Showing posts with label Christian romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christian romance. Show all posts

Monday, January 10, 2011

Review of THE MASTER'S WALL by Sandi Rog


A sprawling, coming of age story set vividly in Ancient Rome, and based on the lives of two young people who must
grapple with grave injustice and social constraints of the Roman Empire. The sub-plot is how faith can survive--and even thrive--under
the adverse circumstances the characters must endure.

Enjoyable and well-drawn major characters, but what they endure on their journey through the book is rather harrowing. Nevertheless, I found this book interesting and well-written and I loved how the plot thickened towards the end. A great twist and climactic ending--along with a nice (if belated) dose of romance makes this book the sort you close with a contented sigh.

The Master's Wall
Sandi Rog
DeWard Publishing
Available from Amazon.com, and other booksellers

Friday, April 2, 2010

A Prisoner of Versailles


A Prisoner of Versailles is the second book in the "Darkness to Light" Series by Golden Keyes Parsons, from Thomas Nelson Publishers.

I was pleasantly surprised with Prisoner. Although I enjoyed the first book (In the Shadow of the Sun King), this book was even better. The story was fast-moving, the heroine was more sympathetic, and there were lots of "King Louis" scenes, which to me make up some of this author's best writing. There was more of a romance, which is always enjoyable, and a bit more character-development of the key players.

I have to admit that I'd enjoy more authentic-sounding dialogue, and costume description of the ladies, including the hair styles; not in every word or sentence but a bit more to keep me in the time period. But anyone who enjoys a good historical setting with lots of action (derring-do, musketeers, royal courtiers!) will want to read this book. I was happy to return to it whenever I got the chance, and it has a satisfying ending--along with (happily) the promise of another sequel! I definitely look forward to it.

This book gets five stars, and the heroine is a "she's got character" lady for sure. Thanks to Thomas Nelson for providing me with a review copy.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

The Raven Saint

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. Enjoy your free peek into the book!







Today's Wild Card author is:





and the book:



The Raven Saint (Charles Towne Belles)

Barbour Books (January 1, 2010)

***Special thanks to MaryLu Tyndall for sending me a review copy.***



ABOUT THE AUTHOR:




M.L. Tyndall, a Christy Award Finalist, and best-selling author of the Legacy of the King’s Pirates series is known for her adventurous historical romances filled with deep spiritual themes. She holds a degree in Math and worked as a software engineer for fifteen years before testing the waters as a writer. MaryLu currently writes full time and makes her home on the California coast with her husband, six kids, and four cats. Her passion is to write page-turning, romantic adventures that not only entertain but expose Christians to their full potential in Christ.



Visit the author's website.

Visit the author's blog.







Product Details:



List Price: $10.97

Paperback: 320 pages

Publisher: Barbour Books (January 1, 2010)

Language: English

ISBN-10: 1602601585

ISBN-13: 978-1602601581



AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:







Outside Charles Towne, Carolina, October, 1718



Chapter 1





Black, menacing clouds snarled a warning from the Carolina skies.



Clutching her skirts, Grace Westcott trudged down the muddy path. A shard of white light forked across the dark vault, and she glanced up as thunder rumbled in the distance.



“I hope the rain doesn’t catch us, miss.” Alice’s shaky voice tumbled over Grace from behind.



“Never fear, Alice, we are almost there.” Grace pushed aside a leafy branch that encroached upon the trail. As the wind picked up and raindrops began to rap on the leaves above them, the wall of greenery arching overhead provided a shelter that brought an odd comfort to Grace.



“Look, miss. This plant. Isn’t it bloodroot?” Alice squeaked. “To heal afflictions of the skin?”



Grace huffed. Her legs ached from the mile-long journey from Charles Towne. She could hear the rush of the Ashley River in the distance. They were close to the Roberts’ cabin, to poor little Thomas, sick with a fever and in desperate need of the medicines they brought.



Whirling around, Grace examined the leaf in her maid’s hands. “Nay. ’Tis not bloodroot, as you well know.” She searched Alice’s eyes but the maid kept her gaze lowered. “Whatever is the matter with you today?”



The maid cast a quick glance over her shoulder and shrugged. “I am only trying to help, miss.”



“You can help by hurrying along. Thomas may be failing as we speak.” Grabbing her skirts, Grace turned and forged ahead. A drop of rain splattered on her forehead, and she swiped it away.



“But the rain, miss. Shouldn’t we return home and don some proper attire?”



“Mercy me, Alice. We are nearly there. A bit of rain will not harm us. We’ve been in far more dangerous situations.” Grace hoisted the sack stuffed with herbs, fresh fruit, and rice farther up her aching shoulder. “Besides we are going about God’s work. He will take care of us.”



