Kate Lloyd is celebrating the release of book two in her Legacy of Lancaster Trilogy, Pennsylvania Patchwork, by giving away an authentic Amish-made quilt!
One “grand” winner receive:
Enter today by clicking one of the icons below. But hurry, the giveaway ends on June 29th. Winner will be announced on July 1st at Kate’s blog.
Pennsylvania Patchwork
By Kate Lloyd
Seattle native Holly Fisher is smitten by Lancaster County, its simplicity and her long lost relatives. In the sequel to bestselling Leaving Lancaster, Holly embraces the Amish culture, learning to slow down to see what — and who — really matters.
Meeting the family that her mother had kept hidden from her, Holly comes face to face with her real life and blood legacy. She also falls for the charming Zach, a handsome Mennonite veterinarian who is everything she’s ever wanted in a husband: confident, kind, successful, and authentic. And Zach proposes marriage. Is this too soon? Is this the right choice? Mother and Amish grandmother think she’s rushing into too much of a lifestyle change. Holly is in love with Zach and that precludes everything. Until she meets an attractive Amish man. And an old suitor shows up.
Pennyslvania Patchwork is the moving, richly told story of one woman’s heart, her faith and trust, and the choices she makes. Never easy, but one choice can change your destiny.
ISLAND BREEZES
Finding her grandmother and a way of life that was kept from her has Holly in a new home that becomes immersed in drama.
She falls in love with Zach, but her family has some doubts about her marrying a Mennonite man. Then two other men come along to really confuse the issue.
It’s difficult to figure out what happens next in this book. That’s one reason I like it.
As Holly said, her life is truly like a soap opera. She and others have decision to make – decisions that could change a person’s destiny.
Although this is a sequel, it is a good stand alone read. I do want to read Leaving Lancaster (book one) and am looking forward the reading the last book in this trilogy.
***A special thank you to litfuse for providing a review copy.***
Author Kate Lloyd is a passionate observer of human relationships. A native of Baltimore, Kate spends time with family and friends in Lancaster County, PA, the inspiration for her novels. She is a member of the Lancaster County Mennonite Historical Society. Kate and her husband live in the Pacific Northwest. Kate studied painting and sculpture in college. She’s worked a variety of jobs, including car salesman and restaurateur.
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!
Kathleen Fuller is the author of over twenty books, including the best-selling Hearts of Middlefield series. She lives with her husband of twenty years, James, and their three teenagers in Geneva, OH. Visit her website at www.kathleenfuller.com.
Everything changed between them the first time he called her Katie.
Katherine Yoder has loved Johnny Mullet since they were children, but he never actively returned her affections. Like so many things in their world, he assumes Katherine will always be there. Once his horse farm is a success, then he will court her in earnest.
For several weeks, Katherine has been plagued by severe headaches and dizziness. While resting at home, Johnny unexpectedly visits, but when dizziness strikes, she loses consciousness. She awakens hours later in a hospital bed, unable to remember how she got there.
Seeing Katherine injured and vulnerable stirs something in Johnny, and his guilt compels him to spend time with her while she heals. Soon his heart begins to stir with questions: Does she even remember why he’d come to her house that day?
As Katherine struggles to recall recent memories of Johnny, a surprise visitor arrives in her already unsteady world—a man named Isaac who claims they had been writing letters to each other, even considering marriage, before her illness.
With two men vying for her attention and her memory still elusive, Katherine has never felt so divided. The answer may lie behind a door she never considered opening.
Product Details:
List Price: $15.99
Paperback: 320 pages
Publisher: Thomas Nelson (May 7, 2013)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1595547770
ISBN-13: 978-1595547774
ISLAND BREEZES
You’d better have that box of tissues with you when you read this book. Katherine Yoder and Johnny Mullet both had a problem with focusing on the right things.
Each was fixated on the other, but it wasn’t really healthy. It was causing much confusion and unhappiness.
At the same time friends Sawyer and Laura had to deal with family members who didn’t want them to marry.
These two couples have barriers to overcome in order to have a peace filled life.
This was my first Middlefield Family novel, but it won’t be my last. Thank you, Kathleen Fuller.
AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:
“Of course I do.” Mary Beth touched the soft flannel quilt, running her fingers over the pale yellow, blue, and peach blocks. Each block had a ragged edge, a new pattern she hadn’t attempted before. The simple style was well suited for a baby, and Mary Beth’s was due within a few weeks.
