you in your storehouses and in all to which you set your hand, and He will bless you in the land which the Lord your God is giving you. The Lord will establish you as a holy people to Himself, just as He has sworn to you, if you keep the commandments of the Lord your God and walk in His ways. Then all peoples of the earth shall see that you are called by the name of the Lord, and they shall be afraid of you. And the Lord will grant you plenty of goods, in the fruit of your body, in the increase of your livestock, and in the produce of your ground, in the land of which the Lord swore to your fathers to give you. The Lord will open to you His good treasure, the heavens, to give the rain to your land in its season, and to bless all the work of your hand. You shall lend to many nations, but you shall not borrow. And the Lord will make you the head and not the tail; you shall be above only, and not be beneath, if you heed the commandments of the Lord your God, which I command you today, and are careful to observe them. (Deuteronomy 28:1–13)

When God called the nation of Israel to be His own special people, He promised to be with them, to guide them, and to bless them with perfect health, overwhelming abundance for their every need, the favor of the people and nations around them, and with success in whatever they set their hands to do. He told them that His blessings would overtake them and that they would not be able to stop the favor of God upon their lives. All they had to do was trust Him, put Him first over everything else, and follow the directions He gave them for life.

Unfortunately, God’s people often ended up doing the exact opposite, and they paid a painful price. Their disobedience—their lack of trust in God’s mercy and goodness, and their insistence on looking to their own faulty wisdom and planning rather than to God’s perfect blueprint for their lives—led them, throughout their long history, to be in bondage to other nations. Throughout all of their ordeals, God continued to call His people back to His perfect path, where blessings and abundance awaited them.

That story may sound familiar. It is much like the situations and circumstances that we face today. We say a little prayer, hoping for God’s blessing, and then we forge ahead with our own plans and agendas rather than waiting for His perfect timing. Although we are well aware of God’s counsel, too many of us end up following the opposite course of action. Of course, gentleman that He is, God allows us to go our own way, patiently waiting for us to come to the end of ourselves, where we finally say, “Father, I was wrong; You were right. Take control.”

That is what God is waiting for: a decision by each one of us to turn from our own ways—with all the heartache and turmoil attached to them—and return to His perfect way. He promises in His Word that He will wait until we are ready to receive His mercy, when we have come to the end of ourselves and our own resources, our own ideas and strategies, so that we can rest instead rest in His care, receive His salvation, and feast at His table of plenty.

For thus says the Lord God, the Holy One of Israel: “In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and confidence shall be your strength.” But you would not,…Therefore the Lord will wait, that He may be gracious to you; and therefore He will be exalted, that He may have mercy on you. For the Lord is a God of justice; blessed are all those who wait for Him. (Isaiah 30:15, 18)

Returning to the God of Our Salvation

It certainly seems that a dramatic shift is taking place within our own nation and, indeed, throughout the world. The prosperity, abundance, plenty, and peace that have been assumed as our right and privilege for so long now appear to be drifting away. In their place has come an abundance of uncertainty, even fear, about the future.

Jobs that once seemed plentiful and secure are rare and disappearing. Financial resources that seemed so abundant a few years ago now are scarce or nonexistent. The peace, order, and beauty of many of our neighborhoods and communities are being replaced by violence, abuse, corruption, decay, crime, and chaos. Many of our homes, once sanctuaries of peace against the slings and arrows of the cold workaday world, have become disordered, abusive, and discordant. The laughter and happiness of many of our children, once secure and well-adjusted, have been replaced, in many cases, by rebellion, anger, pride, and disobedience. Many loving couples, once committed to each other “till death us do part,” have been replaced by “partners,” devoted more to self and the pursuit of pleasure than to the welfare of the other, with discord and divorce as the fruit of their unions.

Is there hope for a nation and a people who once declared unashamedly “In God We Trust” but who are now mired in sin and selfish living, and who are drifting and confused? The answer is an emphatic and unequivocal “Yes!” God has a promise for each individual—and every collective people—who will turn to Him in humility and absolute trust. Just as He told His people, Israel, He still says to you and me, “Only in returning to me and resting in me will you be saved. In quietness and confidence is your strength” (Isaiah 30:15 nlt).

To many of us, that may sound like a tall order, an impossible feat to accomplish. When everything within us is screaming, in our need and anxiety, Don’t just stand there and trust God! Do something; anything!, to choose to be still and trust God seems almost ridiculous. But believe me, God is right there to help you, to enable you to stand and wait for Him through the power of His Holy Spirit. He is not far away but near to each of us in our need.

Anything less than God will let you down.

—E. Stanley Jones

Are You That Individual?

Whatever your need today, God is waiting to meet it, out of His mercy. He is looking for individuals who will make faith and a relationship with Him a lifestyle. He’s looking for people who will be part of a worldwide community of believers who turn their families, neighborhoods, communities, and nation back to God. He is searching for those who will stand in the gap, committed to a strong and vital faith; for those who will build strong families who trust God together; and for those who will practice financial stewardship based on godly, scriptural principles.

The turnaround for a nation and a people on the brink begins with one person saying “Yes!” to God. Are you just such an individual? In the following chapters, I will show how you can find a doorway to the kind of faith that can move mountains in your life—mountains and obstacles you may have long thought would block God’s blessings forever. I will also show you God’s counsel on building strong families that can weather any storm life throws at them. Finally, I will show you God’s perfect counsel on sound finances—something all of us need in these days of uncertainty.