Grace heard Alice’s shoes squish in the mud “Indeed, miss.”.



Her maid’s voice quivered—a quiver that set Grace’s nerves on edge, along with the dark tempest brewing above them. Something was bothering the woman, Grace couldn’t guess what.



Another flash lit up the sky. Releasing her skirts to the sticky mud, Grace pushed aside a tangled vine that seemed to be joining forces with Alice in attempting to keep her from continuing. Musky air, heavy with moisture and laden with scents of earth and life, filled her nostrils. Thunder bellowed, closer this time, and raindrops tapped upon the canopy of leaves overhead. Plowing ahead, Grace ignored the twinge of guilt at her most recent expedition. One of many expeditions she’d been strictly forbidden to embark upon—both by her father, before he set sail for Spain, and more recently, her sister Faith and Faith’s new husband, Dajon. But Grace could not allow anyone or anything to stop her from doing what God had commissioned her to do: feed the poor, tend to the sick, and spread the good news of His Gospel.



She glanced up at the dark clouds swirling like some vile witch’s brew. Perhaps she should have left a note informing Faith of her whereabouts. No matter. She would drop off the food and herbs, attend to Thomas, and be home before sunset.



Grace emerged from the green fortress into a clearing. Thunder bellowed, and she shivered as a chill struck her. In the distance, the wide Ashley River tumbled along its course. A cabin perched by the water’s edge, smoke curling from its chimney. Squaring her shoulders, she took a deep breath and quickened her pace. “Here at last. And, as you can see, Alice, all is well.”



A nervous giggle sounded from behind her.



Hoisting the sack higher up on her shoulders, Grace clutched her skirts and climbed the steps of the cabin, but before she could knock on the door, it swung open. Mr. Roberts, a burly red-faced man with unruly dark hair, stared curiously at her for a moment then cocked his head and smiled. “Miss Grace. A grand pleasure to see you.” His glance took in Alice standing on the steps behind Grace. His forehead wrinkled. “What brings you this far from home on such a rainy day? Helen, Miss Grace has come for a visit,” he yelled over his shoulder. The scent of smoke and some sort of meaty stew wafted over Grace.



“Why, we’ve come to help Thomas of course.” Lightning flashed, casting a momentary grayish shroud over Mr. Roberts’s normally ruddy face.



“Thomas needs help?” He scratched his thick, dark mane.



Alice’s boots thudded on the steps, and Grace turned to see her maid inching away from the cabin, her chin lowered.



Shaking her head, Grace faced Mr. Roberts. “Yes, you sent Alfred yesterday to inform us of Thomas’s fever and ask for my help, did you not?” The man looked puzzled. Grace slid the sack from her shoulder and set it down on the planks of the porch. “I’ve brought elder root and dogwood bark for his fever and some fresh fruit and rice for you and your family.”



Mrs. Roberts appeared in the doorway, her infant daughter cradled in her arms. “Grace, what a wonderful surprise. Henry, don’t just stand there. Invite her in out of the rain.”



“Thomas isn’t sick.” Mr. Roberts’ nose wrinkled. “And Alfred was here with us all day yesterday.”



Grace swerved about to question Alice, but the girl was nowhere in sight. Descending the stairs, she dashed into the clearing, her heart in her throat as she scanned the foliage for any sign of her maid.



A swoosh of leaves and stomp of boots reached her ears, then a band of five men materialized from the foliage. Armed with cutlasses and pistols, they stormed toward Grace. She tried to move her feet, but the thick mud clung to them like shackles. Mr. Roberts cursed and ushered his wife inside. The baby began to howl.



A tall, sinewy man halted before her. A burst of wind struck him, fluttering the green feather atop his cocked hat and the tips of the black hair grazing his shoulders. He shifted his jaw, peppered with black stubble, and gazed at her with eyes the color of the dark clouds churning above them. A slow smile crept across his lips, lifting his thin, rakish mustache. “Mademoiselle Grace Westcott, I presume.” His thick French accent turned her blood to ice.



Grace met his gaze squarely. “I am, sir.”



With a snap of his fingers, two of his men flanked her. “You will come with us.”



“I will not.” The men wrenched her arms behind her back. Pain shot across her shoulders.



The snap of a rifle sounded, drawing the man’s attention to Mr. Roberts pointing his musket in their direction. “Leave her be.”



A flicker of relief eased over Grace, quickly fading when she examined the man before her. Instead of fear, amusement sparked in his eyes. The men on either side of Grace chuckled as if Mr. Roberts had told a joke.



“Quel homme galant, but I fear I cannot do that, monsieur.” The leader crossed his arms over his gray waistcoat and scraped a finger along his lean chin. “With a bit of fortune and a good aim, you may shoot one of us. Mais that would leave you and your family completely at our mercy. Comprenez-vous?”