“I love it.” Mary Beth folded the quilt and placed it on her knees, her expanded belly barely allowing the space. “Danki for such a beautiful gift. Although I don’t see how you have the time, working so many hours at the restaurant.”
All I have is time, Katherine thought. She pushed the self-pity aside and managed a smile. She didn’t want to ruin the moment between them with jealousy. Unlike Mary Beth Shetler, Katherine didn’t have a husband—and soon a child—to take care of. Outside of working at Mary Yoder’s and helping her parents at home, her only other pursuits were her sewing and needlework. She was always busy, yet longed for something different. Something more.
Apparently God had other plans.
Mary Beth managed to rise from the chair in her tiny kitchen. Her husband Chris had built the four-room home behind Mary Beth’s parents’ property. The dwelling resembled a dawdi haus, and likely would be used as such once the rest of Mary Beth’s siblings—Johnny, Caleb, Micah, and Eli—married and left home. But for now, the tidy, cozy home was enough.
And more than Katherine had.
Mary Beth placed the quilt on the table. “I’m glad you came over. Since I’ve gotten so big, I haven’t gotten out much.” Her light blue dress draped over her bulging belly.
Katherine’s eyes widened. “Are you sure you’re not having twins?”
“Nee.” Her friend laughed. “But I look like I am.” With a waddling gait she moved to the cabinet. “Do you want anything to drink?”
Katherine shook her head. “I can’t stay too long. I wanted to make sure you got the quilt before the boppli arrived. I have to work later today.”
“Maybe just a few minutes?” Mary Beth went back to the table and sat down. She reached for Katherine’s hand. “It’s been so long since we talked. ”
“We’ve both been busy.” She squeezed her friend’s hand. “And you’ll be even busier in a few weeks.”
“Ya.” A radiant glow appeared on Mary Beth’s cheeks. “But I don’t want us to drift apart. You’re mei best friend.”
Katherine released her hand. “And I promise I’ll be the best aenti to your boppli.”
“The baby has plenty of onkels, that’s for sure.” Her smile dimmed a little.
Katherine frowned. “What’s wrong? It’s not the boppli, is it?”
“Nee.”
“Chris?”
“Chris is fine too. We’re happier than we’ve ever been. “
“Then what is it?”
Mary Beth sighed, but she didn’t reply.
“You know you can tell me anything. If something’s troubling you, I want to help.”
Her friend looked at Katherine. “It’s Johnny.”
Katherine’s heart twisted itself into a knot. She glanced away before steeling her emotions. “What about Johnny?”
“Are you sure you want to talk about him?”
“I’ve accepted that there’s no future for us. What I felt for Johnny was a childhood crush.”
A crush. The truth was, Katherine had loved Mary Beth’s twin brother Johnny for as long as she could remember. For years she held out hope for a chance, however small, however remote. She had clung to that dream as if she were drowning and it was her only lifeline.
But not anymore.
She sat straight in the chair, brightened her smile, and said, “What’s going on with him?”
“He’s been acting. . .different.”
“What do you mean?”
“Distant. Partly because he’s been working so many hours at the buggy shop. Mamm said she barely sees him except for church service. He leaves early in the morning and comes home late. But when he is around, he’s quiet.”
“That doesn’t sound like him,” Katherine said. “Do you think he’s keeping something from your familye?”
Something. . .or someone?
Despite Katherine’s vow not to care, her heart constricted again at the thought.
“I don’t know.” Mary Beth’s brown eyes had lost the warmth they’d held moments ago. “He’s becoming like a stranger to me. To all of us. We’ve drifted apart.” Her smile faded. “Like you and I have.”
Katherine shook her head in protest. “You know I’m always here for you.”
Tears welled in Mary Beth’s eyes.
Katherine drew back. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“I’m always crying.” Mary Beth wiped her eyes. “It makes Chris ab im kopp. Hormones, I’m sure.” She sniffed, wiping her eyes. “I’m glad we’re still best friends.”
Katherine hugged Mary Beth. “We always will be.”
*****
Johnny Mullet put his hands on his hips and surveyed his new property. Four acres, a small house and an even smaller barn. All his.
The sad little farm didn’t look like much. But by the time he finished fixing everything up, no one would recognize it. He glanced at the empty pasture on the left side of the house. Tall grass, green and dense, swayed against a southerly breeze. He planned to purchase that acreage, too. Expand, and make his horse farm something he could be proud of.
If only Daed could see. . .
At the thought of his father, the grin faded from his face.
