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For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.
Then when you call upon me and come and pray to me, I will hear you.
When you search for me, you will find me; if you seek me with all your heart.
Jeremiah 29:11-13
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!
and the book:
Thomas Nelson; Original edition (February 1, 2011)
***Special thanks to Audra Jennings, Senior Media Specialist, The B&B Media Group for sending me a review copy.***
Kristin Billerbeck was born in California to an Italian father and a strong Norwegian/German mother. Her mother tried to teach her to do things right, how to cook, clean, sew, and budget accordingly—all the things a proper girl should know in order to be a contributing member of society. Yet Billerbeck said she “failed miserably,” although her grandmother must still hold some hope since she gave her a cookie gun for her 40th birthday.
Billerbeck has authored more than 30 novels, including the Ashley Stockingdale series and the Spa Girls series. She is a leader in the Chick Lit movement, a Christy Award finalist, and a two-time winner of the American Christian Fiction Writers Book of the Year Award. She has appeared on The Today Show and has been featured in the New York Times. She lives with her family in northern California.
Visit the author’s website.
There are a billion reasons Kate should marry her current boyfriend.
Will she trade them all to be madly in love?
Katie McKenna leads a perfect life. Or so she thinks. She has a fulfilling job, a cute apartment, and a wedding to plan with her soon-to-be fiance, Dexter.
She can think of a billion reasons why she should marry Dexter…but nowhere on that list is love.
And then in walks Luc DeForges, her bold, breathtaking ex-boyfriend. Only now he’s a millionaire. And he wants her to go home to New Orleans to sing for her childhood friend’s wedding. As his date.
But Katie made up her mind about Luc eight years ago, when she fled their hometown after a very public breakup. Yet there’s a magnetism between them she can’t deny.
Katie thought her predictable relationship with Dexter would be the bedrock of a lasting, Christian marriage. But what if there’s more? What if God’s desire for her is a heart full of life? And what if that’s what Luc has offered all along?
Product Details:
List Price: $14.99
Paperback: 320 pages
Publisher: Thomas Nelson; Original edition (February 1, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1595547916
ISBN-13: 978-1595547910
ISLAND BREEZES
Katie McKenna is quite a character. She’s stomping all over Luc DeForges. But of course, he deserves it after publicly humiliating her.
Katie is planning to marry a nice, sensible man when Luc drops back into her life. Now he has tons of money in addition to his drop dead gorgeous looks.
Why can’t he just go away and quit interferring? Instead he’s trying to dance his way back into her heart.
This is the first book I’ve read by Kristin Billerbeck. Now that I’ve learned what I’ve been missing, I’ll have to correct that.
AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:
Katie McKenna had dreamed of this moment at least a thousand times. Luc would walk back into her life filled with remorse. He’d be wearing jeans, a worn T-shirt, and humility. He’d be dripping with humility.
That should have been her first clue that such a scenario had no bearing on reality.
“Katie,” a voice said.
The sound sent a surge of adrenaline through her frame. She’d forgotten the power and the warmth of his baritone. A quick glance around her classroom assured her that she must be imagining things. Everything was in order: the posters of colorful curriculum, the daily schedule of activities printed on the whiteboard, and, of course, the children. All six of them were mentally disabled, most of them on the severe side of the autism spectrum, but three had added handicaps that required sturdy, head-stabilizing wheelchairs. The bulk of the chairs overwhelmed the room and blocked much of the happy yellow walls and part of the large rainbow mural the kids had helped to paint. The room, with its cluttered order, comforted her and reminded her of all she’d accomplished. There was no need to think about the past. That was a waste of time and energy.
Her eyes stopped on her aides, Carrie and Selena. The two women, so boisterous in personality, were usually animated. But at the moment they stood huddled in the corner behind Austin’s wheelchair.
Carrie, the heavyset one in the Ed Hardy T-shirt, motioned at her.
“What?” Katie pulled at her white shirt with the delicate pink flowers embroidered along the hem and surveyed the stains. “I know, I’m a mess. But did you see how wonderfully the kids did on their art projects? It was worth it. Never thought of the oil on the dough staining. Next time I’ll wear an apron.”
Selena and Carrie looked as though there was something more they wanted.
“Maddie, you’re a born artist.” Katie smiled at the little girl sitting behind a mound of colorful clay. Then to the aides: “What is the matter with you two?”
Selena, a slight Latina woman, shook her head and pointed toward the door.
Katie rotated toward the front of the classroom and caught her breath. Luc, so tall and gorgeous, completely out of place in his fine European suit and a wristwatch probably worth more than her annual salary, stood in the doorway. He wore a fedora, his trademark since college, but hardly one he needed to stand out in a crowd.
As she stared across the space between them, suddenly the classroom she took such pride in appeared shabby and soiled. When she inhaled, it reeked of sour milk and baby food. Her muddled brain searched for words.
“Luc?” She blinked several times, as if his film-star good looks might evaporate into the annals of her mind. “What are you doing here?”
“Didn’t you get my brother’s wedding invitation?” he asked coolly, as if they’d only seen each other yesterday.
“I did. I sent my regrets.”
“That’s what I’m doing here. You can’t miss Ryan’s wedding. I thought the problem might be money.”
She watched as his blue eyes came to rest on her stained shirt. Instinctively she crossed her arms in front of her.
“I came to invite you to go back with me next week, on my plane.”
“Ah.” She nodded and waited for something intelligible to come out of her mouth. “It’s not money.”
“Come home with me, Katie.” He reached out his arms, and she moved to the countertop and shuffled some papers together.
If he touches me, I don’t stand a chance. She knew Luc well enough to know if he’d made the trip to her classroom, he didn’t intend to leave without what he came for. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.” She stacked the same papers again.
“Give me one reason.”
She faced him. “I could give you a billion reasons.”
