My heart is steadfast, O God, my heart is steadfast; I will sing and make melody. Awake, my soul.
Awake, O harp and lyre! I will awake the dawn.
I will give thanks to you, O Lord, among the peoples, and I will sing praises to you among the nations.
For your steadfast love is higher than the heavens, and your faithfulness reaches to the clouds.
Psalm 108:1-6
While returning from my trip to the mainland yesterday, I kept hearing about Obama being awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. At first I thought it was just some kind of hoax, but had to accept that it was indeed true. The one thing most people were in agreement on was the fact that they couldn’t figure out why he was the recipient. Past recipients have included
They all worked to advance peace. Even our peanut farmer, Jimmy Carter, earned his Nobel honorably. Where does Obama fit into this group?
The Nobel Peace Prize was once a prestigious award. The prestige began wearing off when Al Gore, “inventor of the Internet” and creator of both convenient and inconvenient lies came out as a Nobel award winner. I guess he maybe brought peace among the proponents of the global warming theory. Is global warming the reason why our country had snow in June and is going to have record cold temperatures this winter?
One thing to take into consideration is the fact that the nominations for this prize closed after Obama had been in office only two weeks. Who nominated him and why did they think he was going to turn into a peacemaker some day? Some day isn’t what it’s all about, people.
Everyone is wondering what rationale was used. Alfred Nobel’s will stated that the Peace Prize should be awarded “to the person who shall have done the most or the best work for fraternity between nations, for the abolition or reduction of standing armies and for the holding and promotion of peace congresses.”
If you want to find out more about these Nobel Prizes and the previous winners you can start here while we wait for Obama to do something, anything, to earn this once prestigious award.
Consumer Man’s computer doesn’t like me. Don’t laugh! It doesn’t. I’ve been on the mainland since Saturday and I’ve not managed to get more than one decent post up. If you’ve been checking out the island this week, you’ve probably noticed how weird my last post is. And the more I did to try to fix it, the weirder it got. I finally gave up on it until I could get back to the island and my own computer.
The scary fact is I have a “new to me” computer setting right here waiting on me to get my files slurped out onto an external hard drive so that I can get my info transferred over.
Will my new computer hate me or be kind, loving and patient with me? Now I’m not sure how long it’s going to be before I get up the nerve to change over.
My son has always done these kinds of things for me when I get a new computer, but he is currently living 1,000 miles from the island. John, your mother needs you. Maybe it’s time you took a little vacation down here where it’s nice and warm.
Amish Wisdom for Modern Life: Author shares the real-life stories of the Amish,
with insights to find lasting peace in our lives.
Suzanne Woods Fisher
A glad heart makes a cheerful countenance, but by sorrow of heart the spirit is broken.
The mind of him who has understanding seeks knowledge, but the mouths of fools feed on folly.
All the days of the afflicted are evil, but a cheerful heart has a continual feast.
Better is a little with the fear of the Lord than great treasure and trouble with it.
A hot-tempered man stirs up strife, but he who is slow to anger quiets contention.
The way of a sluggard is overgrown with thorns, but the path of the upright is a level highway.
A wise son makes a glad father, but a foolish man despises his mother.
Proverbs 15:13-20
Follow the Potluck Club Ladies into Their Biggest Catering Job
. . . On Reality TV!
Filled with feisty characters, friendship, and hilarity, book 2 in the beloved
The Potluck Catering Club series takes readers along for the ride to New York City
Authors Linda Evans Shepherd and Eva Marie Everson
love dishing up the stories of the six friends featured in their latest series The Potluck Catering Club—much to the delight of readers. “This is the way Christian fiction should be written,” one reader says. “No cardboard Christian cut-outs of sweet angelic women none of us can relate to. These women are real, just the kind of women I find in my own community.”
A Taste of Fame is the latest book in The Potluck Catering Club series and serves up more of what readers have come to love from these feisty characters and the hilarious antics they find themselves in—which takes them this time to the Big Apple for their first taste of fame:
A Taste of Fame by
Linda Evans Shepherd and
Eva Marie Everson
ISBN: 978-0-8007-3209-7
September 2009, $13.99
ISLAND BREEZES
This book is a blast! Can you imagine ending up on a reality show by accident? That’s exactly what happened to the six friends and their Potluck Catering Club. I like the way the authors present the story. Each chapter is narrated by of one of the “potluckers.” It’s a refreshing way to to not only get the entire picture, but also, to see each lady’s take on the events. Each person seems to have something going on in her life that is impacted by the need to run off to New York City for the show. We are also treated to mystery in the midst of the various catering events.