Hochmut, his father would say. Pride.
The worst character flaw any Amish could have.
But was there something wrong with feeling satisfied after hard work? After a job well done?
This wasn’t about pride. It was about independence. Making a good living. He’d seen his family struggle. He didn’t want that for his future. A future that, God willing, wouldn’t include only him.
With the hazy orange sun dipping below the horizon, Johnny hopped into his buggy and headed home. Ten minutes later he pulled up to his parents’ house. He was late for supper. Again. He quickly put up his horse and hurried into the house, sliding into his seat just as his father closed his eyes for grace.
After prayer, his mother passed his father a platter of ham. He speared a slice with his fork, peering at Johnny as he did. “Late day at work again?”
Johnny picked up a roll from the basket on the table. He drew in a deep breath. “Nee.”
“Then why are you late?”
“I bought a farm.”
Silence. Johnny glanced around the table. Caleb’s mouth dropped open, and Micah’s fork was poised in mid-air. Even six-year-old Eli gave him a funny look. “You what?” His mother’s eyes went wide with shock.
“You know that house down the road a piece? The one with the barn in the back?”
“You mean that shack?” Caleb shook his head.
Micah scooped up a forkful of green beans. “Calling it a shack is a stretch.”
Their father cleared his throat. The boys ducked their heads and kept eating. He turned to Johnny. “When did you do this?”
“Signed the paperwork yesterday.”
“Where did you get the money?”
He was already tired of the third degree, but he had expected no less. “Savings. From my job at Gideon Bender’s.”
“You must have gotten it for a song,” Caleb added. “Or less than a song. Maybe just a note.” He chuckled.
“Caleb.” His father shot him a silencing look before turning to Johnny again. “I wish you had consulted me first.”
“I’m an adult, Daed. I didn’t think I had to.” Seeing the flash of hurt in his father’s eyes, he added, “Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”
“I hope so.”
“Maybe you two could discuss this after supper?” Mamm’s lips pinched into a thin line. “The food is getting cold.”
Daed nodded, and dug into his food. No one said anything for the rest of the meal. But all Johnny could think about was the disappointed look on his father’s face.
****
Cora Easely gripped the smart phone in her hand. “The doctor wants me to do what?”
“He’d like to see you again,” the nurse repeated in a crisp, emotionless tone. “As soon as possible.”
“Why?”
“He’d like to run a few more tests.”
“How many more tests does he need?” Cora looked down at the bruise on her arm from the blood draw she’d received a few days ago. For months she’d been poked, prodded, scanned, and questioned. The dehumanizing madness had to stop. Her weary body couldn’t take it anymore.
“You tell Dr. Clemens I’m through with his tests. If he doesn’t have a treatment plan by now, clearly I need to see a more competent doctor.”
Silence on the other line. The nurse cleared her throat. “Mrs. Easley, Dr. Clemens is just being thorough.”
“Too thorough, if you ask me.”
“Are you refusing more testing?”
“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m doing.”
A pause. “I’ll mark that in your chart. You’ll still need to meet with Dr. Clemens at your earliest convenience. He will want to talk to you.”
“And I want to talk to him.” This nonsense had gone on long enough. She already had a diagnosis—Parkinson’s. What she didn’t have was a cure.
After making her appointment, Cora clicked off her phone and laid it on the glass coffee table. She walked to the large window in her penthouse and looked at the landscape in front of her. New York. The city of her birth, the place she’d lived all her life. But everything had changed in the past few months, changes she never expected.
Her hands trembled. The shaking had worsened over the past two weeks. Dr. Clemens had said to expect it. She hated that he was right.
Parkinson’s. The diagnosis terrified her. She’d briefly glanced at the literature about the disease, only to promptly dispose of the pamphlets after reading about some of the symptoms. Loss of memory. Loss of motor function. Loss of control.
Cora Easely had never been out of control. She’d dictated and orchestrated every aspect of her life except for one. And now she was facing the possibility that within the next couple of years, she wouldn’t even be in control of her bodily functions. What kind of life was that? Not one she wanted to live.
“Señora?”
Cora turned to look at her maid, a faithful servant for the past several years. If it hadn’t been for Manuela, her grandson, Sawyer, wouldn’t have found out the truth about his parents and the reason his mother ran off with his father. Or the story behind the estranged relationship she had with her daughter Kerry, and how Kerry had tried to mend the rift between them. Cora’s stubbornness had thwarted that. And now her grandson didn’t seem to want to have anything to do with her.