Luc’s chiseled features didn’t wear humility well. The cross-shaped scar beneath his cheekbone added to his severity. If he weren’t so dreaded handsome, he’d make a good spy in a Bond movie. His looks belied his soft Uptown New Orleans upbringing, the kind filled with celebrations and warm family events with backyard tennis and long days in the swimming pool.
He pushed through the swiveled half door that separated them and strode toward her.
“That gate is there for a reason. The classroom is for teachers and students only.”
Luc opened his hand and beckoned to her, and despite herself, she took it. Her heart pounded in her throat, and its roar was so thunderous it blocked her thoughts. He pulled her into a clutch, then pushed her away with all the grace of Astaire. “Will you dance with me?” he asked.
He began to hum a Cole Porter tune clumsily in her ear, and instinctively she followed his lead until everything around them disappeared and they were alone in their personal ballroom. For a moment she dropped her head back and giggled from her stomach; a laugh so genuine and pure, it seemed completely foreign—as if it came from a place within that was no longer a part of her. Then the dance halted suddenly, and his cheek was against hers. She took in the roughness of his face, and the thought flitted through her mind that she could die a happy woman in those arms.
The sound of applause woke her from her reverie.
“You two are amazing!” Carrie said.
The children all murmured their approval, some with screams of delight and others with loud banging.
Luc’s hand clutched her own in the small space between them, and she laughed again.
“Not me,” Luc said. “I have the grace of a bull. It’s Katie. She’s like Ginger Rogers. She makes anybody she dances with look good.” He appealed to the two aides. “Which is why I’m here. She must go to my brother’s wedding with me.”
“I didn’t even know you danced, Katie,” Selena said. “Why don’t you ever come dancing with us on Friday nights?”
“What? Katie dances like a dream. She and my brother were partners onstage in college. They were like a mist, the way they moved together. It’s like her feet don’t touch the ground.”
“That was a long time ago.” She pulled away from him and showed him her shirt. “I’m a mess. I hope I didn’t ruin your suit.”
“It would be worth it,” Luc growled.
“Katie, where’d you learn to dance like that?” Carrie asked.
“Too many old movies, I suppose.” She shrugged.
“You could be on Dancing with the Stars with moves like that.”
“Except I’m not a star or a dancer, but other than that, I guess—” She giggled again. It kept bubbling out of her, and for one blissful moment she remembered what it felt like to be the old Katie McKenna. Not the current version, staid schoolmarm and church soloist in Northern California, but the Katie people in New Orleans knew, the one who danced and sang.
Luc interrupted her thoughts. “She’s being modest. She learned those moves from Ginger and Fred themselves, just by watching them over and over again. This was before YouTube, so she was dedicated.”
Katie shrugged. “I was a weird kid. Only child, you know?” But inside she swelled with pride that Luc remembered her devotion to a craft so woefully out-of-date and useless. “Anyway, I don’t have much use for swing dancing or forties torch songs now. Luc, meet Carrie and Selena. Carrie and Selena, Luc.”
“I don’t have any ‘use’ for salsa dancing,” Selena said. “I do it because it’s part of who I am.”
“Tell her she has to come with me, ladies. My brother is having a 1940s-themed wedding in New Orleans. He’d be crushed if Katie didn’t come, and I’ll look like a hopeless clod without her to dance with.”
Katie watched the two aides. She saw the way Luc’s powerful presence intoxicated them. Were they really naive enough to believe that Luc DeForges could ever appear like a clod, in any circumstance or setting? Luc, with his skilled charm and roguish good looks, made one believe whatever he wanted one to believe. The two women were putty in his hands.
“Katie, you have to go to this wedding!” Selena stepped toward her. “I can’t believe you can dance like that and never told us. You’d let this opportunity slip by? For what?” She looked around the room and frowned. “This place?”
The cacophony of pounding and low groans rose audibly, as if in agreement.
“This may be just a classroom to you, but to me, it’s the hope and future of these kids. I used to dance. I used to sing. It paid my way through college. Now I’m a teacher.”
“You can’t be a teacher and a dancer?” Selena pressed. “It’s like walking and chewing gum. You can do both. The question is, why don’t you?”
“Maybe I should bring more music and dancing into the classroom. Look how the kids are joining in the noise of our voices, not bothered by it. I have to think about ways we could make the most of this.”
But she hadn’t succeeded in changing the subject; everyone’s attention stayed focused on her.
“You should dance for the kids, Katie. You possess all the grace of an artist’s muse. Who knows how you might encourage them?”
Katie laughed. “That’s laying it on a bit thick, Luc, even for you. I do believe if there was a snake in that basket over there, it would be rising to the charmer’s voice at this very minute.”
Luc’s very presence brought her into another time. Maybe it was the fedora or the classic cut of his suit, but it ran deeper than how he looked. He possessed a sense of virility and take-no-prisoners attitude that couldn’t be further from his blue-blood upbringing. He made her, in a word, feel safe . . . but there was nothing safe about Luc and there never had been. She straightened and walked over to her open folder to check her schedule for the day.
Tapping a pencil on the binder, she focused on getting the day back on track. The students were involved in free playtime at the moment. While they were all situated in a circle, they played individually, their own favorite tasks in front of them.
“Carrie, would you get Austin and Maddie ready for lunch?”
“I’ll do it,” Selena said. “And, Katie . . . you really should go to the wedding.”
“I can’t go to the wedding because it’s right in the middle of summer school.”
“You could get a substitute,” Carrie said. “What would you be gone for, a week at most? Jenna could probably fill in. She took the summer off this year.”
“Thanks for the suggestions, ladies,” Katie said through clenched teeth. “But I’ve already told the groom I can’t attend the wedding for professional reasons.”
The women laughed. “I’m sorry, what reasons?” Carrie asked, raising a bedpan to imply that anyone could do Katie’s job.