Even though this is not the first in this series of “potluck” books, it is a great stand alone read. Of course, now that I’ve met all these ladies, I want to start at the beginning and work my way through all the books. I want to know a little more about what makes them tick and the founding and growth of the Potluck Catering Club. This book is worth every penny and more. There is also a recipe section at the back of the book. It’s worth as much as the novel, so you are actually purchasing two books for the price of one. I’ve earmarked Evie’s Scalloped Potatoes and Lisa Leann’s Spanish Omelet for my next big cooking session.
Potluck Parties: The Popular Pastime Goes Posh
Dinner parties take a cue from the past,
with revival in potlucks during hard financial times.
PLUS: New cookbook full of recipes perfect for
these friends-and-family get-togethers!
As wallets tighten, friends and family have to get more creative about the way they socialize, seeking to make get-togethers more budget-friendly without sacrificing the fun. That challenge is what has brought about the revival of potlucks to the social scene.
|
The Potluck Club Cookbook by Linda Evans Shepherd ISBN: 978-0-8007-3349-0 |
“Eating in is the new eating out,” says Eva Marie Everson, a potluck enthusiast and co-author of The Potluck Club Cookbook. For instance, Everson and her husband used to meet up with another couple each month over dinner at a different restaurant. “But with the recent economy, we started eating in and dining à la potluck. We get to sit on a screened-in patio and watch the sun set over the lake behind the house. We all agree we should have been doing this all along!”
Potlucks are easy even on strained budgets because no one person carries the full cost of a table-full of food; instead, guests each bring their own favorite dish and together cater the event. This allows guests
to sample new dishes and share favorite recipes from their closest friends.
These potlucks that are popping up in even the classiest of circles barely resemble the potlucks of yesterday. Now, they might carry intriguing themes that the dishes are based around. For instance, a book club’s potluck might feature foods mentioned in the pages of their latest read. Or a birthday celebration for a longtime friend might be a wine-and-cheese potluck showcasing favorite edibles that get better with age. For a close girlfriend who is always known for accenting with yellow, a potluck in her honor might include a savory, golden-hued smorgasbord.
Whatever your affair may look like, Eva Marie Everson and Linda Evans Shepherd are the experts when it comes to hosting and attending these shared meals. Veterans of countless potlucks over the years, the duo has gathered their favorite potluck-ready recipes—from salads to slow-cooker delights—plus their experienced insights about pulling off a potluck into one source: The Potluck Club Cookbook. Shepherd and Evans are also the authors of the popular fiction series The Potluck Club and The Potluck Catering Club—so their penchant for potlucks is obvious.
“Potlucks have been a part of my life since childhood,” explains Everson, whose memories are rife with these culinary celebrations—from her days growing up in the South to her newlywed years to the times toting her young children along to the potluck, too. “The potluck meal isn’t just about sharing good, home-cooked food, but also about connecting with your closest friends and family and creating memories that last a lifetime,” Shepherd adds. “Potlucks must be what love tastes like.”
This cookbook compliments A Taste of Fame. It’s written by the same authors, Linda Evans Shepherd and Eva Marie Everson. (I’m sorry, but this keeps making me think of Eva Marie Saint. I wonder if her mother was a fan). I do get sidetracked now and then, but the recipes in this book are easy enough for a sidetracked person to follow. They are simple and don’t use a bunch of exotic ingredients. I’ve already tried the Turkey Enchilada Casserole. It was wonderful. I had to fight them off at work. Everyone wanted my dinner instead of their own.
I usually do big batch cooking on Monday mornings so that I don’t have to figure out meals when my body and brain are too tired to care. The recipes in this book aren’t big crowd size recipes, but you can make a double batch and freeze some for the days you are tired or in a hurry. Since Consumer Man is still over on the east coast of the mainland, I can make a single recipe and freeze in individual portions.
I have several recipes earmarked for try out today, so it’s off to the kitchen and my own little potluck club of one.
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:
David C. Cook (2009)
Melody Carlson has published more than one hundred books for adults, children, and teens, with many on best-seller lists. Several books have been finalists for, and winners of, various writing awards, including the Gold Medallion and the RITA Award. She and her husband live in the Cascade Mountains in Oregon and have two grown sons.
Visit the author’s website.
Three Weddings and a Bar Mitzvah, by Melody Carlson from David C. Cook on Vimeo.
Product Details:
List Price: $14.99
Format: Paperback
Number of Pages: 320
Vendor: David C. Cook (2009)
ISBN: 1589191080
ISBN-13: 9781589191082
ISLAND BREEZES
This is a fun book. I haven’t finished it yet, but I’m enjoying all the twists in the lives of these four young ladies. Love, romance, joy, drama, anxieties, mothers, in-laws, boyfriends, fiances, exes, conflicts, insecurities, decisions, indecisions, planning and attending ceremonies, babies and pregnancies.