Be assured, God’s provision—and all His best for you—is not dependent upon the economy, the whims of the stock market, how much money you have in the bank, or if you have a job tomorrow. God’s provision for you and your family is dependent upon one thing alone: God’s faithfulness to His Word. He is the Creator of everything—all the wealth of the world is at His command—and He has promised to supply all your needs according to all the riches of His glorious and unending kingdom. (See Philippians 4:19.)

All you have to do is believe and receive.

Showing Love and Hospitality to Others By Roxanne Packham

2012-01-14T03:30:00.000-05:00

Showing Love and Hospitality to Others

By Roxanne Packham, author of Inspired Design

Before we are inspired about how to show love to others, we must first ask why?

Quite simply it is because in Romans 12:10 & 13 we are told to be devoted to one another in brotherly love, to honor one another above ourselves. We are also told to share with God’s people who are in need and to Practice Hospitality. Notice the vocabulary: practice, not perfect.

In America, as a culture and as individuals, we are suffering in part because popular media gears everything to perfection. We are bombarded with messages that if we aren’t the very best at something, we just shouldn’t bother. We compare ourselves to others, rather than knowing our worth in God’s eyes.

I suffer from insecurity and wonder if I can be creative enough to inspire. Are my tips original? Are the photographs beautiful enough? Are my suggestions too simple for some, but too fancy for another? The problem: my thoughts revolve completely around me. My creativity, my skills, my ability. This is not aboutme but about God’s purpose for me. I suddenly realize the bigger picture; I can’t do it, but I can through Christ who strengthens me.

This dance in my mind between my preciousness in His sight and the enemy’s interjections has slowed me down at times, but God showed me this dance is the very reason for us to love others; to encourage each other. Because we are human we suffer from doubt, insecurity, and rejection of one sort or another. We are God’s tool to encourage others. God uses us as His hands to love others, but make no mistake it is His power, His grace and the Holy Spirit that do the real work, not ours.

God’s path of creativity in me began with a family history of silversmithing eight generations back, a degree from USC, design school in Paris, then design school in Los Angeles. Call them spiritual or otherwise, but they were the gifts God saw fit to give to me. Who am I to argue with my Creator? They are unique and I celebrate them. What are your magnificent and unique gifts that you can use to inspire others?

I do not want the gifts received as a blessing from God to “turn into spiritual dry rot,” as Ann Voscamp suggests in her book One Thousand Gifts, as the manna did when it was hoarded in Exodus 16:20. I want to use my blessings.

Inadequacies and all, imperfections and all: I want to inspire others to practice Hospitality and to LOVE others.

Creative Ways to Encourage Others on Valentine’s Day

KIND WORDS

A handwritten note with quotes, scriptures and words of encouragement is a wonderful thing to find in the mailbox.

Leave a sticky note on your child/husband’s pillow or be bold and write your note on the bathroom mirror or car window in red lipstick saying “I love you”.

Even an email just to say “thank you for your hard work, you bless me” can make a person’s day. A cute poem, scripture or old photograph will remind them they are remembered.

If someone has lost a loved one, kind words of some way that loved one inspired you to do something better will let them know that their loved one’s legacy is living on.

AN INVITATION, TIME

Take some time out of your days to meet someone for coffee, lunch, a long walk, or even just leave a phone message with a sweet sentiment. If you have more time, take a picnic basket to their home. Set up a lunch, tea or coffee, with all your tea cups and a candle. It is a lovely surprise! Just rinse when you finish and pack back up so they don’t even have to do dishes. They will have a lovely memory of a special time.

THOUGHTFUL GESTURE

Hang flowers on the front door handle, leave a pretty tiny package in the mailbox with a beautiful red bow, or cookies delivered to the front door. Create a breakfast plate for your child that says you are special . This is especially significant if your child has struggled with something recently.

A BEAUTIFUL DINNER

Of course this takes more time, but try for a beautiful table setting complete with candles, fresh greens or flowers and a lovely menu either handwritten or printed out on your computer. (Visit Roxanne’s Pinterest account, via the Inspired Design blog, for darling printouts, including gift tags, and much more.) Don’t concentrate on the gourmet or complicated quality of the meal: remember it is about relationship and encouragement!

VALENTINE’S DINNER

A beautiful table for Valentine’s simply consists of reds, pinks and perhaps some purple. (Although it could be beautiful in all white too.) Of course, it has to have some hearts and some colorful candles. Leave kind words of some sort on each place setting. Every Valentine’s table should have its share of sparkle, of course!

Visit Roxanne Packham’s blog at www.InspiredDesignPublications.blogspot.com

for more pictures and Inspired Design ideas for Valentine’s Day.

____________________

Inspired Design

Roxanne and Hannah Packham

Inspired Design Publications

ISBN 978-0-9844563-0-7

152 pages/hardcover/$40.00

www.inspireddesignpublications.com ~ www.inspired31.org

The Gospel Story Bible: Discovering Jesus in the Old and New Testaments written by Marty Machowski and illustrated by A. E. Macha

2012-01-13T07:53:00.000-05:00

Today's Wild Card author is:

Marty Machowski

Illustrated by:

A. E. Macha

and the book:

The Gospel Story Bible:

Discovering Jesus in the Old and New Testaments

New Growth Press (December 5, 2011)

***Special thanks to Audra Jennings – The B&B Media Group – for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Marty Machowski is a Family Life Pastor at Covenant Fellowship Church, a Sovereign Grace Ministries church in Glen Mills, Pennsylvania, where he has served on the pastoral staff for twenty-three years. Marty leads Promise Kingdom, the children’s ministry of Covenant Fellowship. He is also the author of Long Story Short: Ten-Minute Devotions to Draw Your Family to God and the forthcoming Gospel Story Sunday school curriculum. He and his wife Lois and their six children reside in West Chester, Pennsylvania.