It was no use. The two women were thoroughly under Luc’s spell, and who could blame them?
“Maybe we should talk privately,” Luc said. He clasped her wrist and led her to the glass doors at the front of the classroom. “It’s beautiful out here. The way you’re nestled in the hills, you’d never know there’s a city nearby.”
She nodded. “That’s Crystal Springs Reservoir on the other side of the freeway. It’s protected property, the drinking water for this entire area, so it’s stayed pristine.”
“I’m not going back to New Orleans without you,” he said.
Apparently the small talk had ended.
“My mother would have a fit if I brought one of the women I’d take to a Hollywood event to a family wedding.”
Katie felt a twinge of jealousy, then a stab of anger for her own weakness. Of course he dated beautiful women. He was a billionaire. A billionaire who looked like Luc DeForges! Granted, he was actually a multimillionaire, but it had been a long-standing joke between the two of them. Did it matter, once you made your first ten million, how much came after that? He may as well be called a gazillionaire. His finances were too foreign for her to contemplate.
“And who you date is my problem, how?”
“If my date tries to swing dance and kicks one of my mother’s friends in the teeth, I’ll be disinherited.”
“So what, would that make you the fifth richest man in the United States, instead of the fourth?”
“Katie, how many times do I have to explain to you I’m nowhere near those kinds of numbers?” He grinned. “Yet.” He touched his finger to her nose lightly. “My fate is much worse than losing status if you don’t come. My mother might set me up to ensure I have a proper date. A chorus line of Southern belles. And I guarantee you at least one will have the proverbial glass slipper and think her idea is so utterly unique, I’ll succumb to the fantasy.”
“Wow! What a terrible life you must lead.” She pulled a Keds slide from her foot and emptied sand out of her shoe. A few grains landed on Luc’s shiny black loafer. “To think, with courtship skills like that, that any woman wouldn’t be swept off her feet—it’s unfathomable.” She patted his arm. “I wish you luck, Luc. I’m sure your mother will have some very nice choices for you, so go enjoy yourself. Perk up, there’re billions
more to be made when you get back.”
“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, Katie.”
e was right, but she didn’t trust herself around him. She’d taken leave of her senses too many times in that weakened state. Since moving to California, she’d made it her goal to live life logically and for the Lord. She hadn’t fallen victim to her emotions since leaving New Orleans, and she’d invested too much to give into them now.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I only meant that I’m sure there are other nice girls willing to go home and pretend for your mother. I’ve already done that, only you forgot to tell me we were pretending. Remember?”
He flinched. “Below the belt.”
A pencil fell from behind her ear, and she stooped to pick it up, careful not to meet his glance as she rose. “I’m sorry, but I’m busy here. Maybe we could catch up another time? I’d like that and won’t be so sidetracked.” She looked across the room toward Austin, an angelic but severely autistic child in a wheelchair. He pounded against his tray. “The kids are getting hungry. It’s lunchtime.” She pointed to the schedule.
Luc scooped a hand under her chin and forced her to look at him. “Where else am I going to find a gorgeous redhead who knows who Glenn Miller is?”
“Don’t, Luc. Don’t charm me. It’s beneath you. Buy one of your bubble-headed blondes a box of dye and send her to iTunes to do research. Problem solved.”
He didn’t let go. “Ryan wants you to sing at the wedding, Katie. He sent me personally to make sure you’d be there and sing ‘Someone to Watch Over Me.’ I’m not a man who quits because something’s difficult.”
“Anyone worth her salt on Bourbon Street can sing that. Excuse me—”
“Katie-bug.”
“Luc, I asked you kindly. Don’t. I’m not one of your sophisticated girls who knows how to play games. I’m not going to the wedding. That part of my life is over.”
“That part of your life? What about that part of you? Where is she?”
She ignored his question. “I cannot be the only woman you know capable of being your date. You’re not familiar with anyone else who isn’t an actress-slash-waitress?” She cupped his hand in her own and allowed herself to experience the surge of energy. “I have to go.” She dropped his hands and pushed back through the half door. “I’m sure you have a meeting to get to. Am I right?”
“It’s true,” he admitted. “I had business in San Francisco today, a merger. We bought a small chain of health food stores to expand the brand. But I was planning the trip to see you anyway and ask you personally.”
“Uh-huh.”
“We’ll be doing specialty outlets in smaller locations where real estate prices are too high for a full grocery outlet. Having the natural concept already in these locations makes my job that much easier.”
“To take over the free world with organics, you mean?”
That made him smile, and she warmed at the sparkle in his eye. When Luc was in his element, there was nothing like it. His excitement was contagious and spread like a classroom virus, infecting those around him with a false sense of security. She inhaled deeply and reminded herself that the man sold inspiration by the pound. His power over her was universal. It did not make her special.
“Name your price,” he said. “I’m here to end this rift between us, whatever it is, and I’ll do the time. Tell me what it is you want.”
“There is no price, Luc. I don’t want anything from you. I’m not going to Ryan’s wedding. My life is here.”
“Day and night . . . night and day,” he crooned and then his voice was beside her ear. “One last swing dance at my brother’s wedding. One last song and I’ll leave you alone. I promise.”
She crossed the room to the sink against the far wall, but she felt him follow. She hated how he could make every nerve in her body come to life, while he seemingly felt nothing in return. She closed her eyes and searched for inner strength. He didn’t want me. Not in a way that mattered. He wanted her when it suited him to have her at his side.
“Even if I were able to get the time off work, Luc, it wouldn’t be right to go to your brother’s wedding as your date. I’m about to get engaged.”
“Engaged?” He stepped away.
She squeezed hand sanitizer onto her hands and rubbed thoroughly.