Oh, my. What a merry-go-round ride! I’m loving it and not getting a bit motion sick. But, then again, I’ve not read a Melody Carlson book that I didn’t love. You need to run out and get a copy so that you can finish it along with me. Leave a comment letting me know which character ends up being your favorite.
AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:
“Okay, then, how does the second Saturday in June look?” Anna asked her housemates.
Megan frowned down at her date book spread open on the dining room table. She and Anna had been trying to nail a date for Lelani and Gil’s wedding. Megan had already been the spoiler of the first weekend of June, but she’d already promised her mom that she’d go to a family reunion in Washington. Now it seemed she was about to mess things up again. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but I promised Marcus I’d go to his sister’s wedding. It’s been scheduled for almost a year now, and it’s the second Saturday too. But maybe I can get out of it.”
Lelani just shook her head as she quietly rocked Emma in her arms, pacing back and forth between the living room and dining room. The baby was teething and fussy and overdue for her afternoon nap. Megan wasn’t sure if Lelani’s frustrated expression was a result of wedding planning or her baby’s mood.
“Is it possible you could do both weddings in one day?” Anna asked Megan.
“That might work.” Megan picked up her datebook and followed Lelani into the living room, where she continued to rock Emma.
“Or we could look at the third weekend in June,” Anna called from the dining room.
“Shhh.” Megan held a forefinger over her lips to signal Anna that Emma was finally about to nod off. Megan waited and watched as Emma’s eyes fluttered closed and Lelani gently eased the limp baby down into the playpen set up in a corner of the living room. Lelani pushed a dark lock of hair away from Emma’s forehead, tucked a fuzzy pink blanket over her, then finally stood up straight and sighed.
“Looks like she’s down for the count,” Megan whispered.
Lelani nodded. “Now, where were we with dates?”
“If you still want to go with the second Saturday,” Megan spoke quietly, “Anna just suggested that it might be possible for me to attend two weddings in one day.”
“That’s a lot to ask of you,” Lelani said as they returned to the dining room, where Anna and Kendall were waiting expectantly with the calendar in the middle of the table and opened to June.
Megan shrugged as she pulled out a chair. “It’s your wedding, Lelani. You should have it the way you want it. I just want to help.”
Anna pointed to the second Saturday. “Okay, this is the date in question. Is it doable or not?”
Lelani sat down and sighed. “I’m willing to schedule my wedding so that it’s not a conflict with the other one. I mean, if it can even be done. Mostly I just wanted to wait until I finished spring term.”
“What time is Marcus’s sister’s wedding?” asked Anna.
“I’m not positive, but I think he said it was in the evening.” She reached for her phone.
“And you want a sunset wedding,” Kendall reminded Lelani.
“That’s true.” Anna nodded.
“But I also want Megan to be there,” Lelani pointed out.
“That would be helpful, since she’s your maid of honor,” said Anna.
Megan tried not to bristle at the tone of Anna’s voice. She knew that Anna had been put a little out of sorts by Lelani’s choice–especially considering that Anna was the sister of the groom–but to be fair, Megan was a lot closer to Lelani than Anna was. And at least they were all going to be in the wedding.
“Let me ask Marcus about the time,” Megan said as she pressed his speed-dial number and waited. “Hey, Marcus,” she said when he finally answered. “We’re having a scheduling problem here. Do you know what time Hannah’s wedding is going to be?”
“In the evening, I think,” Marcus said. “Do you need the exact time?”
“No, that’s good enough.” Megan gave Lelani a disappointed look. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“You’re not thinking of bailing on me, are you?” He sounded genuinely worried.
“No, but we’re trying to pin down a time and date for Lelani.”
“It’s just that I really want my family to meet you, Megan. I mean all of my family. And I want you to meet them too.”
“I know, and I plan to go with you.”
“Thanks. So, I’ll see you around six thirty tonight?”
“That’s right.” Megan told him good-bye, then turned to Lelani with a sigh. “I’m sorry,” she told her. “That wedding’s at night too. Maybe I should blow off my family reunion so that you–”
“No.” Anna pointed to the calendar. “I just realized that the first Saturday in June is also my mother’s birthday.”
“So?” Kendall shrugged. “What’s wrong with that?”
Megan laughed. “Think about it, Kendall, how would you like to share your wedding anniversary with your mother-in-law’s birthday?”
Kendall grinned. “Oh, yeah. Maybe not.”
“How about a Sunday wedding?” suggested Megan.
“Sunday?” Lelani’s brow creased slightly as she weighed this.
“Sunday might make it easier to book the location,” Kendall said. “I mean, since most weddings are usually on Saturdays, and June is a pretty busy wedding month.”