Visit the author's Facebook Page.

ABOUT THE ILLUSTRATOR:

I have never been the best at anything. This has given me the freedom to really enjoy alot of things; perfection is not on the line. So my drawing is not clean, my patchwork corners don’t really match up, and my cooking is always an adventure. I was raised by a single mom who has an exhausting amount of creative energy. My brother and I were taught how to create our own entertainment and seek adventure in the everyday.

When I was in Jr High, both my parents remarried and let’s just say things have never been boring. A foster brother, two step sisters, and a half brother were added to the mix. I have aunts and uncles who have been beyond generous and helped raise me in many ways. I have been blessed to travel overseas and even live in Prague for six months. My dad and stepmom run a special needs home in Guatemala where I have spent time and really fallen in love with the culture. My brother and his wife run a shoe company out of Guatemala. Everywhere I have been, even a dirt floor hut in the hills of Guatemala, there has been art: design and color. I believe as humans we are created in the image of The Creator, and so we all have some creative effort to put forth.

I have a BFA in Illustration because after all the studio classes one takes to finish an Art Education degree, I found what I really like to do is draw. I doodle. Alot.

Presently, I am married with two little ones, living in the Germantown section of Philadelphia. I teach art part time at a sweet little christian school, grow tomatoes and beets, and sew or draw when I get the chance.

My first illustration project is coming out in the fall, 156 illustrated Bible stories in the “Gospel Story Bible” by Marty Machowski, published by New Growth Press.

Visit the illustrator's Website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Sometimes it’s easy to forget Jesus in the midst of frantic schedules, family squabbles and conflicting priorities. For many Christians, God often becomes little more than an afterthought after days absorbed and depleted by the busyness of life. But the truth is that he is the hero of every story—including the mundane, ordinary ones we experience on a regular basis. That is why Marty Machowski beckons families to take time out from the daily grind to be transformed by the message of the Good News in his latest release, The Gospel Story Bible: Discovering Jesus in the Old and New Testaments (New Growth Press, November 2011).

Based on the ESV Bible, this uniquely illustrated Bible storybook uses 156 stories to present God’s plan of salvation in Christ from its opening narrative in Genesis to its finale in Revelation. This easy-to-read storybook written for children from preschool to high school introduces readers to many captivating people, places and events from the Bible’s Old and New Testaments. At the same time, Machowski skillfully connects the individual stories to the overall gospel narrative of how God redeemed a broken world through sending his son Jesus to save his people. Each story ends by connecting to Jesus and his gospel of grace. By sharing these Bible stories with each other, young and old will learn together the life-changing habit of recognizing the presence and workings of Christ in every moment of their day.

“The gospel is deep enough to keep the oldest and wisest parents learning and growing all their lives, yet simple enough to change the heart of the first grader who has just begun to read,” says Machowski. “That’s what makes The Gospel Story Bible ideal as a storybook for a preschooler, a devotional for a grade school student, a refresher for the adult believer or an introduction for the new one. Parents and children will learn together to read the whole Bible as one story, with one hero—Jesus Christ.”

Vibrant illustrations by A. E. Macha, child-friendly discussion questions and Scripture references accompany each story to help lead families in exploring the Bible. Parents and teachers will be delighted to discover how easily even a young child can understand the original text of a story that he or she has already come to love. A companion to the family devotional Long Story Short: Ten-Minute Devotions to Draw Your Family to God and the soon-to-be-released Gospel Story Sunday school curriculum (February 2012), The Gospel Story Bible is also a great resource for churches, Sunday school classes, home-schoolers and Christian schools who want to teach their children to apply the gospel to every situation and make Jesus the most important part of their everyday lives.

Product Details:

List Price: $29.99
Hardcover: 328 pages
Publisher: New Growth Press (December 5, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1936768127
ISBN-13: 978-1936768127

AND NOW...Some Sample Pages (click images to see them larger):

My Thoughts

This bright and colorful story bible will grab your child's attention and with only two pages per story, is extremely versatile. For the younger child, it is short enough to read at bedtime, but for the older child (4-6th grade), it can be used as their own reader. This is written in an easy to understand language, so children who attempt to read this story bible will not be bogged down, but instead, enjoy the stories.

The stories covered go from Genesis to Revelation, so all the major events are covered. This story bible includes questions with each story, making it a useful learning tool for homeschooling families or families who use studies at home. The bright colors and illustrations make it a book one can't help but look at and seems to appeal to adults as well as children.

Scripture quotes are from the English Standard Version (ESV).

EveryDayWillow Wool Dryer Balls - Favorite of 2011

2012-01-11T00:05:00.000-05:00

Going through different stores and websites, I have come across different versions of dryer balls - all claiming that they can soften your clothes and reduce dryer time. I've been skeptical at the very least. Most balls were synthetic and heavy and somewhat pricey (in my opinion), just to put in my dryer, make lots of noise and possibly ruin my clothes and still not make any difference.

When I got the chance to try EveryDayWillow Wool Dryer Balls, I jumped at the chance, because I wanted in the worst way to prove that these things were nothing more than an expensive "gimmick". I just couldn't comprehend HOW a couple balls in the dryer would reduce the drying time of my clothing and not come out all full of static. I was prepared to write a review warning every consumer to save their money.

Well, that's not going to happen. The EveryDayWillow Wool Dryer Balls have blown me away. These very simplistic items ended up being my absolute FAVORITE item that I was able to test and review for 2011!