“I’ll give a call to your fiancé and let him know the benefits.” He pulled a small leather pad of paper from his coat pocket. “I’ll arrange everything. You get a free trip home, I get a Christian date my mother is proud to know, and then your life goes back to normal. Everyone’s happy.” He took off his fedora as though to plead his case in true gentlemanly fashion. “My mother is still very proud to have led you from
your . . .” He choked back a word. “From your previous life and to Jesus.”
The announcement of her engagement seemed to have had little effect on Luc, and Katie felt as if her heart shattered all over again. “My previous life was you. She was proud to lead me away from her son’s life.” She leaned on the countertop, trying to remember why she’d come to the kitchen area.
“You know what I meant.”
“I wasn’t exactly a streetwalker, Luc. I was a late-night bar singer in the Central District, and the only one who ever led my reputation into question was you. So I’m failing to see the mutual benefit here. Your mother. Your date. And I get a free trip to a place I worked my tail off to get out of.”
She struggled with a giant jar of applesauce, which Luc took from her and opened easily. He passed the jar back to her and let his fingers brush hers.
“My mother would be out of her head to see you. And the entire town could see what they lost when they let their prettiest belle go. Come help me remind them. Don’t you want to show them that you’re thriving? That you didn’t curl up and die after that awful night?”
“I really don’t need to prove anything, Luc.” She pulled her apron, with its child-size handprints in primary colors, over her head. “I’m not your fallback, and I really don’t care if people continue to see me that way. They don’t know me.”
“Which you? The one who lives a colorless existence and calls it holy? Or the one who danced on air and inspired an entire theater troupe to rediscover swing and raise money for a new stage?” Luc bent down, took her out at the knees, and hoisted her up over his shoulder.
“What are you doing? Do you think you’re Tarzan? Put me down.” She pounded on his back, and she could hear the chaos he’d created in the classroom. “These kids need structure. What do you think you’re doing? I demand you put me down!”
Angel Sister
By Ann H. Gabhart
It is 1936 and Kate Merritt, the middle child of Victor and Nadine, works hard to keep her family together. Her father slowly slips into alcoholism and his business suffers during the Great Depression. As her mother tries to come to grips with their situation and her sisters seem to remain blissfully oblivious to it, it is Kate who must shoulder the emotional load. Who could imagine that a dirty, abandoned little girl named Lorena Birdsong would be just what the Merritts need?
In this richly textured novel, award-winning author Ann H. Gabhart reveals the power of true love, the freedom of forgiveness, and the strength to persevere through troubled times. Multidimensional characters face real and trenchant problems while maintaining their family bonds, all against the backdrop of a sultry Kentucky summer. Readers will be drawn into the story and find themselves lingering there long after they’ve finished the book.
ISLAND BREEZES
That was definitely a family in need of angels. Too many hearts grew hard and cold.
Fathers unforgiving and stern. A mother grieving the loss of her sweetheart. A man trying to chase away the demons with alcohol.
In the midst of this drops a young child, abandoned by parents who could no longer afford to feed her. How does this adorable little waif fit into their lives?
This is a touching story. I felt compassion towards some of the inhabitants of Rosey Corner and anger towards others. What will you feel?
***Special thanks to Donna Hausler who provided a review copy***
Living just thirty miles from a restored Shaker village in Kentucky, Ann H. Gabhart has walked the same paths that her characters might have walked in generations past. Her thorough research provides a convincing and colorful backdrop for her Shaker novels. Gabhart is the author of several bestselling novels, including The Outsider, The Believer, The Seeker, and Angel Sister.
Available February 2011 at your favorite bookseller from Revell, a division of Baker Publishing Group.
George Washington, also known as the father of the USA. George was born on February 22, 1732. How many of you all know that? Most people think “Yea! It’s Presidents Day and we get a day off.”
His birthday was lumped together with that of Abraham Lincoln in 1971. That made it nice and convenient for everyone. Now we have a three day weekend.
The above picture is not one of the usual ones we think of when we picture George Washington. This one places him in his Continental Army uniform.
Before he was the first president of the United States, he was an American general as well as the Commander in Chief of the colonial armies in the American Revolutionary War.
He then served as President of the 1787 Constitutional Convention prior to serving as president of the US for eight years.
Take time today to consider the beginnings or our republic. Be thankful we had people like George leading the way.
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!
and the book:
A Promise of Forever Love, Book Three in the Second Chance at Love Series
Whitaker House (April 5, 2011)
***Special thanks to Cathy Hickling of Whitaker House for sending me a review copy.***
Vanessa Miller is a best-selling author, playwright, and motivational speaker. She started writing as a child, spending countless hours either reading or writing poetry, short stories, stage plays and novels. Vanessa’s creative endeavors took on new meaning in 1994 when she became a Christian. Since then, her writing has been centered on themes of redemption, often focusing on characters facing multi-dimensional struggles. Readers and critics alike have responded with overwhelming affirmation with her work topping several bestsellers lists and receiving numerous awards including “Best Christian Fiction Mahogany Award” and the “Red Rose Award for Excellence in Christian Fiction.” The first two books in her Second Chance at Love Series, Yesterday’s Promise and A Love for Tomorrow, debuted at #1 on the Black Christian News Network’s Bestsellers List.
Visit the author’s website.
Since her husband’s death two years ago, Yvonne Milner has been serving as sole pastor of the church they pastored together, but she’s embroiled in a battle with the church board who wants to fire her. Just before a pivotal meeting, her husband’s former best friend Thomas Reed, a handsome and world-renowned motivational speaker, steps back into her life. Thomas is a widower and understands the pain she’s going through on many levels. When a different kind of threat targets both the church and her daughter, Yvonne turns to Thomas and long-buried emotions arise between them. Yvonne is hesitant to get involved, not wanting to break her promise to her husband to love him forever
Product Details:
List Price: $9.99
Paperback: 144 pages
Publisher: Whitaker House (April 5, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1603742093
ISBN-13: 978-1603742092
ISLAND BREEZES
I read this entire book before I realized it was part of a series. I guess that tells you it’s a good stand alone read.