“That’s true,” agreed Megan.
“And you gotta admit that this is short notice for planning a wedding,” added Kendall. “Some people say you should start planning your wedding a whole year ahead of time.”
“Marcus’s sister has been planning her wedding for more than a year,” Megan admitted. “Marcus says that Hannah is going to be a candidate for the Bridezillas show if she doesn’t lighten up.”
They all laughed.
“Well, there’s no way Gil and I are going to spend a year planning a wedding.” Lelani shook her head. “That’s fine for some people, but we’re more interested in our marriage than we are in our wedding.”
“I hear you.” Kendall laughed and patted her slightly rounded belly. She was in her fifth month of the pregnancy. They all knew that she and her Maui man, Killiki, were corresponding regularly, but despite Kendall’s high hopes there’d been no proposal.
“I really don’t see why it should take a year to plan a wedding,” Megan admitted. “I think that’s just the wedding industry’s way of lining their pockets.”
“So how much planning time do you have now anyway?” Kendall asked Lelani. “Like three months?”
“Not even.” Lelani flipped the calendar pages back. “It’s barely two now.”
“Which is why we need to nail this date today,” Megan said. “Even though it’s a small wedding–”
“And that remains to be seen,” Anna reminded her. “My mother’s list keeps growing and growing and growing.”
“I still think it might be easier to just elope,” Lelani reminded them. “I told Gil that I wouldn’t have a problem with that at all.”
“Yes, that would be brilliant.” Anna firmly shook her head. “You can just imagine how absolutely thrilled Mom would be about that little idea.”
Lelani smiled. “I actually thought she’d be relieved.”
“That might’ve been true a few months ago. But Mom’s changing.” Anna poked Lelani in the arm. “In fact, I’m starting to feel jealous. I think she likes you better than me now.”
Lelani giggled. “In your dreams, Anna. Your mother just puts up with me so she can have access to Emma.”
They all laughed about that. Everyone knew that Mrs. Mendez was crazy about her soon-to-be granddaughter. Already she’d bought Emma all kinds of clothes and toys and seemed totally intent on spoiling the child rotten.
“Speaking of Emma”–Kendall shook her finger–“Mrs. Mendez is certain that she’s supposed to have her on Monday. But I thought it was my day.”
“I’m not sure,” Lelani admitted. “But I’ll call and find out.”
“And while you’ve got Granny on the line,” continued Kendall, “tell her that I do know how to change diapers properly. One more diaper lecture and I might just tape a Pamper over that big mouth of hers. Sheesh!”
They all laughed again. Since coming home from Maui, Kendall had been complaining about how Mrs. Mendez always seemed to find fault with Kendall’s childcare abilities. In fact, Mrs. Mendez had spent the first week “teaching” Kendall the “proper” way to do almost everything.
To be fair, Megan didn’t blame the older woman. Megan had been a little worried about Kendall too. But to everyone’s surprise, Kendall turned out to be rather maternal. Whether it had to do with her own pregnancy or a hidden talent, Megan couldn’t decide, but Kendall’s skill had been a huge relief.
“Now, back to the wedding date,” said Lelani.
“Yes,” agreed Megan. “What about earlier on Saturday?”
“Oh, no,” Anna said. “I just remembered that I promised Edmond I’d go to his brother’s bar mitzvah on that same day–I think it’s in the morning.”
Lelani groaned.
“Edmond’s brother?” Megan frowned. “I thought he was an only child. And since when is he Jewish?”
“Remember, his mom remarried,” Anna told her. “And Philip Goldstein, her new husband, is Jewish, and he has a son named Ben whose bar mitzvah is that Saturday.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, Lelani.”
“So Saturday morning is kaput,” Megan said.
“And Lelani wanted a sunset wedding anyway,” Anna repeated.
“So why can’t you have a sunset wedding on Sunday?” Kendall suggested.
“That’s an idea.” Megan turned back to Lelani. “What do you think?”
Lelani nodded. “I think that could work.”
“And here’s another idea!” Anna exclaimed. “If the wedding was on Sunday night, you could probably have the reception in the restaurant afterward. I’m guessing it would be late by the time the wedding was over, and Sunday’s not exactly a busy night.”
Lelani looked hopeful. “Do you think your parents would mind?”
“Mind? Are you kidding? That’s what my mother lives for.”
“But we still don’t have a place picked for the wedding,” Megan said.
“I have several outdoor locations in mind. I’ll start checking on them tomorrow.”
“We’ll have to pray that it doesn’t rain.” Megan penned ‘Lelani and Gil’s Wedding’ in her date book, then closed it.
“Should there be a backup plan?” asked Anna. “I’m sure my parents could have the wedding at their house.”