When he left to find Laura Stutzman two months ago, he swore he’d return. But he hadn’t. She wasn’t sure he ever would.
“Señora?” Manuela repeated. “Por favor. Did you hear me?”
“Sorry. Lost in my thoughts, I suppose.”
“Is everything all right?”
“Everything is fine.” But it couldn’t be further from the truth. She walked away from the window. “I need a glass of sparkling water.”
“Sí. Anything else?”
“No, just the water. Bring it to my bedroom.”
Manuela nodded and disappeared from the room. Cora made her way to her spacious bedroom. She sat on the edge of her bed, the silk comforter rustling from the movement. She picked up the landline phone on the mahogany end table. Dialed a familiar number. Tensed when she heard the voicemail.
“This is Sawyer. Leave a message.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but words failed. She couldn’t tell her grandson about her diagnosis. Not like this. She’d have to find another way. But she had no idea how.
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!
LESLEY ANN MCDANIEL is a lifelong lover of words, animals, and musical theatre.
Born in Missoula, Montana, she was one of the original Dwarfs in the Missoula Children’s Theatre’s inaugural production of “Snow White”, which is still touring the world.
While earning a degree in acting at Willamette University in Salem, Oregon, she fell in love with theatrical costuming, and pursued that as a career while nurturing her passion for writing on the side. Through God’s guidance, she has shifted her focus to honing her skills as a writer of romance and young adult fiction.
Between working as a homeschooling mom and as a professional theatre costumer, Lesley has completed several novels. She would have done more by now if she didn’t also occasionally stop to clean the house and fold the laundry. Fortunately she loves to cook, so no one in her family has starved yet.
She is a member of the Northwest Christian Writers Association, American Christian Fiction Writers, and a wonderful critique group. A native Montanan and a Big Sky girl at heart, Lesley now resides in the Seattle area with her husband, two daughters, three cats and a big loud dog. In her spare time (ha!) she chips away at her goal of reading every book ever written.
Visit the author’s website.
Will COURTNEY JACOBS do whatever it takes to keep her job as personal assistant to an A-list movie actress? While filming in Thornton Springs, Montana, Courtney’s demanding boss insists she set her up with ranch owner ADAM GREENE as a romantic “diversion”. The only problem? Courtney’s fallen for him herself. Now she’s forced to merge the resurrection of her lost faith, her growing love for this town, and her attraction to Adam with her Hollywood career ambitions. What’s a girl to do?
Product Details:
List Price: $4.99
Mass Market Paperback: 192 pages
Publisher: Love Inspired (June 4, 2013)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0373486634
ISBN-13: 978-0373486632
ISLAND BREEZES
Boy meets girl. Boy falls in love with girl. Girl falls in love with boy. They get married and live happily ever after.
Hold on with that last sentence. It doesn’t happen that way. Girl thinks boy is in love with someone else. Boy thinks girl doesn’t love him. After all, she’s in the movie business and likes big cities. Boy owns a ranch and won’t leave the wide open spaces.
How can they possibly overcome all that?
AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:
She danced around a coil of electrical cables then sidestepped a set painter as he examined the distressing he’d given a storefront. Wincing as the gaffer shouted out coarse instructions to his crew of lighting techs, she ducked to avoid a swooping boom pole.
A contented sigh slipped through her lips. With just four independent films on her résumé— two a year since graduating from college—she felt lucky to have booked a major studio-backed project so early in her career.
She’d been hired as personal assistant to the star, Angela Bijou—an A-list actress with a reputation for supreme diva behavior and for taking up with her leading men. Angela had made it clear from day one that Jeffrey Mark Caulfield (sizzling from the recent success of The Pharaoh’s Tomb), would be no exception.
The bleep of Courtney’s cell phone drew her from her wandering thoughts. Balancing her still-full cup on the edge of her clipboard, she opened a text from the key costumer.
‘Ms. Bju s neded 4 a finl fttng of hr Act 3 pRT gwn 2moro @ 2. B sur sh’s thr.’
Courtney gnawed at her lower lip. If Ms. Bijou didn’t know about the fttng, it would be one more thing for her to take out on Courtney.
Hurrying down the center of the newly dirt-encrusted street, she clenched her cup between her teeth and shoved her clipboard under her arm. She flicked open the phone keyboard and tapped out a response while dodging a gaggle of grips positioning an old wooden wagon by the edge of the just-built boardwalk.
‘2moro @ 2. No woriez.’