Mr. Roberts stared at him for a long moment, obviously measuring the man.



“Toss your weapon to the ground, monsieur and go into your house. If you come out, we will shoot you. If you fire another weapon at us, we will kill your family.



A short, barrel-chested man beside the leader drew his pistol and leveled it at Mr. Roberts. The sneer on his face suggested he would love nothing more than to shoot the man where he stood.



The musket quivered in Mr. Roberts’s hands as he perused the band of ruffians, but still he did not relent. Grace shook her head, sending her friend a silent appeal. She would not allow him to put his family in jeopardy for her.



Mr. Roberts swallowed, threw his weapon into the mud, and gave her an apologetic look before slipping inside the cabin and closing the door with an ominous thud that echoed Grace’s fate.



She faced the leader. Thunder roared across the clearing. “What have you done with Alice?”



“Alice? Hmm.” His eyes lit up. “Votre servante? I merely paid her well for leading you to us.” He grinned.



The skies opened and released a torrent of rain upon Grace as if God Himself shed the tears that now burned behind her eyes. How could Alice have done such a thing? She had been Grace’s personal maid for the past five years—had traveled with her in the crossing from Portsmouth to Charles Towne.



The rain bounced off the cocked hat and the broad shoulders of the man before her. Drops streamed down Grace’s face, her neck, soaked into her gown, and befogged the scene before her. If only the fresh water from heaven could wash away these devilish creatures like holy water sprinkled upon evil.



The black-haired man turned and marched away as though her desperate wish had reached God’s ears. But then his two minions wrenched her arms again and dragged her behind him. Panic seized her. This couldn’t be happening! She dug her heels into the mud but her captors merely lifted her from the ground. Pain scorched across her arms and neck.



“Please, sir. Please. What do you want with me?”



But the only reply came from the rain pounding on the leaves and the thunder rumbling across the sky.



They plunged back into the thick forest. Grace struggled against the men’s meaty grips. Even if she did manage to break free from them, tree trunks rose like prison bars on either side of her holding her captive within the dense thicket. They trudged down the path for what seemed an eternity. Each step dug the knife of fear deeper into Grace’s heart. Silently, she appealed to God for her salvation, begging to hear His comforting voice, but her petitions were met with the same silence her captors afforded her. Finally, they emerged onto a secluded shore, and the men shoved her onto the thwart of a small boat then launched the craft into the rushing river. In the distance Grace saw a two-masted brig swaying with the rolling tide.



Lord, where are You? She clasped her hands together and tried to catch her breath.



The black-haired man locked a smoldering gaze upon her. He did not look away as propriety demanded but perused her with alarming audacity. Rain streamed off his hat onto his black breeches, and a smirk creased one corner of his mouth. Averting her gaze to the agitated water, she considered leaping overboard. She couldn’t swim. At least not well enough to fight the strong Ashley current. Besides, surely God would rescue her from these brigands. He was simply testing her faith by waiting until the last minute when things were at their worst. Lifting her chin, she cast a defiant look upon her captor, but it only caused his smirk to widen.



Within minutes, they reached the ship and thudded against its hull. Shouts pitched upon them from above as faces popped over the bulwarks to peer down at her. Grace glanced about for the rescuer God should have sent by now. The leader pulled her to her feet, and before she could make a move, he hoisted her over his shoulder like a sack of grain and climbed the rope ladder without effort.



Grace could no longer feel the fear or even the damp chill. Numbness gripped her, born of shock at her predicament. Blood rushed to her head, and she closed her eyes, breathing in the musky scent of the man’s damp wool waistcoat and praying for the nightmare to end.



Once aboard, he carried her across deck as he issued a string of orders in French, sending his crew scrambling in every direction.



“Welcome back, Captain,” a deep voice shouted, then a shock of brown hair appeared in Grace’s vision. “I see you found her.”



“Oui, bien sûr.” His tone carried the haughtiness that excluded any other possibility as he tapped her on the rump.



“How dare you!” Grace shouted and tried to kick her legs, but the captain’s arm kept them pinned to his chest. The two men shared a chuckle.



“Weigh anchor, away aloft, and raise the main, Mr. Thorn. We set sail immediately.”



Raindrops bounced over the wooden planks, pelting her from all directions. Her head bumped against his damp coat. His hard shoulder pressed into her aching stomach as he carried her down a ladder. She stretched her hand to grab the hilt of his rapier, but it taunted her from its sheath at his other side, out of her reach. She pounded her fists against his back. Muscle as unyielding as steel sent pain through her hands.



With a chuckle, he sauntered down a hallway and kicked open a door. Grace tensed, fearing the man would toss her to the floor. Instead, grasping her waist, he gently set her down inside the tiny cabin.