“Or here,” suggested Kendall. “You can use this house if you want.”
Anna frowned. “It’s kind of small, don’t you think?”
“I think it’s sweet of Kendall to offer.” Lelani smiled at Kendall.
“I can imagine a bride coming down those stairs,” Kendall nodded toward the staircase. “I mean, if it was a small wedding.”
“I’ll keep it in mind,” Lelani told her. “And your parents’ house too.”
“It might be tricky getting a church reserved on a Sunday night,” Megan looked at the clock. “And speaking of that, I better get ready. Marcus is picking me up for the evening service in about fifteen minutes.” She turned back to Lelani. “Don’t worry. I’ve got my to-do list and I’ll start checking on some of this stuff tomorrow. My mom will want to help with the flowers.”
“And my aunt wants to make the cake,” Anna reminded them.
“Sounds like you’re in good hands,” Kendall sad a bit wistfully. “I wonder how it would go if I was planning my wedding.”
“You’d be in good hands too,” Lelani assured her.
“Now, let’s start going over that guest list,” Anna said as Megan stood up. “The sooner we get it finished, the less chance my mother will have of adding to it.” Megan was relieved that Anna had offered to handle the invitations. She could have them printed at the publishing company for a fraction of the price that a regular printer would charge, and hopefully she’d get them sent out in the next couple of weeks.
As Megan changed from her weekend sweats into something presentable, she wondered what would happen with Lelani’s parents when it was time for the big event. Although her dad had promised to come and was already committed to paying Lelani’s tuition to finish med school, Lelani’s mom was still giving Lelani the cold shoulder. Make that the ice shoulder. For a woman who lived in the tropics, Mrs. Porter was about as chilly as they come. Still, Lelani had friends to lean on. Maybe that was better than family at times.
“Your prince is here,” Kendall called into Megan’s room.
“Thanks.” Megan was looking for her other loafer and thinking it was time to organize her closet again. “Tell him I’m coming.”
When Megan came out, Marcus was in the dining room, chatting with her housemates like one of the family. He was teasing Anna for having her hair in curlers, then joking with Kendall about whether her Maui man had called her today.
“Not yet,” Kendall told him with a little frown. “But don’t forget the time-zone thing. It’s earlier there.”
“Speaking of time zones,” Lelani said to Marcus. “Did I hear you’re actually thinking about going to Africa?”
Marcus grinned and nodded. “Yeah, Greg Mercer, this guy at our church, is trying to put together a mission trip to Zambia. I might go too.”
“Wow, that’s a long ways away.” Kendall turned to Megan. “How do you feel about that?”
Megan shrugged as she pulled on her denim jacket. “I think it’s cool.”
“Are you coming with us to church tonight, Kendall?” Marcus asked. “Greg is going to show a video about Zambia.”
“Sorry to miss that,” Kendall told him. “But Killiki is supposed to call.”
“Ready to roll?” Megan nodded up to the clock.
He grinned at her. “Yep.” But before they went out, he turned around. “That is, unless anyone else wants to come tonight.”
Lelani and Anna thanked him but said they had plans. Even so, Megan was glad he’d asked. It was nice when Kendall came with them occasionally. And Lelani had come once too. Really, it seemed that God was at work at 86 Bloomberg Place. Things had changed a lot since last fall.
“So are you nervous?” Marcus asked as he drove toward the city.
“Nervous?” Megan frowned. “About church?”
“No. The big interview.”
Megan slapped her forehead. “Wow, I temporarily forgot. We were so obsessed with Lelani’s wedding today, trying to make lists, plan everything, and settle the date … I put the interview totally out of my mind.”
“Hopefully, it won’t be out of your mind by Monday.”
“No, of course not.”
“So … are you nervous?”
Megan considered this. It would be her first interview for a teaching job. And it was a little unsettling. “The truth is, I don’t think I have a chance at the job,” she admitted. “And, yes, I’m nervous. Thanks for reminding me.”
“Sorry. Why don’t you think you’ll get the job?”
“Because I don’t have any actual teaching experience.” She wanted to add duh, but thought it sounded a little juvenile.
“Everyone has to start somewhere.”
“But starting in middle school, just a couple of months before the school year ends? Don’t you think they’ll want someone who knows what they’re doing?”
“Unless they want someone who’s enthusiastic and energetic and smart and creative and who likes kids and had lots of great new ideas and–”
“Wow, any chance you could do the interview in my place?”
“Cross-dress and pretend I’m you?”
She laughed. “Funny.”
“Just have confidence, Megan. Believe in yourself and make them believe too. You’d be great as a middle-school teacher.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Because I remember middle school.”
“And?”