Two preachers – one a widow and the other a widower. One comes to the aid of the other as they fight to save their church.
This fight extends to a fight to save their families and their friendship, but who hates Yvonne Milner enough to destroy her, her church, her church family and her children? Will she allow Thomas Reed to help her? She fights against his help even as she has to admit to herself that she needs it.
Will she come through all this on top ar will she let her guilt drag her down?
AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:
On days like this, Yvonne Milner wondered why she even bothered to pray. She had yelled, screamed, begged, and cajoled, yet the doctors still couldn’t make eye contact with her when they came into her husband’s hospital room. There were no more talks of surgery or chemotherapy. They’d told her that nothing more could be done for David. But, as far as Yvonne was concerned, the doctors didn’t know diddly. David Milner was the senior pastor of one of the most notable churches in Detroit. He was the father of two beautiful daughters, and he was her beloved husband. So, she wasn’t just going to throw in the towel and believe the doctors’ doom-and-gloom predictions. She and David had been married for thirty-four years, and he had promised her a fiftieth wedding anniversary celebration. “We’ve got sixteen more years to go, David,” she urged him. “Don’t give up now.”
A vicious cough shook his fragile, cancer-racked body as he attempted to sit up in his hospital bed.
“Don’t, sweetheart. Just lie down.”
“No…I need…to tell you…something.” David labored to get each word out.
It was killing Yvonne to see her husband weak and bedridden like this. He had always been so strong, had always been her hero. She had admired this man, even when they hadn’t seen eye-to-eye about her role in the ministry. Early in their marriage, Yvonne had known that she was destined to preach the gospel. However, David wouldn’t hear of it. They had fought, and Yvonne had prayed for years that God would change her husband’s mind. Finally, David had accepted the fact that his wife had been called by God to be a preacher. Yet, even through those tough years, Yvonne couldn’t have imagined being anywhere else but with the man she loved. “You can say what you need to while lying down, honey. You need your strength to get better.”
David shook his head. “I’m going home, baby.”
“I know that, David. You just need to regain your strength so they will let you out of this hospital.”
He shook his head again and then pointed heavenward. “Home…with Jesus.”
Yvonne’s eyes filled with tears. “Don’t say that, David. You and I have a lot more living to do.”
He patted her hand. “Call Thomas.”
Thomas Reed was David’s best friend. The man traveled the world building churches and ministering to God’s people. He’d recently lost his wife to the same evil disease that was threatening to take David’s life. “Call Thomas right now? Why? What do you want me to tell him?”
“If you need help, call Thomas. He promised me—” A coughing fit cut him off.
Yvonne took the cup from David’s bedside table and filled it with water from the pitcher, then held the glass to his lips for him to drink once the coughing subsided. “Here, baby, drink this.” When he had taken a few sips, she said, “Now, just lie here and rest. Our girls will be here soon, and you need to save your energy for them.” Toya, twenty-nine years old, was their firstborn, a self-assured attorney with political aspirations. Tia was their twenty-six-year-old “baby.” Whereas Toya was analytical and ambitious, Tia’s strength was creativity, yet she was introspective and reserved. She could paint and write poetry from sunup till sundown and be perfectly at peace.
It had been difficult for Yvonne to manage her daughters’ very different personalities while raising them, but David had convinced her to relax and let God work out His perfect plan for each girl’s life. If it hadn’t been for David’s wisdom and prayers, Yvonne was sure that she would have broken Tia’s spirit. She had needed more time than David to understand their daughter’s passion for writing and painting. What was she going to do if he didn’t survive this illness?
No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than Yvonne tried to banish it. But that was also the moment when she noticed that David’s breathing sounded funny. And then she understood why none of the medical professionals who had come into the room today had been able to look her in the eye. They had heard it, too—the death rattle.
“No, baby, no—don’t leave me!” she begged him.
“Remember…Thomas promised…love you.”
Tears were running down Yvonne’s face as she heard her husband’s last words. She put her arms around the man she had loved for a lifetime—and yet not long enough—and whispered, “I love you, too, baby. Always and forever.”
One
Eighteen months later
Yvonne Milner collapsed into her office chair and heaved a sigh. Pastoring Christ-Life Sanctuary by herself was far from easy, and it seemed that her situation was only getting worse. For years, the church had grown and thrived, even reaching megachurch status with more than five thousand members. But since David’s death, two thousand of their “You can count on me” members had left the ministry. The head elder, Ron Thompson, had broken away to start his own ministry, taking another two hundred church members with him. Tithing was down, charity fund expenditures were up, and Yvonne knew that the church’s board of directors blamed it all on her.
Several of the board members had challenged her authority to her face and as good as said that they wouldn’t be having those problems if David were still around or if their senior pastor wasn’t a woman. Yvonne acknowledged that some people could not accept having a female in the highest position of church leadership, but she also knew that not all twenty-two hundred members had left for that reason.
Sighing again, she stood up and stepped over to the bay window to gaze out at the new Family Life Center—or, rather, what was supposed to be the new Family Life Center, the final phase of their latest building project. The Family Life Center had been Yvonne’s vision. After the sanctuary had been expanded to make room for their growing congregation, Yvonne had convinced David that they still needed to do more. She envisioned a brand-new facility that would provide space for recreational activities, especially for the children and young adults, as well as a café and a bookstore. In addition, she intended for one of the rooms to be set up theater-style, with tiered seats and a movie screen, where they could organize movie nights or perform stage plays.