I received three balls, very well packaged and in a box like the one shown above. They appeared to be very well constructed and in the most gorgeous jewel tones: Spearmint, Dragonberry, and Grape Jelly. They were made of 100% wool and had a somewhat firm feel to them. They came with directions and also a claim that these colored balls would not harm whites. I was skeptical that these beautiful dark jewel tones would not transfer any color to my whites.

The first load that I used the balls with came out full of static. See - I was sure these wouldn't work. I emailed Catherine at The Willow Store and she told me I had over-dried my clothes and to lessen the time next time. I knew that wouldn't work, because we have an OLD dryer (from 1970) that normally won't dry a load of clothes without adding extra time.

The next load, I backed off a bit more and still had static. BUT my clothes were dry the first time through! I continued this experiment and found we were knocking off 20 minutes or more with DRY clothes and NO STATIC!!

Then it was time to try the whites. I was so skeptical that I used with a load of white work rags to make sure there would be no transfer of color. I had no problem at all. I became braver, and did out white towels and finally our good clothes.

All this took a lot more time than I had expected to do a review for The Willow Store. My turn-around wasn't as fast as I had originally thought. When I found the balls really did cut down on my dryer time, then it was to see how much I was going to save. The first full month's electric bill was down $20. The second month was down about the same, even with the per kilowatt price increase!! That's INCREDIBLE!

The balls are holding up nicely. They did seem to get a little firmer and are getting those balls that wool sweaters get, but outside of that, I see nothing that says these guys won't last a long, long time!

A set of three balls like those that I received cost $19.95 (at the time of this review). We are normally a household of two now that the kids are in college, and with the savings we saw, these guys paid for themselves in the first month, just in the electric bill alone. Imagine the savings one could see over the next year in the electric bill alone. Plus no more smelly dryer sheets or liquid fabric softener and less wear and tear on the dryer. With a larger family, one could see an even more substantial savings!

You will need to experiment as I did to find out how much time you can cut off your drying time, as each dryer is different. You will also find different clothes, fabric weights and types of cloth will also require different lengths of time to dry. It is a bit fussy at first, but in just a few loads of laundry, you will be able to determine how long is needed and for what type of clothing. For me, the hardest thing about using these balls is sometimes finding them. I've found them in pockets, sleeves, and pant legs before, but certainly a small inconvenience next to the savings I see on my electric bill!

EveryDayWillow Wool Dryer Balls are most definitely the best product I've used and tested in 2011! Thank you to Catherine at The Willow Store for providing me a set of these to use and honestly review.

"The Accidental Bride" by Denise Hunter

2012-01-09T06:00:00.000-05:00

Today's Wild Card author is:

Denise Hunter

and the book:

The Accidental Bride

Thomas Nelson (January 3, 2012)

***Special thanks to Audra Jennings – The B&B Media Group – for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Denise lives in Indiana with her husband Kevin and their three sons. In 1996, Denise began her first book, a Christian romance novel, writing while her children napped. Two years later it was published, and she's been writing ever since. Her books often contain a strong romantic element, and her husband Kevin says he provides all her romantic material, but Denise insists a good imagination helps too!

Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Shay Brandenberger has built her entire life on the shifting sands of what others think. Constantly seeking the approval of others, she has struggled through a rocky childhood, a failed marriage and single parenthood. Now it looks like she’s losing the ranch that has been in her family for three generations, a surefire way to mark her as a failure in the eyes of the community. When Travis McCoy, the high school sweetheart who very publicly broke her heart fifteen years before, returns to Moose Creek, she is less than pleased. Not only does his re-appearance dredge up a deluge of painful memories, it also reminds everyone in town that it was he who left her, not the other way around. To make matters worse, Shay and Travis are unwittingly paired to play bride and groom in the annual Founder’s Day wedding re-enactment where, much to her chagrin, she discovers he still has the power to take her breath away.

Product Details:

List Price: $15.99

Paperback: 304 pages
Publisher: Thomas Nelson (January 3, 2012)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1595548025
ISBN-13: 978-1595548023

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

The bell above the diner’s door jingledand—despite her most valiant effort—Shay Brandenberger’s eyes darted toward theentry. An unfamiliar couple entered—tourists. She could tell by their khakiEddie Bauer vests and spanking-new hiking boots. Look out, Yellowstone.

When her heart rate returned to normal,she checked her watch and took a sip of coffee. Five minutes till she met MissLucy at the Doll House, forty till she met John Oakley at the bank. What if hesaid no? What would they do then?

“Mom . . . Earth to Mom . . .” Oliviawaved her hand too close to Shay’s face, her brown eyes widening.

“Sorry, hon.” The one bright moment ofher Saturday was breakfast with her daughter, and she couldn’t enjoy it for thedread. “What were you saying?”

Olivia set her fork on herpancake-sticky plate and heaved a sigh worthy of her twelve-year-old self.“Never mind.” She bounced across the vinyl bench, her thick brown ponytailswinging. “I’m going to meet Maddy.”

“Right back here at noon,” Shay called,but Olivia was out the door with the flick of her hand.

The diner buzzed with idle chatter.Silverware clattered and scraped, and the savory smell of bacon and fried eggsunsettled her stomach. She took a sip of the strong brew from the fat rim ofher mug.

The bell jingled again. I will not look. I willnot look. I will not—

The server appeared at her booth, a newgirl, and gathered Olivia’s dishes. “On the house today.”

Shay set down her mug, bristling. “Why?”

The woman shrugged. “Boss’s orders,” shesaid, then made off with the dirty dishes.