“And most of my teachers were old and dull and boring.”
“That’s sad.”
“And I would’ve loved having someone like you for a teacher.”
“Really?”
He chuckled. “Yeah. If I was thirteen, I’d probably sit right in the front row and think about how hot you were, and then I’d start fantasizing about–”
“Marcus Barrett, you’re pathetic.” Just the same, she laughed.
“What can I say? I’m just a normal, warm-blooded, American kid.”
“Give me a break!” She punched him in the arm.
“Is that your phone?” he asked as he was parking outside of the church.
“Oh, yeah, a good reminder to turn it off.” She pulled it out to see it was Kendall. Megan hoped nothing was wrong. “Hey, Kendall,” she said as Marcus set the parking brake. “What’s up?”
“Guess what?” shrieked Kendall.
“I have no idea what, but it sounds like good news.” She stepped out of the car.
“Killiki just called.”
“That’s nice.”
“And he asked me to marry him!”
Megan raised her eyebrows and looked at Marcus as he came around to meet her. “And you said yes?”
“Of course! Do you think I’m crazy?”
“No. Not at all. Congratulations, Kendall. I mean, I guess that’s what you say.”
“So now we have two weddings to plan.”
Megan blinked. She walked with Marcus toward the church entry. “Oh, yeah, I guess we do.”
“And I’m getting married in June too!”
“That’s great, Kendall. I’m really, really happy for you. And Killiki seems like a great guy.”
“He is! Anyway, we just looked at the calendar again. And we finally figured that I should just get married the same day as Lelani, only I’ll get married in the morning. That way we’ll all be able to go to both weddings.”
“Wow, the same day?”
“Otherwise, you’ll be at your reunion or Marcus’s sister’s wedding. Or Anna will be at the bar mitzvah. Or Lelani and Gil will be on their honeymoon.”
“Oh, that’s right.”
“And I want all of you there!”
“Yes, I suppose that makes sense.”
“It’ll be busy, but fun.”
“Definitely.” Then Megan thanked Kendall for telling her, and they said good-bye. Megan closed her phone and just shook her head. “Wow.”
“Kendall’s getting married?” asked Marcus as he held the church door open for her.
“Yes. Can you believe it?”
“Good for her.”
“And her wedding will be the same weekend as your sister’s and the same day as Lelani’s.”
Marcus held up three fingers and wore a perplexed expression. “Three weddings in one weekend? That’s crazy.”
“Yep.” Megan nodded. “Three weddings and a bar mitzvah.”
“Huh?” Marcus looked confused, but they were in the sanctuary, and Megan knew she’d have to explain later.
©2009 Cook Communications Ministries. Three Weddings and a Bar Mitzvah by Melody Carlson. Used with permission. May not be further reproduced. All rights reserved.
God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change, though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea; though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble with its tumult.
There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy habitation of the Most High. God is in the midst of the city; it shall not be moved; God will help it when the morning dawns. The nations are in an uproar, the kingdoms totter; he utters his voice, the earth melts. The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge.
Come, behold the works of the Lord; see what desolations he has brought on the earth. He makes wars cease to the end of the earth; he breaks the bow, and shatters the spear; he burns the shields with fire. “Be still, and know that I am God! I am exalted among the nations. I am exalted in the earth.” The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge.
Psalm 46
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:
Barbour Books (September 1, 2009)
Visit the author’s website.
Product Details:
List Price: $10.97
Paperback: 304 pages
Publisher: Barbour Books (September 1, 2009)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1602601453
ISBN-13: 978-1602601451
ISLAND BREEZES
This one is certainly a keeper! I thoroughly enjoyed this book and Mary Connealy’s characters. This author has a serious sense of humor. She wrote this novel quite differently from any I’ve read before. All through the book, the main characters of Annie and Elijah are shown saying one thing and thinking another. This made them so much more realistic. You will enjoy reading about the ins and outs of getting these two to and through the Christmas holiday.
It’s warm. It’s funny. It’s frustrating. It’s romantic. It’s mysterious. It’s all the things of life. I would really like to read more about these two, but if there’s no plans for a continuation of this story, I still want to read more Mary Connealy novels.
AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:
“You’ll wear that dress, Songbird.” Claude Leveque grabbed Annette Talbot’s arm, lifted her to her toes, and shoved her backward.
Annie tripped over a chair and cried out as it toppled. The chair scraped her legs and back. Her head hit the wall of the tiny, windowless shack, and stars exploded in her eyes.
Stunned by the pain, she hit the floor, and an animal instinct sent her scrambling away from Claude. But there was nowhere to go in the twelve-by-twelve-foot cabin.