Five years ago, when Yvonne and David had first proposed the building project to the board, they had developed a financial plan based on the church’s finances and projected that they would have more than enough funds to cover each phase of the project. But Yvonne hadn’t foreseen the death of her husband or the annihilation of Detroit’s economy. How could she have known that General Motors and Chrysler would go crying to the government for a bail-out and then lay off thousands upon thousands of workers, many of whom attended church at Christ-Life Sanctuary?
Now Yvonne was stuck staring at a half finished Family Life Center, as it would probably remain. After all, the coffers were empty. She really couldn’t blame the board of directors for asking for her resignation. When her husband was alive, Yvonne stood side by side with him as they built this church from the ground up. She had installed three of their seven board members herself. And she knew that God wasn’t finished with her yet. The work He had begun in her—and in the church through her ministry—was far from over, and she would be dead and buried before anyone took her out of the pulpit permanently. She just needed a plan, needed to pray about knowing the right things to say at the board meeting tomorrow in order to convince the members to give her more time to turn things around.
A knock at her door drew Yvonne’s eyes away from the window. She turned toward the door. “Come in.”
The door opened, and in walked Thomas Reed. Actually, he didn’t walk; he swaggered like a man who had the keys to the kingdom. If she hadn’t known Thomas for almost thirty years, Yvonne would have thought he swaggered so confidently because he was a millionaire several times over. But Thomas had strutted like that even when he had been as poor as a man carrying a “Will work for food” sign.
Thomas had a way about him that caused men and women to stop and stare. He was one of those fine, chocolate, Denzel-Washington-types of brothers, with wavy black hair and heavenly hazel eyes.
David had met Thomas thirty years ago in seminary and had joked about marrying Yvonne to keep her away from pretty boys like Thomas so that he didn’t have to worry about her running off. But David never had reason to worry; he had always been her prince, and she’d never wanted anyone but him.
When Thomas got married, David became less worried about his friend’s captivating charm. The four of them—David and Yvonne, Thomas and Brenda—had settled into their own ministries yet maintained a lasting friendship. David and Yvonne opened Christ-Life Sanctuary a year after David graduated from seminary, and the church had thrived from its inception. Thomas, on the other hand, was forced to close the doors to his church after struggling for five years to make a go of it. He hadn’t let that stop him, though. Thomas became a Christ-centered motivational speaker and took his ministry on the road. He now pulled in fifty thousand dollars per speaking engagement and had written nearly a dozen New York Times best-selling books.
“Thomas!” Yvonne gave him a hug and stepped back to admire his suit. “Look at you, dapper as ever on this hot summer day.”
“You don’t look so bad, yourself,” he said with a grin.
“I can’t believe you came all this way.”
“I wouldn’t miss this board meeting for anything in the world. And besides, I have a promise to make good on.”
Just before David died, he had told Yvonne to call Thomas if ever she needed help. She’d seen Thomas at the funeral, where he had asked if she needed anything. No, she’d said, and for eighteen months, she hadn’t bothered her husband’s best friend for assistance, even though he’d called her from time to time to check in. But today, she was finally calling in a favor. Thomas had been installed as a board member of Christ-Life Sanctuary about ten years ago but rarely showed up for meetings. The board had always been in accord with David, so he’d never needed to rely on his friend for a tie-breaking vote.
Yvonne had no such luck, and so she’d asked for Thomas’s help on this vote. Yet she hadn’t expected him to make an appearance—not when he could have simply phoned in with his vote.
“Please, sit down,” Yvonne said, gesturing to the couch. “Before we talk about church business, I want to know how you’ve been doing.” It had been months since they’d caught up, and she was eager to hear about his speaking ministry and his family.
Thomas unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat down on the couch next to Yvonne. “So, what do you want to know?”
“For starters, you haven’t been traveling as much lately. Has the world received all the motivation it needs?”
Thomas laughed. “I’m still getting more speaking engagements than I can accept, but I guess I’ve kind of lost my wanderlust.”
Yvonne knew that for years, Brenda had asked Thomas to spend less time on the road and more time at home. It seemed strange that now, more than two years after Brenda’s death, he was finally willing to limit his travels. “What brought this on?” she asked.
“Since Brenda died, I’ve spent a lot of time putting things into perspective. I want to spend some time reconnecting with my son, which is going to be hard since he has his own career now.”
Yvonne understood exactly where Thomas was coming from. She and David had spent many years on the preaching circuit, and then, one day, they looked up and saw that Toya and Tia were grown. She wished she could take credit for the woman Toya had become, and she definitely wished that she had spent more time helping Tia mature. If life didn’t turn out right for Tia, Yvonne knew she’d be tempted to blame herself. “I should have spent more time with my girls as they were growing up, too.” She slapped her hand against her thigh as she sat up a bit straighter. “But, hey, I figure I’ll get a second chance when they give me some grandchildren.”
“Speak for yourself, Granny,” Thomas said, nudging her arm. “I’m not trying to become a poppa for at least another five years. We didn’t have Jarrod until I was thirty, so I figure he can at least return the favor and not have his first kid until he’s at least thirty, maybe even thirty-five.”
Yvonne chuckled, then laughed outright, so hard that she doubled over. When she finally regained composure, she sat up again and wiped the tears from her eyes. “Okay, maybe I don’t want to be a granny so soon, either.”
“You certainly don’t look like any granny I know. I mean, look at you. You’re fifty-two, but you don’t look a day over forty.”
Yvonne had been told that her looks were what Olay would want to advertise its facial products. Fifty was definitely the new forty where she was concerned. With her long, coal-black hair, light skin, and eyes that sparkled and danced, she could have passed for a relative of Lena Horne. “We’ve known each other entirely too long. There’s no way you should know my real age.”
Thomas lifted his hands in surrender. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take your secrets to the grave with me.”
Yvonne felt her droll mood depart. “I don’t want to hear anything about you going to your grave.”