From the rectangular kitchen window,Mabel Franklin gave Shay a pointed look.

So Shay had helped the couple with theirfoal the week before. It was the neighborly thing to do.

Fine. She gave a reluctant smile and awave. She pulled her wallet from her purse, counted out the tip, and draggedherself from the booth, remembering her daughter’s bouncy exit. Lately herthirty-two years pressed down on her body like a two-ton boulder.

She opened the diner’s door and peekedboth ways before exiting the Tin Roof and turning toward the Doll House. Shewas only checking sidewalk traffic, not hiding. Nope, she wasn’t hiding fromanyone. The boardwalks were busy on Saturdays. That was why she hadn’t come totown for two weeks. Why their pantry was emptier than a water trough at highnoon.

She hurried three shops down and slippedinto the cool, welcoming air of Miss Lucy’s shop.

“ ’Morning, Miss Lucy.”

“ ’Morning, dear.” The elderly woman, inthe middle of helping a customer, called over her rounded shoulder, “It’s inthe back.” Miss Lucy’s brown eyes were big as buckeyes behind her thickglasses, and her white curls glowed under the spotlights.

“Okeydoke.” Shay forced her feet towardthe storeroom.

A musty smell assaulted her as sheentered the back room and flipped on the overhead fluorescents. She scanned theboxes of doll parts and skeins of yarn until she found what she was lookingfor. She approached the box, lifted the lid, and parted the tissue.

The wedding gown had been carefullyfolded and tucked away. Shay ran her fingers over the delicate lace and pearls.Must’ve been crisp white in its day, but time had cast a long shadow over it.Time had a way of doing that.

Her fingers lingered on the thin fabric.She remembered another time, another dress. A simple white one that hung on heryoung shoulders, just skimmed the cement of the courthouse steps. The ache thatsqueezed her heart had faded with time, but it was there all the same. Would itever go away?

Shaking her head, Shay turned back tothe task at hand. The gown seemed too pretty, too fragile to disturb.

Oh well. She’d promised.

She pulled it out and draped it over thebox, then shimmied from her jeans. When she was down to the bare necessities,she stepped carefully into the gown. She eased it over her narrow hips and slidher arms into the long sleeves. The neckline was modest, the gathered skirtfuller than anything she ever wore. Here in the air-conditioning it was fine,but she would swelter next Saturday.

Leaving the button-up back gaping, shehitched the skirt to the top of her cowboy boots and entered the store.

Miss Lucy was ushering the customer outthe door. When she turned, she stopped, her old-lady shoes squeaking on thelinoleum. “Land sakes.”

Shay took two steps forward and droppedthe skirt. It fell to the floor with a whoosh.

“Fits like a glove,” Miss Lucy said.“And with some low heels it’ll be the perfect length.”

Shay didn’t even own heels. “My boots’llhave to do. Button the back?”

Miss Lucy waddled forward, turned Shaytoward a small wall mirror flecked with time, and began working the tiny pearlbuttons.

Shay’s breath caught at her image. Sheforced its release, then frowned. Wedding gowns were bad luck. She’d swornshe’d never wear another. If someone had told her yesterday she’d be wearingthis thing today, she’d have said they were one straw short of a bale.

Miss Lucy moved up to the buttonsbetween her shoulders, and Shay lifted her hair. The dress did fit, clinging toher torso like it was made for her, wouldn’t you know. Even the colorcomplemented her olive skin.

Still, there was that whole bad luckthing.

And what would everyone think of ShayBrandenberger wearing this valuable piece of Moose Creek heritage? A whitewedding gown, no less. If she didn’t have the approval of her closest friendsand neighbors, what did she have? Not much, to her thinking.

She wanted to cut and run. Wanted toshimmy right out of the dress, tuck it into that box in the storeroom, slipback into her Levi’s and plaid button-up, and go back to her ranch where shecould hole up for the next six months.

She checked the time and wished MissLucy had nimbler fingers. Of all days to do this, a Saturday, when everyonewith two legs was in town. And she still had that infernal meeting with JohnOakley.

Please, God, I can’t lose our home . . .

“I’m obliged to you, dear. I completelyforgot Jessie was going out of town.”

“No problem.”

“Baloney. You’d rather be knee-deep incow dung.” The woman’s marionette lines at the sides of her mouth deepened.

“It’s one hour of my life.” A pittance,after all Miss Lucy had done for her.

Miss Lucy finished buttoning, and Shaydropped her hair and smoothed the delicate lace at the cuffs.

“Well, bless you for being willing. Godis smiling down on you today for your kindness.”

Shay doubted God really cared one way oranother. It was her neighbors she worried about.

“Beautiful, just beautiful. You’ll bethe talk of the town on Founders Day.”

“No doubt.” Everyone in Moose Creekwould be thinking about the last time she’d worn a wedding gown. And the timebefore that.

Especially the time before that.

Third time’s a charm, Shay thought, the corner of her lipturning up.

“Stop fretting,” Miss Lucy said,squeezing her shoulders. “You look quite fetching, like the gown was made foryou. I won’t have to make a single alteration. Why, it fits you better than itever did Jessie—don’t you tell her I said so.”

Shay tilted her head. Maybe Miss Lucywas right. The dress did make the most of her figure. And she had as much rightto wear it as anyone. Maybe more—she was born and raised here, after all. Itwas just a silly old reenactment anyway. No one cared who the bride and groomwere.

The bell jingled as the door openedbehind her. She glanced in the mirror, over her shoulder, where a hulkingsilhouette filled the shop’s doorway. There was something familiar in the setof the man’s broad shoulders, in the slow way he reached up and removed hishat.