Nearing the area where the first scene of the day would be shot, Courtney hit ‘send’ and scanned the street. Several cast members milled about in costume but—no surprise—Angela wasn’t among them. Giving a cursory glance to the pink berry Swatch she’d been given as a ‘thank you’ from her actress on her last movie, she headed toward the make-up trailer in the hope that Angela had made it to her call on time.
Striding across the set, she drank in the liveliness of her surroundings. It was great being a part of something this vital. So what if her job at the moment was keeping the leading lady on-schedule? She was an indispensable cog in the machine.
“Court-neeey!”
Stopping in her tracks, Courtney spun around to face the familiar angry command. From the first day of rehearsals, Angela Bijou had demonstrated an annoying articulation of Courtney’s name that made the word itself sound like an outright accusation.
“You had better explain what’s going on here!” The woman stormed toward Courtney with a heated, resolute gait and fire in her famous jade green eyes. Her flimsy peach silk cover-up and matching turban signified that she hadn’t yet made it to hair or wardrobe, and screamed look at me—I’m a star.
Courtney opened her mouth to respond, but Angela cut her off with a tirade that rivaled Hurricane Katrina.
“Are you completely incompetent?” Angela screeched as she planted her lithe form two feet from where Courtney stood.
As the blood rose to her face, Courtney became painfully aware that the entire cast and crew had turned to gawk. “What’s the matter, Ms. Bijou?” She fought to keep her tone level.
“What’s the matter?” Angela tossed her platinum pin-curled head back with such force her tiny neck made a faint cracking sound. “The ‘matter’ is that I have no water in my trailer.”
Courtney let that register. All this fuss over a plumbing problem?
“D’eau Douce.” Angela crossed her willowy arms. “Imported from France. Does that ring a bell? I’m supposed to have four sixteen ounce bottles chilling in my trailer every morning when I arrive.”
“Oh….” Courtney skimmed her memory. “For…drinking?”
“Yes, for drinking.” Angela gave her a scowl that implied she should audition for the next season of American Idiot. “I wash my face in pure Norwegian spring water, which by the way I didn’t see in there either.”
Courtney heard herself utter something about making a few phone calls to Norway as she took a giant step backward.
“Look,” Angela apparently wasn’t done yelling. “I need sixty-four ounces a day. How else am I supposed to keep my skin so youthful and clear?” She drew her fingertips across her youthful, clear cheek for emphasis. “Every. Single. Day.”
“Uh… okay, Ms. Bijou.” Courtney scribbled out a note on the top page of her clipboard as she took a half-step in what she hoped was the direction of water of all desirable nationalities. A thought stopped her cold. “Was that sixty-four ounces of the drinking water or the washing kind?”
Angela’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t play dumb. Obviously, you knew about this.”
Gripping her half-cup of tepid coffee between her thumb and her index finger, Courtney flipped through the papers on her clipboard as if to exonerate herself from this allegation. She knew nothing about her actress’ water preference and made a mental note to be sure always to ask in the future.
With what she hoped would read as a competent smile, she turned to go, smacking into a carpenter as he flew past with an armload of railroad ties. Coffee flew from her cup, splashing across her papers and down the front of her sea green t-shirt. She winced.
Angela’s shrieky voice rang out from behind. “Check my contract! I need my water every day I’m on the set. I’m supposed to have it!”
Courtney clutched her clipboard to her stained front and darted toward what appeared to be a grocery store in the next block. If the last five minutes were any indication of things to come, this shoot was going to be a nightmare.
***
“Yessir, this is just about the biggest thing that’s ever happened in this town.” Cal wiped his hands on his apron and stretched a long gaze out the front window of his general store.
Casting a dubious glance at Cal from under the brim of his Stetson, Adam Greene drew in a long breath. It was great that the movie people were boosting the town’s flagging economy, but apart from that he really didn’t see what all the fuss was about. “Say Cal, you got any of those red lentils left? Janessa made a killer stew last week and I’d like her to surprise us with a repeat performance.”
Cal wrested his attention away from the window. “That sister ‘a yours is gettin’ to be more like your mama every day. A regular Mary Stewart.”
Adam grinned. “I think you mean Martha. Martha Stewart. Don’t tell Janessa that, though. She’s dead set against the idea of making some lucky man a great wife someday.”
Cal’s head bobbed as he grabbed a jar of beans off a shelf. “Still determined to get outta Dodge now that she’s graduated high school, eh?”