Thomas put an arm around Yvonne’s shoulder and gave her a squeeze. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”
With his arm still wrapped around her, Yvonne took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She had seen two deaths too many in the past two years, and she didn’t know if she could make it through funeral number three so soon. With David and Brenda gone, Yvonne felt that she should have fulfilled her quota of homegoings for a lifetime. “Don’t say stuff like that. I don’t consider it funny.”
“Again, I’m sorry,” Thomas said as he stood up. “Are you ready for the meeting tomorrow morning?”
Yvonne shook her head and leaned back in the couch. “I’ve been in ministry for thirty years, copastored Christ-Life for twenty, and now some board that my husband and I formed wants to vote me out. I don’t know how to get ready for something like that.”
“But I’m here to cast my vote in favor of you staying senior pastor of Christ-Life,” Thomas reminded her. “And I believe several others will vote in your favor, also.”
Yvonne pushed herself to her feet and planted a kiss on Thomas’s cheek. “God love you for what you’re doing, Thomas. But I don’t know how much good it’s going to do. If Deacon Brown has his way, I might need to take on a few of those speaking engagements you’ve cancelled.”
“Don’t worry,” Thomas said. “This meeting is in the Lord’s hands. He knows that you’re meant to pastor this church, and I plan to do everything in my power to make the other board members realize that.”
Let mutual love continue. Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.
Remember those who are in prison, as though you were in prison with them; those who are being tortured, as though you yourselves were being tortured.
Let marriage be held in honor by all, and let the marriage bed be kept undefiled; for God will judge fornicators and adulterers.
Keep your lives free from the love of money, and be content with what you have; for he has said, “I will never leave you or forsake you.”
Hebrews 13:1-5
By virtue of her profession as a midwife, Tabitha Eckles is the keeper of many secrets. Dominick Cherrett is a man with his own secret to keep: namely, why he, a British aristocrat, is on American soil working as an indentured servant.
In a time when relations between America and England rest on the edge of a knife, Tabitha and Dominick cross paths, leading them on a journey of intrigue, threats, public disgrace, and . . . love. But can Tabitha trust Dominick? Finding true love seems impossible in a world set against them.
With stirring writing that draws you directly into the story, Lady in the Mist takes you on the thrilling ride of love’s discovery.
ISLAND BREEZES
Midwifery, mystery and mist coming in off the sea. This book is just the thing for a mystery loving nurse who spent ten years at sea.
Midwife Tabitha and a British indentured servant can’t seem to keep away from each other. They also can’t seem to trust the other either. Could that be because they both have plans to manipulate the other ?
And the secrets they each harbor are making life a lot more difficult for them. Will they be able to begin to trust and work together? 1809 isn’t the best of times for a Brit and American to work together.
Oh, yes. It’s a good one.
***Special thanks to Donna Hausler for providing a review copy***
The role of midwives in history began to fascinate Laurie Alice Eakes in graduate school and she knew that someday she wanted to write novels with midwife heroines. Ten years later, after several published novels and a National Readers Choice Award for Best Regency, the midwives idea returned, and Lady in the Mist was born. Laurie Alice has a masters degree in creative writing and now writes full time from her home in Texas, where she lives with her husband and sundry dogs and cats.
Available February 2011 at your favorite bookseller from Revell, a division of Baker Publishing Group.
Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude.
It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth.
It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
1 Corinthians 13:4-7
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!
and the book:
WestBow Press A Division of Thomas Nelson (December 7, 2010)
***Special thanks to Brandy Bruce for sending me a review copy.***
Brandy Bruce holds a bachelor of arts degree from Liberty University. She’s been a nonfiction developmental book editor for more than six years. Brandy lives in Colorado with her husband, Jeff, and her daughter, Ashtyn.
Visit the author’s website.
Kasey Addison is a twenty-something marketing consultant whose life has just been savagely thrown into disaster status. Following a bad breakup and an unfulfilling career, Kasey feels lost in her own life. With the help of her best friend, and with a rekindled relationship with the Lover of her soul, she embarks on an adventure to rediscover life, faith, and love.
Product Details:
List Price: $19.95
Paperback: 256 pages
Publisher: WestBow Press A Division of Thomas Nelson (December 7, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1449707017
ISBN-13: 978-1449707019
ISLAND BREEZES
Dumped after eight years and sixty-four days. What a scumbag! You’d have thought that he could have figured out that it “just wasn’t working” for him before that. How do you get past something like that?
On top of it all, her career just wasn’t all that either. Man, what a mess. Best friend, Amanda, to the rescue. Kasey ends up on a whirlwind jaunt to London. While there, Kasey ends up meeting a hunk and doing the tourist thing with her former college roommate and this dude.
But like all good vacations, they end and one has to jump back into real life. This finds Kasey bumped up to the marketing team for a cosmetics company. Part of Kasey’s job is to find out what love looks like. Excuse me, she’s just been dumped.
Jump in and see just how she figures this out.
AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:
At least that’s what I told myself about fifty-two times from the moment he said the words “This just isn’t working for me” until my car was started and my shaking hands were holding the steering wheel. I wasn’t going to marry him. Not in a million lifetimes would I consider marrying him.
My shock turned into devastation, which soon turned into anger as I ransacked my apartment and tossed every piece of Riley Shepard memorabilia I could find into a large brown box.
Riley Shepard. Boyfriend of eight years and sixty-four days. Dirty dog deserving death.
Well, I should possibly have said, dirty dog deserving death who up until recently was in disguise. Nah, too much work. Dog summarized my feelings pretty well, and even that was being generous.
And so, here I found myself: Kasey Addison, a normally very nice, Christian, twenty-seven-year-old marketing consultant for Jinkson’s Advertising Firm in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, whose life had just been savagely thrown into disaster status. I tried not to think about the fact that if this breakup remained permanent, the last eight years of my life had been worthless.