The sight of him constricted her ribcage, squeezed the air from her lungs as if she were wearing a corset. But shewasn’t wearing a corset. She was wearing a wedding gown. Just as she had beenthe last time she’d set eyes on Travis McCoy.

First Snow by Christine Cunningham - Review

2012-01-05T16:18:00.000-05:00

First Snow
Willow Reed Series Vol. 1
Author: Christine Cunningham
Publisher: Eternal Beginning Publishing

About the Book:

What's the point Christmas without a family of your own? This question haunts Nell as she struggles to get into the holiday spirit. Her walking partner, Hasan seems to be the answer to her prayers until he mentions he doesn't want children. Will Christmas be a disappointment this year too?

My Thoughts:

Novellas are the type of story that will either really capture my interest or will bore me because of the lack of good character development. "First Snow" won me from the get-go. It handed me characters that I both enjoyed and felt a connection to. Penelope (Nell) was a woman that felt real and true to life with an honest desire and fear. Hasan, Nell's friend, was not as connectable for me - at least not in the beginning, but by the end, I was adoring him.

This story is based around the Christmas holiday, but could be an anytime read. It is sweet, clean, and had a nice cozy quality that I thoroughly enjoyed. With this being the first volume in the series, I'll be anxiously awaiting the next as I really want to find out what the next chapter in Nell's life holds!

About the Author:

I write fictional stories to uplift and inspire. I am a life-long student of happiness and how to attract it. I compile what I learn and weave it into an understandable and enjoyable story.

To learn more about Christine or her work, you can visit her blog at: http://mungoisischristine.blogspot.com/
Facebook http://www.facebook.com/CCNovels
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/E_B_ChristineC

I received an e-copy of this book to read and honestly review.

Cherry Blossom Capers by Gina Conroy, Cara C. Putman, Lynette Sowell, Frances Devine

2012-01-05T08:33:00.002-05:00

Today's Wild Card authors are:

Featured Author:

Gina Conroy

Authors of the other novellas in the Cherry Blossom Capers are:

Cara C. Putman, Lynette Sowell, Frances Devine

and the book:

Cherry Blossom Capers

Barbour Books (January 1, 2012)

***Special thanks to Gina Conroy for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHORS:

Gina Conroy:

Gina Conroy used to think she knew where her life was headed; now she's leaning on the Lord to show her the way. She is the founder of Writer...Interrupted where she mentors busy writers and tries to keep things in perspective, knowing God's timing is perfect, even if she doesn't agree with it! ;) She is represented by Chip MacGregor of MacGregor Literary, and her first novella, Buried Deception, in the Cherry Blossom Capers Collection, releases from Barbour Publishing in January 2012. On her blog Defying Gravity and twitter she chronicles her triumphs and trials as she pursues her dreams while encouraging her family and others to chase after their own passions. Gina loves to connect with readers, and when she isn’t writing, teaching, or driving kids around, you can find her on Facebook and Twitter.

Visit the author's website.

Cara C. Putman:

Since the time I could read Nancy Drew, I have wanted to write mysteries. In 2005 I attended a book signing at my local Christian bookstore. The rest, as they say, is history. There I met Colleen Coble. With prompting from my husband, I shared my dream with Colleen. Since those infamous words, I've been writing books.

My eleventh novel released in April 2011, and I have also written one non-fiction title (the Complete Idiots Guide to Business Law). Look for three more titles in spring 2012.

In addition to writing, I am an attorney, lecturer at a Big Ten university, active in women's ministry, and all around crazy woman. Crazy about God, my husband and my kids. I graduated with honors from the University of Nebraska-Lincoln (Go Huskers!) and George Mason Law School.

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Lynette Sowell:

Lynette Sowell is the award-winning author of four novels and six novellas for Barbour Publishing. In 2009, Lynette was voted one of the favorite new authors by Heartsong Presents book club readers. Her historical romance, All That Glitters, was a finalist in ACFW's 2010 Carol Awards. When Lynette's not writing, she divides her time between editing medical reports and chasing down news stories for the Copperas Cove Leader-Press. Lynette was born in Massachusetts, raised on the Eastern Shore of Maryland, but makes her home on the doorstep of the Texas hill country with her husband and a herd of cats who have them well-trained. She loves reading, cooking, watching movies, and is always up for a Texas road trip.
You can find Lynette at her Facebook author page.

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Frances Devine:

FRANCES DEVINE is first a Christian, second a Mom, grandmother and great grandmother. After that, the most important thing in her life is books. Like most authors, she can’t remember a time when she didn’t love to read. And right from the beginning, she was crazy about mysteries. When she was in her sixties, she decided it would be fun to write them and the Miss Aggie series was born. She has also written two historical romance series and several novellas. Frances grew up in Texas and still loves her home state, but when she moved to Missouri in 1984, she fell in love with the changing seasons, the trees and hills. The Misadventures of Miss Aggie series is set in the Missouri Ozarks. Frances loves to hear from her readers at fdevine1@gmail.com. She also welcomes comments on her blog .

Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Collection Summary, releasing January 2012

Four townhouse neighbors encounter romance and mystery near our nation’s capital. In State Secrets, White House assistant chef Tara Whitley and FBI agent Jack Courtland stop a plot to sabotage a State dinner—and find love still hidden in their hearts. In Dying for Love, attorneys and opponents Ciara Turner and Daniel Evans uncover love while searching for justice. In Buried Deception, archaeologist Samantha Steele and security guard Nick Porter dig up love while uncovering a forged artifact. In Coffee, Tea and Danger, amateur sleuths Susan Holland and Vince Martini find love while investigating a string of mysterious accidents.