“She’s got plans.” Adam studied a barrel of apples. “Nothing wrong with that.”
“Not a thing. I just know you and your mama will miss her is all.”
“True.” Grabbing the brown bag of lentils Cal had filled for him, Adam raised an earnest smile. He had a full seven years on his baby sister and had been the man of the house since their father’s death when Adam was fifteen. It was strange to think of her leaving the nest. “Far be it from me to stand in the way of an ambitious female—”
Abruptly, the front door burst open and in flew a young woman gripping a clipboard and a paper cup. She pushed a strand of sandy blonde hair from her forehead with the rim of the cup as she scanned the store, urgency fairly sparking from her hazel eyes. Adam’s gaze dawdled a little longer than he liked to consider gentlemanly.
As she surged purposefully toward the counter, his eyes followed. She looked young and pretty in a fresh-faced, no make-up sort of way. Judging from the walkie-talkie clipped to her belt, she must be some sort of behind-the-scenes worker, not an actress. A corner of his mouth lifted. Maybe having the movie people in town wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.
Cal lit up. “What can I do for you, young lady?”
She spoke with a resolute clip. “Please tell me you carry D’eau Douce.”
The smile slid from Cal’s face. “Doe Do…what?”
“It’s French.” She tapped the clipboard with the cup and scouted around some more.
Sensing that Cal could use a hand on this one, Adam stepped up to the counter. “Excuse me, ma’am. Maybe I can help…uh…translate?”
“Sure.” Avoiding his gaze, she continued to search the shelves. “Do you speak ‘actress’?”
“I’m sorry, no.” While he felt for her obvious United Nations dilemma, he couldn’t help but dwell on how pretty she was. “What exactly is this thing you’re looking for?”
“Water.” She moved a few feet to peruse the refrigerator case where Cal kept the milk and juice. “What kind of mineral water do you carry?”
Adam cast an amused glance at Cal, whose expression had grown even more befuddled.
“I don’t…I mean….” Cal stammered.
Seeing where this was going, Adam chimed in. “You’ll be hard pressed to find any of those fancy bottled waters here, ma’am.”
As her head snapped toward him, their eyes met for the first time. “No water? But what do people here drink?”
Adam tipped a shrug. “We drink well water, mostly. We’ve got the best mountain spring water you’ve ever tasted. I’d be happy to—”
“No. I mean…thank you.” Shifting the cup to the hand that held the clipboard, she pulled a cell phone out of a pouch on her waistband, and started punching in numbers as she moved toward the door. Looking back, her eyes rested briefly on Adam. “Thanks anyway.” With a slight smile, she yanked open the door and bolted out.
Leaning against the counter, Adam pushed his hat back a touch and folded his arms.
Cal gave him a good-natured cuff to the bicep. “Shouldn’t you be finishing that shopping?”
“Shopping?” Adam nodded slowly. “Oh. Right.”
***
Courtney surveyed the street as she darted toward the set, her hope of finding a specialty food store growing dimmer by the second. Her mind whirred. The only thing she could think of was to call the safe, actress-free office of her BFF back in L.A.
“Sheila Macintosh here.”
Courtney breathed out relief at the familiar greeting. “Thank goodness you’re there.”
“Hey, Court.” Sheila let out a little titter. “Don’t tell me you’re homesick already.”
“Not unless by ‘homesick’ you mean ‘desperately missing the Von’s delivery boy’.” Courtney firmed her resolve. “Sheil, I need you to do me a huge favor.”
“Is it a favor for you or for Angela Bijou, ’cause you know I don’t cater to queen bees.”
“Consider it a favor to your best friend who wants to stay employed. I need you to source some bottled water for me. I’ll give you all my info so you can order it and have it billed to the movie.”
“They don’t have water in Montana?” Sheila quipped. “How do they get the mountains so green?”
“Funny. Of course they have water, just not the right kind.” Courtney stopped walking, not wanting anyone of importance to overhear her plight. “Will you do it?”
“I’m ready to write.” Sheila’s tone warmed. “Just remember, you owe me a dinner at Mr. Chow when you get back.”
“On my salary? Better make it Del Taco.” Courtney rattled off the details of Angela’s demand, hoping this wouldn’t be the first of many. “Tell them I need it ASAP. Hire a private jet if you need to.”
Sheila grunted. “Movie people are weird.”
“You said it.” She started walking again.
“Before you go,” Sheila’s voice grew coy. “You have to tell me. Is Jeffrey Mark Caulfield as hot in a cowboy hat as he is in a pith helmet?”