How did I get here? Was it possible for me to be shocked by a cruel announcement telling me that I was no longer loved? Weren’t there warning signs? Answers: I don’t know. Yes. No.
The box of memorabilia sat by the door, a constant reminder of the end of my life. I refused to call Riley. If he wanted his things, he’d have to make the effort to come get them.
* * *
One week later, I caved and gave into the foolish desire to call him since he had made no attempt to contact me. I thought perhaps the sound of my voice would bring him back to reality. That was when I realized the unfortunate truth: Riley was fine. He didn’t miss me. He was happy. He spoke to me as though I were a dear, old friend who had been keeping some of his belongings for him. He even told me that my friendship was important to him. That was the moment I yelled unintelligibly (think Tasmanian devil) before hanging up the phone and sinking into depression.
For three weeks I avoided all calls from my parents and my friends from work and church. I managed to go to work every day and come home and that was it. I’d even started living off frozen pizza, Chinese take-out, and my faithful friends Ben and Jerry.
Everything changed when Amanda called. Amanda Scott. Best friend since freshman year of college. British chick who went to Penn State as an exchange student. My lifesaver.
The phone rang twelve times before I considered answering it. My voicemail would kick on after every four rings. Amanda would hang up and text me. She did this three times, and I knew it wouldn’t stop until she reached me.
I set aside my pint of Cherry Garcia and reached for the cordless (which was sitting next to me on the sofa).
“I’m here.”
Amanda’s exasperated sigh was so loud that I could practically feel her breath in my ear.
“Of course you’re there. Where else would you be? Getting on with your life? I know you too well to assume that. Which is why I’m calling.”
I noticed the scattered popcorn around the living room floor. Why couldn’t I at least lose weight as a result of my broken heart? I’d known girls who couldn’t eat after a breakup. Not me. I’d already cleaned out the first and second shelves of the pantry.
“Why are you calling again?”
Luckily, I knew Amanda to be the type of sarcastic friend who was not offended easily—not to mention controlling, sweet when she wanted to be, and a little demanding. She was the kind of girl who left London to be an exchange student only to annoy her parents. I was very aware of the fact that other people’s feelings were rarely her priority.
“I’m calling to pull you out of depression and push you back among the land of the living. I bought you a birthday present.”
I picked up a piece of popcorn from the floor and ate it, hoping it would poison me.
“My birthday was two months ago, and you already sent me that skirt that I’ll never wear.”
“You haven’t worn it? Forget I said that. You will wear it, Kasey. With your pale skin, the color will look great on you.”
Demanding. More than a little.
“Thanks for that reminder that I basically look like mozzarella string cheese,” I retorted.
Amanda chuckled. “String cheese doesn’t have wavy, strawberry-blond hair.”
“Frizzy, you mean,” I interrupted.
“I was being nice,” Amanda said bluntly. “Back to the present situation. I bought you a present. How much holiday time do you have?”
“Not much. I think Annie hates me.” Annie was my boss who thought she was prettier than she really was and treated me worse than her pet poodle.
“Who cares about Annie? How much time off do you have? Concentrate, Kasey! Have you been drinking?”
“No,” I answered, thinking that it didn’t sound like a bad idea. Amanda’s tone softened just a tad.
“Listen, I know you’ve been through a lot. I wish I were there so I could go directly to Riley’s apartment and tell him what I think of him—and maybe slash his tires. But honestly, Kas, it’s time to move forward, and I’m here to help you. I bought you a ticket to come visit me. We’re going to have a great time, and you are going to realize that you deserve better than Riley.”
My tears vanished. Suddenly I was quite coherent and pretty sure I had just heard Amanda tell me that she had bought me a plane ticket to London.
“Amanda, what have you done? How am I supposed to pay you back for this? I can’t take a vacation in the middle of October. The holidays will be here soon.”
“What does that matter? Holidays will only make you more depressed. What you need is some girl time with me.”
I promised to think it over and later came to the conclusion that it made sense to me. Riley and I usually spent the holidays together, jumping back and forth from his parents’ house to my parents’ house. Maybe a trip to England would help boost my re-entrance into single life. Maybe I would meet a gorgeous, Hugh Grant-type of guy.
I knew it was unlikely. My chances of attracting an amazing Brit were slim to none, especially since I was obviously repulsive to normal, sensible guys like Riley.
I wished I were twenty-two again. Why couldn’t Riley have broken up with me when I was twenty-two and still valuable to the opposite sex? Did he know nothing of the predicament of aging women? Amanda was absolutely right. I should travel. Increase knowledge and gain experience. I’d never been to England. My only European jaunt had been a family vacation to Italy with my parents when I was in sixth grade. Maybe some adventure was exactly what I needed. (Plus, there was always the hope that Riley might come to his senses and start to miss me.)
* * *
Somehow Amanda always managed to talk me into things, telling me later that I wouldn’t have gone along if I hadn’t really wanted to. Usually I believed her. But taking my precious week of vacation the month before Thanksgiving felt strange. Annie had given me that look. The one that meant, Are you ever going to be a normal person? But she’d signed the vacation form and I’d started packing my bags.
Amanda had bought an open ticket so I could leave when I wanted to. She must have been feeling kind. It was unlike her to leave decisions up to me. But I’d made my decision. I was going to England. I was taking this trip for myself, and I wasn’t going to mourn Riley the entire time. In two weeks, my new life was beginning.
Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power. Put on the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil.
For our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.
Therefore take up the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to withstand on that evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm.
Stand therefore, and fasten the belt of truth around your waist, and put on the breastplate of righteousness. As shoes for your feet, put on whatever will make you ready to proclaim the gospel of peace.
With all of these, take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one.
Take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.
Pray in the Spirit at all times in every prayer and supplication. To that end keep alert and always persevere in supplication for all the saints.
Ephesians 6:10-18