Featured Novella: Buried Deception by Gina Conroy

Mount Vernon archaeology intern and widow Samantha Steele wants to provide for her children without assistance from anyone. Security guard and ex-cop Nick Porter is haunted by his past and keeps his heart guarded. But when they discover an artifact at Mount Vernon is a fake, Nick and Samantha need to work together, set aside their stubbornness, and rely on each other or the results could be deadly. Will Samantha relinquish her control to a man she hardly knows? Can Nick learn to trust again? And will they both allow God to excavate their hearts so they can find new love?

Product Details:

List Price: $7.99

Paperback: 352 pages
Publisher: Barbour Books (January 1, 2012)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1616266465
ISBN-13: 978-1616266462

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER OF "BURIED DECEPTION" OF CHERRY BLOSSOM CAPERS:

“Buried Deception” of Cherry Blossom Capers

Alex, come back!” Samantha Steele’s heart jolted, and she darted after her seven-year-old son. The little renegade ignored her pleas and ran full-throttle toward the dig site behind the slave quarters at Mount Vernon Estates. She glanced at Callie, her nine-year-old, who huffed after her. Why’d her sitter get sick the first day of her archaeology internship?
      Samantha pursued Alex through the upper garden toward the archaeology pit where tourists gathered. Her chest tightened. Squatting in the dirt, her boss seemed oblivious to the runaway locomotive about to cause a train wreck.
      Samantha prayed that her first encounter with her boss wouldn’t be her last, but two years earlier, God didn’t intervene.
      Why would He now?
      “Watch out!” Her warning came late as Alex crashed into a dark-headed man in a navy uniform. God’s answer to prayer wasn’t a surprise. The God she knew remained distant, often
turning up the heat when all she wanted was to escape the fire.
Something thumped against Nick Porter’s hip. His drink blew its top, spilling Coke on his security uniform as he dropped his sack. His double cheeseburger and fries tumbled out. “Hey,
watch it!”
      The kid who’d plowed into him jumped back.
      Two weeks on the job and he’d made a mess of things.
      A petite brunette in khaki shorts scurried to his mangled meal. She stuffed it back in the sack, hunching as she offered it. “So sorry.”
      Nick’s stomach growled. Just what he wanted. A side of dirt with his burger.
      She nudged the freckle-faced kid forward.
      The boy resisted. Nick’s frown softened. So much like—
      She sighed. “My son is sorry, Officer.”
      “It’s Nick Porter, and I’m just security.” Security. He hated the sound of it.
      “What happened to the Mount Vernon police?”
      “One of many cutbacks.”
      She wrote on a business card and handed it to him. Samantha Steele.
      “Send me the dry-cleaning bill.”
      “Don’t worry about it.”
      The blond girl waved her brochure. “This says there’s no food allowed except in the designated eating areas.”
      “This one yours, too?” He pointed to the cherub-faced girl. “Charming kids, Mrs. Steele.” He couldn’t hide his sarcasm, the one emotion that remained.
      “It’s Ms. Steele. My husband died two years ago.”
      Nick spotted Samantha’s naked ring finger. Stupid. As a cop, he never missed a detail. “Sorry.” He paused. “I lost my wife, too.” Why was he confessing to a stranger?
      Her eyes sympathized as if she understood his pain.
      Impossible.
      The kid dug into his pocket. “Here.” Tiny fingers tickled Nick’s palm as the boy released the coins. “I’m really sorry, mister.” The boy’s hazel eyes pierced Nick’s soul.
      Nick fought the stirring as memories surfaced. A heaviness descended as they walked away. He should’ve thanked the kid, or at least refused his money. If he could rewind the last few moments, he would. But God didn’t give second chances.
      If He did, they certainly weren’t free.
Gripping Alex’s hand, Samantha plodded toward the mansion to catch the tour before her orientation. She inhaled the magnolia breeze, her nerves calming. Something about that security guard unsettled her. Sure, he had Cary Grant looks, but minus the cleft chin and charm he was nothing to swoon over. Besides, she wouldn’t play anyone’s leading lady again. Oh boy.
Classic-movie night with her town house neighbors at Cherry Blossom Estates was getting to her.
      The three of them followed the tour into the large mint-green dining room. Samantha admired the intricate white agricultural moldings and crystal dinnerware as the African-
American docent dressed in period attire shared the history.
      Alex looked up. “This ceiling is huge.”
      “They’re double the size of ceilings at the time.” Samantha studied the detailed carving. “Washington was a great innovator.”
      “They had elevators?” Alex whipped his head around. “Can I ride?”
      Callie rolled her eyes. “An innovator, not elevator.”
      “May I have your attention?” The guide adjusted her head scarf. “Please don’t touch anything.” Her plump figure squeezed through the crowd.
      “When my younguns misbehave, I take a switch to them.” The woman’s words grew thick as biscuit gravy. “Can’t have them disrespecting the president now, could I?”
      Samantha withdrew from the woman. But Alex pointed to her name tag. Althea Washington. “Are you related to George Washington?”
      “She can’t be related; she’s a slave, bozo.” Callie elbowed Alex.
      Samantha’s face flushed. “She’s only playing a slave.”
      “Next time I sees Masta Washington, I’ll introduce you so you can ask him yourself.” Althea returned to the front. “We’ll pass through the little parlor with the harpsichord President Washington bought for his stepdaughter, Nelly Custis.” Her Southern accent morphed to normal. She glared at Alex. “Please, keep your hands to yourself.”