“I haven’t seen him in costume yet.” Courtney’s mind wandered back to the store she’d left a few minutes before—to that tall, handsome hottie in the dusty blue jeans and well-worn boots. “He’s got nothing on the real cowboys out here, though.”
“Oh really?” Sheila crooned. “Any one in particular?”
“Well…” Courtney’s face flushed. What was she doing? She had far too much to deal with to let herself get distracted by an admittedly attractive guy. Especially one she most likely wouldn’t even run into again. Still, she couldn’t lie, especially to Sheila. “Okay, yes. One that I just met was…movie star handsome. And nice too. Really nice.”
“Uh huh. So they grow ’em handsome out there. Must be in the water.”
Courtney smiled. “Yeah, the mountain spring water.”
“So, you will be coming home when this movie is finished shooting, right? Or will you be changing your name to Mrs. Handsome Cowboy and learning to rope cattle?”
Courtney sneered at the phone. “Oh, you are so very funny. Just get my water ordered and pray I still have my job by the time it gets here.”
“Sure thing. Oh, and that’s not the only thing I’ll be praying for, Mrs. Handsome Cowboy.”
Clicking her cell phone shut, Courtney took a deep breath. Sure that guy seemed really great but this was the last thing she needed. She was here to do a job, not fall for some guy who lived a world away from everything important to her. Letting herself get caught up in thinking about him would just be irresponsible.
Her pace slowed as she neared the set. Why did Angela’s personal drought suddenly not feel quite so urgent? Thinking about the cowboy seemed to have a mysterious calming effect on her. She shook it off. With a major problem to solve, she had too much on her mind to leave her head in the clouds.
First posted January 8, 2011
George Orwell thought he was writing fiction when he created 1984, but it appears that he just got the date wrong. It was very unsettling to read that Obama wants to give the U.S. Commerce Department the authority to create an Internet ID for Americans.
This is allegedly not a government controlled system. I don’t know about you, but it sounds as if that statement is a pile of something you don’t want to step in. Big Brother doesn’t need to be watching my movements on the Internet.
You don’t really think he will leave it at that. A person can’t fly now unless he wants a rude dose of radiation or to be groped by the almighty TSA. Now Big Brother is pushing us towards the equivalent of mental groping.
Update: It’s incredible how much closer we’ve moved towards “1984” in two years. A lot of those very numerous executive orders Big Brother is writing gives him total control over our freedom. And now there’s the exposure of the spying on internet and phone messages. Read more inThe New Yorker.
The Rockin’ Chair
By Steven Manchester
Memories are the ultimate contradiction. They can warm us on our coldest days – or they can freeze a loved one out of our lives forever. The McCarthy family has a trove of warm memories. Of innocent first kisses. Of sumptuous family meals. Of wondrous lessons learned at the foot of a rocking chair. But they also have had their share of icy ones. Of words that can never be unsaid. Of choices that can never be unmade. Of actions that can never be undone.
Following the death of his beloved wife, John McCarthy – Grandpa John – calls his family back home. It is time for them to face the memories they have made, both warm and cold. Only then can they move beyond them and into the future.
A rich portrait of a family at a crossroad, THE ROCKIN’ CHAIR is Steven Manchester’s most heartfelt and emotionally engaging novel to date. If family matters to you, it is a story you must read.
ISLAND BREEZES
Memories – some good, some not so good. Some start with a rocking chair.
Memories can warm us or torment us. They can help you find your soul or rip you apart.
This story has grandparents, parents and three grown children – all with memories and regrets.
The impending death of the grandmother draws the children home. Believe me, you are so going to need tissues when you read this book. I had more than a few tears.
I really like this line from the book. “In the end, all we have is our memories…good or bad…and your attitudes decid3e which.
That sums up this book. Read it to see how this family gets through their memories.
BTW Keep that box of tissues handy. Looks like you’ll need more than one or two.
If you like this book, you need to read Goodnight, Brian. Mr. Manchester has a way of bringing a family into your life and grabbing hold of your heart.