Her head cleared enough to tell her there was no escape, so she fought with will and faith. “Never.” Propping herself up on her elbows, she faced him and shouted her defiance. “I will never go out in public in that dress.”
“You’ll sing what I tell you to sing.” Claude, in his polished suit and tidily trimmed hair, looked every inch civilized—or he had, until tonight. Now he strode toward her, eyes shooting furious fire, his face twisted into soul-deep rot and sin.
“I sing as a mission.” Annie tried to press her back through the unyielding log wall. “I sing hymns. That’s the only thing—”
A huge fist closed over the front of her blouse, and Claude lifted her like a rag doll to eye level, but he didn’t strike.
He would. He’d proved that several times over since he’d come here with his disgusting demands.
She braced herself. She’d die first. Claude might not believe that, but he’d know before long.
“So, you’re willing to die for your beliefs, heh?” Claude’s fist tightened on her blouse, cutting off Annie’s air.
“Yes!” She could barely speak, but he heard. He knew.
“Are you willing to watch someone else die, Songbird? Maybe your precious friend, Elva?” He shook her and her head snapped back. “I can always find another piano player.”
“No!” Annie had to save Elva. Somehow. Of course Elva would be threatened. Annie hadn’t had time to think that far.
Elva would never stand for this. Elva would die for her beliefs, too.
A wicked laugh escaped from Claude’s twisted mouth. “She’s easily replaced. But I’ll never”—he shook her viciously—“find another singer like you.”
How had it come to this? God help me. Protect Elva and me.
“My answer is no! Elva wouldn’t play the piano for me if I wore that.” Her eyes went to the slattern’s dress hanging, vivid red, near the door. “She would refuse to play the piano for those vulgar songs.”
“We’ll see, Songbird.” Claude laughed again.
Annie saw the evil in him, the hunger to hurt. He wasn’t just hurting Annie to get his way. He was enjoying it. Her vision dimmed and blurred as she clawed at his strangling fist.
“I’ll go have a talk with your frail old friend and then we’ll see.” He shoved Annie backward, slamming her against the wall.
She hit so hard her knees buckled. What little air she still had was knocked away.
Claude charged out, shutting the door behind him.
Annie heard the sound of a padlock snicking shut as she slumped sideways.
She became aware of her surroundings with no idea how much time had passed. In the falling darkness, she could barely make out blood dripping down the front of her dress. Tears diluted the blood and she wept.
“Do something, idiot! You can’t just sit here crying.”
Annie proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was indeed an idiot by burying her face in her hands and sobbing her heart out. The tears burned. She swiped at them and flinched from the pain in her blackened eye.
Shuddering, she lifted her battered face from her hands and looked at the dress. It seemed to glow in the dim light, as if the very fires of the devil gave it light. Indecent, vivid red silk with black fringe. No bodice worth mentioning, the front hem cut up nearly to the knees. The garment was horrible and disgusting, and Annie’s shudders deepened. She shouted at the walls of the tiny, solidly locked cabin, “I won’t do it!”
Claude had known before he’d asked that Annie would never wear that sinful dress and sing those bawdy songs. Touching gingerly her throbbing, swollen cheek, Annie pulled her hand away and saw blood. Her lip was split, her nose bleeding. She knew Claude’s fists had been more for his own cruel pleasure than any attempt at coercion.
“Beat me to death if you want,” she yelled at the door. “I will never again perform onstage for you!” She felt strong, righteous. Ready to die for her faith.
Then she thought of Elva. Annie’s elderly accompanist was maybe, right now, being punished because Annie hadn’t fallen in line.
Claude’s cruel threats rang in her ears even with him gone.
For all her utter commitment to refusing the Leveques and singing only her beloved hymns, how could Annie watch Elva be hurt? Could Annie stand on principle while Elva was beaten?
The welts on Annie’s arm, in the perfect shape of Claude Leveque’s viselike hand, along with Annie’s swollen eye and bleeding lip, proved the hateful man knew how to inflict pain. He’d proved he had no compunction in hurting a helpless woman.
Noise outside her prison brought Annie to her feet. He was coming back! Annie was sick to think what the couple would do to the elderly woman who had spent her older years worshipping God with music.
Sick with fear that they’d force Annie to watch Elva being battered, Annie clenched her fists and prayed. God would never agree that Annie should wear that tart’s dress, sing vile, suggestive songs, and flash her legs for drunken men.
But Elva!
Please, Lord, guide me though this dark valley.
A key rattled in the doorway.
Annie braced herself. If she could get past Claude, she would run, find Elva, and get away. Go somewhere, somehow. Throw herself on the mercy of the men in this logging camp—the very ones Claude said would pay to see that dreadful harlot’s gown.