      Something seemed off about Ms. Washington’s role playing. “Stay close and act civilized.” Wouldn’t want to upset her if she had some screws loose underneath that head scarf.
      Walking through the little parlor, Samantha squeezed Alex’s hand. Once inside the central passage, her grip relaxed. Marveling at the beautiful mahogany-grained walls, she imagined Washington entertaining guests with doors open as a summer breeze cooled the house.
      Callie walked into the front parlor. Samantha followed, her arms swinging, carefree and—empty. Alex?
      When did she let go? She spun. Surveyed the entryway. No Alex.
      “Where’s your brother?”
      Callie shrugged.
      “Stay with the group.” Samantha hurried across the hall into the small dining room. Footsteps echoed. She peeked out, her heart beating a warning.
      Just her luck Nick Porter’d be patrolling the mansion while Alex went AWOL.
      Samantha waited until Nick disappeared; then she jogged up the staircase and surveyed the second floor. The sign on the first door said Closed for Renovations. She checked the
other rooms. All empty.
      A door slammed. She turned. Alex scurried from the first room.
      “Alex!” she whispered, following him downstairs and through the bedchamber. The study door closed. She raced in and gasped.
      Perched on Washington’s chair, Alex reached toward the terrestrial globe.
      “Stop!” She reached for him, holding her breath as if a tiny wind would send him falling onto the antique.
      He froze.
      She lowered her voice. “I’m not mad.” Yet. “Climb down.”
      Alex eyed the globe, then jumped off and shuffled toward her like Sylvester with a mouthful of Tweety.
      Heat exploded inside her. “Do I need to buy a leash?”
      For the past two years she’d dealt with Alex’s unpredictable behavior. She understood he missed his father, so she’d been patient. “Let’s find Callie.”
      Swinging around for the door, she slammed into a human wall. Her purse fell. Nick Porter retrieved it as she scrambled after her lipstick.
      “Ma’am, you shouldn’t be in here.” He reached to help her up. Their eyes met. “You?”
      “Sorry, we’re leaving.” But before Samantha grabbed Alex’s hand, he raced toward the presidential chair.
      Climbed.
      Reached.
      Touched.
      “Don’t!” Nick ran to him.
      The globe went whirling.
      Samantha gasped as the globe’s stand wobbled, her world teetering on the edge of destruction. She fought to breathe as she reached for the antique. It was too late. Like dominoes the globe toppled, knocking against the table by the window, which sent the brass telescope on top catapulting to the ground.
Nick snatched the telescope pieces from Samantha’s hands. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to see the antique was beyond repair.
      He set the globe upright, examining it and the table that broke the globe’s fall. No scratches or nicks. Now he got his miracle?
      “Sorry, Mommy. Are they still gonna let you work here?”
      Nick stared at Samantha. “What’d he say?”
      “I—I’m doing an archaeology internship. This summer.”
      This wasn’t the last he’d see of her and Captain Chaos? “I’ll have to report this.”
      “Wait. Maybe it can be fixed.”
      As the kid crawled under the desk, remnants of Nick’s paternal heart wanted to comfort the boy. “You’d better come out.” Had he remembered to soften his tone?
      The kid scooted from under the desk. Samantha stroked his hair. “I’ll make everything okay.” She took the eyepiece and barrel from him, tried to fit them together.
      “What am I thinking? This isn’t a flea market item I can fix with glue. It’s Washington’s original brass telescope. It survived over two hundred years and millions of tourists, but it couldn’t survive my son.” Tears welled.
      Nick shifted his weight, wishing she’d dam that river. He wasn’t heartless; he just never knew how to handle women’s emotions. “I’m calling this in now.”
      “Isn’t there something we can do?” Her eyes locked on his like a deer caught in his headlights. He rushed to close the doors on either end of the room. He was insane to risk his job to help this stranger, no matter how much she needed rescuing.
      There was something about her. . .needing him. Voices echoed outside the door. “Stay here.”
      “My daughter—I need to get her.”
      “She’ll be fine.” Nick stepped out. “Room’s closed.” He shut the door.
      “Did you see Callie?”
      “She’s fine.” His gut knotted. “She won’t try a stunt like young Knievel here or turn George’s bed into a trampoline, right?”
      Color pinched Samantha’s cheeks. “Callie would never—just because Alex is curious and clumsy doesn’t make me a terrible mom.”
      “I never said that.”
      “You didn’t have to.” She crossed her arms.
      He shook his head. “We’ll stay put until the tour is finished. Then you’ll find Callie, and we’ll figure this out together.” Together? He definitely needed his head examined. “They have
insurance. I’m sure they’ll understand when we explain.” He took the eyepiece and barrel from her.
      Samantha gripped Nick’s arm. “There has to be another way.”
      An unexpected longing panged. He couldn’t abandon her now.
      With a sigh, he worked the eyepiece into the barrel and sighted toward the Potomac. What? He looked again, his pulse accelerating. A hearty laugh erupted.
      “My life’s falling apart, and you’re laughing?” Samantha’s nostrils flared.
      “It’s not what you think.”
      “Then what’s so funny?”
      “The telescope is a fake.”

My Thoughts:

"Cherry Blossom Capers" contains 4 novellas written by four fantastic authors, but today, I am going to focus on just one of the novellas - Gina Conroy's "Buried Deception". This fast paced romantic suspense will have you quickly turning the pages to see what happens next as Alex and Samantha work together to find clues to find what happened to a missing artifact.

Full of action and suspense, this novella is one that can be read in an afternoon and perfect for an afternoon of escapism.