***A special thank you to Steven Manchester for providing a review copy.***
Steven Manchester is the author of The Rockin’ Chair (to be released June 18th), as well as the #1 best seller, Twelve Months (2013 San Francisco Book Festival award winner). He is also the author of A Christmas Wish (Kindle exclusive) and Goodnight, Brian. His work has appeared on NBC’s Today Show, CBS’s The Early Show, CNN’s American Morning and BET’s Nightly News. Recently, three of Steven’s short stories were selected “101 Best” for Chicken Soup for the Soul series. When not spending time with his beautiful wife, Paula, or his four children, this Massachusetts author is promoting his works or writing. Visit: www.StevenManchester.com
First posted December 27, 2010
If you don’t, I’ll never get anything done. I don’t remember why I went there this afternoon. I’ve been all over the place. I can’t remember where I started, but I traveled through some military tattoos, all kinds of Amazing Grace from Lin Yu Chun to Il Divo, Susan Boyle, Julie London, Ella, and now I’m bopping to Bobby Darn.
I’ll share a few of these goodies with you.
I tried to find Unchained Melody by Eric Dodge, but there’s not a video for it on You Tube. You’ll have to buy his CD, Since I Let You Go. It’s the most incredible rendition of this song that I’ve ever heard. He’s a country singer with a marvelous cross over talent.
And then there’s the U.S. poet laureate.
And a true poet laureate, John Masefield.
If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been drawn to video’s tonight with a bit of a sea theme. Once a sea person, always a sea person at heart. Yes, there are still times that I yearn for the sea. Why do you think I live on an island?
“Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children,you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.
Matthew 18:3
© By M.S.Lowndes
Fathers have an awesome task
To show what love is made of
So when their children look at them
They’ll see the heart of God
And grow to want to know God more
To walk in all His ways
To learn from their Father’s wisdom
And be taught how to pray.
© By M.S.Lowndes
Deadly Devotion
By Sandra Orchard
In the first installment in the Port Aster Secrets series, Deadly Devotion weaves a web of intrigue around the sleepy town of Port Aster and the death of a research scientist. While police believe it to be a suicide, evidence mounts that leads Kate Adams to believe it had to be murder. Suspicions lead to danger as Kate struggles to uncover the truth. Full of suspense, Deadly Devotion will keep readers guessing until the very end.
Research scientists Kate Adams and her colleague Daisy are on the brink of a breakthrough for treating depression with herbal medicine when Daisy suddenly dies. Kate knows that if it hadn’t been for Daisy’s mentorship, she wouldn’t have the job she loves or the faith she clings to. So when police rule Daisy’s death a suicide, Kate is determined to unearth the truth.
Former FBI agent Tom Parker finds it hard to adjust to life back in his hometown of Port Aster. Though an old buddy gives him a job as a detective on the local police force, not everyone approves. Tom’s just trying to keep a low profile, so when Kate Adams demands he reopen the investigation of her friend’s death, he knows his job is at stake. In fact, despite his attraction to her, Tom thinks Kate looks a bit suspicious herself.
ISLAND BREEZES
Did Daisy kill herself? Her research partner is adamant that she did not. Well then, who did?
That was what got Kate upset enough to storm into the police station and demand that Daisy’s case be reopened. That didn’t work so Kate decided to do her own investigation and find the murderer.
This is definitely dangerous and finally Detective Tom Parker decides to help her “off the record.” Tom decided to do this even though it could cost him his job. He tries to protect Kate from herself.
Eventually he realizes she’s right, and then he has to protect her from the killer. Both he and Kate are all over the place as far as suspects. It’s hard to pin someone down when you can’t figure out the motive.
As a reader, you, too, will be all over the place trying to decide who the murder is. I was near the end before I figured it out, but still hadn’t figured out the motive.
Sandra Orchard just got added to my list of favorite suspense/mystery authors.
***A special thank you to Donna Hausler for providing a review copy.***
Sandra Orchard is an active member in American Christian Fiction Writers, The Word Guild, Romance Writers of America and a local writing group. She recently participated in the Writers’ Police Academy for hands-on training and simulations at a police training facility. She is the author of Shades of Truth, Critical Condition, which won the 2012 RT Reviewer’s Choice Award for it’s series and Deep Cover, which won the Canadian Christian Writing Award for romance in June 2012 and was recognized as one of the top five novels of the year by Family Fiction magazine. Orchard has also received a Daphne DuMaurier Award for Excellence in Mystery/Suspense in both the inspirational category and for best score overall. She lives in Niagara, Ontario, Canada. To find out more, please visit www.sandraorchard.com.
Revell, a division of Baker Publishing Group, offers practical books that bring the Christian faith to everyday life. They publish resources from a variety of well-known brands and authors, including their partnership with MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) and Hungry Planet
Available June 2013 at your favorite bookseller from Revell, a division of Baker Publishing Group.