The wooden door of the secluded, one-room shack swung hard and crashed against the wall. Elva fell onto her knees, clutching her chest. “You have to run!” Elva, eyes wild with terror, lifted her head. Annie saw Elva’s face was battered; a cut on her cheek bled freely.
Expecting Claude and Blanche to be right behind the gray-haired woman, Annie rushed forward and dropped to Elva’s side. “Elva, what did they do to you?”
“I heard. . .I heard Claude making plans, awful plans for you. He caught me eavesdropping. He thought he’d knocked me cold, but I lay still and waited until he left. He’d hung the key on a nail, and I stole it and slipped away to set you free.” Elva staggered to her feet, every breath echoed with pain. She stretched out a shaking hand, and Annie saw Elva’s black velvet reticule. The one the sweet pianist, who made Annie’s voice sound as pretty as a meadowlark, carried always. “There’s money. All I’ve saved.” Elva coughed, cutting off her words. She breathed as if it hurt. “T–Take it and go. There’s a wagon. It’s already left, but run, catch it. Ride to town. Enough.” Coughing broke her voice again and Elva’s knees wobbled. She clung tight to Annie. “Enough for one train ticket.”
Annie realized what Elva was saying. “No, I won’t leave you.”
“It’s my heart.” Elva sagged sideways, clutching her chest. Annie couldn’t hold her dead weight, slight though Elva was. They both lowered to the floor. “When Claude landed his first blow, I felt my heart give out. Oh, Annie, the things he threatened for you. The evil, ugly words from a serpent’s mouth. My precious girl. Run. You must run.”
“I won’t leave you. They’ll kill you, Elva.”
“No. My heart. I’ve felt it coming for months and tonight’s the end. They can’t harm me anymore.”
“Elva, don’t talk like that.” Tears wanted to fall, but Annie had no time for such weakness. “You’re all I have!”
“Your father. Go home.”
“He doesn’t want me. You know that.”
Elva’s hand closed over the already bruised place on Annie’s wrist. Elva clearly saw what Annie had already suffered at Claude’s hands. “Go. There’s no time. What they want from you is a fate worse than death.”
Annie gasped. Those words could mean only one thing. She glanced at the indecent dress. A harlot’s dress.
“God is calling me home, my beautiful girl. He’s taking me b–because He knows you’d never leave me. God in heaven is rescuing us both. I’ll go home and so will you. I believe that.”
Annie looked into Elva’s eyes, and even now they clouded over.
“Go. Please. It’s my fault you’re in this place. I thought we’d bring the Lord to these people with your beautiful singing. I convinced you to stay when the Leveques took over. If you stay I will have died for nothing, Sw–Sweet Annie.”
Elva’s grip tightened until Annie nearly cried out in pain. Then as quickly as the spasm had come, it was gone.
And so was Elva. She sank, lifeless, to the floor.
Annie saw the very moment Elva’s spirit left her body—a heartbreaking, beautiful moment, because now Elva was beyond pain.
But Annie wasn’t.
“If you stay I will have died for nothing.”
A loud snap of a twig jerked Annie’s head around. She gazed into the nearby woods surrounding the sequestered shack she’d been locked in. The Leveques were coming.
“What they want from you is a fate worse than death.”
As if God Himself sent lightning to jolt her, Annie clutched Elva’s reticule, leaped to her feet, and ran.
“There’s a wagon. It’s already left, but run, catch it. Ride to town.”
Annie gained the cover of the woods and, without looking back, began moving with painstaking silence.
She heard Claude’s shout of rage when he discovered the cabin door ajar.
Poor Elva. No one to bury her. No one to make her funeral a testimony to her life of faith.
Annie hated herself for running away. It was cowardly. There had to be some way to stay and pay proper respect, see to a decent Christian burial. Every decent part of herself said, “Go back. Face this.”
She kept moving. Elva had insisted on it. Common sense confirmed it. God whispered it in her heart to move, hurry, be silent.
Silence was her only weapon and Annie used it. She’d learned silence in the mountains growing up, slipping up on a deer or an elk. Slipping away from a bear or a cougar.
As much as Annie had loved her mountain home, she’d never learned to hunt. Pa fed the family. But she loved the woods and was skilled in their use.
Heading for the trail to town, she was careful to get close enough to not lose her way but stay off to the side.
Not long after she’d started out, she saw Claude storming down the trail toward town. He’d catch the wagon Elva spoke of long before she did. And, she hoped, insist on searching it. Once Claude assured himself that Annie wasn’t there, she’d have her chance.
Annie felt the bite of the cool night air. She heard an owl hoot in the darkness. The rustle of the leaves covered tiny sounds she might make as she eased along. She knew the trail. She knew the night. She knew the woods.
All of it was filled with treachery.