Gaining her balance, Grace wiped the matted strands of wet hair from her face and faced him. “Who are you and what do you want with me?” she said in a stalwart tone that surprised her.



He doffed his feathered hat and banged it against his knee, sending droplets over the floor. Tucking an errant strand of wet hair behind his ear, he bowed. “Captain Rafe Dubois at your service, mademoiselle. I welcome you aboard Le Champion. And regarding what I want with you”—he raised one brow and allowed his gaze to scour over her—“I am to deliver you to Don Miguel De Salazar in Columbia.”



“Columbia?” Grace took a step back and gripped her throat.



“Oui, he has promised to pay quite handsomely for you.”



“For me? But why? I don’t even know the man.” A shudder ran through her.



“Ah, but your father does apparently. The two men are not…how do you say? Agreeable? Don Miguel holds him responsible for the death of his son in a skirmish with a galleon. He thought you would be adequate payment for the transgression.”



“Payment!” Grace’s fear gave way to anger. “I am no one’s payment. How can you take part in such a wicked scheme?”



The captain shrugged as if her words rolled off of him. “Like I said, he’s willing to pay handsomely.” He offered her a devious grin then donned his hat and closed the door with a resounding thud.





Saturday, January 2, 2010

THE COUNTRY HOUSE COURTSHIP IS HERE!


My latest book is now "officially" released and in book stores across the country.

Do you have a blog? Would you like a ready-made post about this book, replete with images, an interview with me, and everything you ever wanted to create a great blog post about a book?

I have a handy-dandy "blogger's toolkit" for this book. You can access it HERE. And here's a bonus tip: If you're an author too, use this toolkit as a template for your next release. It'll save you scads of time and trouble.

If you choose to do a post to your blog about my book, let me know. I'll offer a free copy to one of your commenters, which will help increase traffic to your blog. The only catch is that you must garner at least ten comments from different people to offer the giveaway--but tell this to your readers and they'll help bring you more!

So, once again, here's the free and easy to use "Blogger's Toolkit" for The Country House Courtship. And if you're curious about the book, but don't blog yourself, you can access the toolkit too, and read all about the book. Is it for you?

Here's a short blurb for

The Country House Courtship:


England, 1818: It has been five years since Ariana Forsythe married The Paragon, Mr. Phillip Mornay. Now, Ariana's sister, Miss Beatrice Forsythe, is seventeen and determined to marry advantageously as well. (Surely Ariana's society connexions all but guarantee Beatrice's success-especially if Mr. Mornay is created a baronet by the Prince Regent!

But the Mornay's have disappeared from high society as they raise a family at their country estate. Can Beatrice persuade them to chaperone her in London? And what about her business with the curate, Mr. O'Brien, whom Beatrice rashly promised to marry years earlier? She is too sophisticated now to settle for a mere clergyman-despite his agreeable countenance and gentle, understanding ways. When Mr. Tristan Barton becomes tenant of the Manor House, Beatrice's hopes seem to have found their object. But when Ariana falls gravely ill, secrets come to light, motives are revealed, and pretenses that are easy to keep up in the darkness begin to crumble. As hearts are bared and truths uncovered, a country house courtship like no other cannot be far behind!

Fans of Linore's first books, Before the Season Ends, and The House on Grosvenor Square, will be delighted with final addition to the Regency Inspirational Series, as will all readers of historical romance.
Remember, if you post about the book and want to let me know or offer a giveaway, email me
at Linore (at)LinoreRoseBurkard (dot) com.
I look forward to hearing from you!

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

What Single Women Should Remember


Ariana Forsythe, the heroine in my first two books, (Before the Season Ends, and, The House in Grosvenor Square) is not the typical regency miss when it comes to the "marriage mart"; Why? Because she is not satisfied to look for a husband who is merely wealthy or titled, attractive or agreeable. Instead, like the authentic young woman of faith that she is, she bases her discrimination of "husband material" on 2 Cor. 6:14.
"Do not be bound together with unbelievers."

This one thing sets her apart from the vast majority of single women, not only then, during the regency, but today.

In the first book, the above verse is recalled numerous times, but I had no opportunity to really delve into the reasoning behind it, the reasons why God instructs his people to be separate, to marry only fellow believers. It is not prejudice, or whim; it is not because God wants to make life difficult for his people: No! Quite the contrary. Note the following reasons, all of which are given in the context of that injunction: Why should Christians only marry fellow Christians?

* Partnership "For what partnership have righeousness and lawlessness?" (2Cor.6:14b)
* Fellowship "Or what fellowship has light with darkness?" (Ibid)
* Harmony "Or what harmony has Christ with Belial? (2Cor.6:15a)
* Commonality "Or what has a believer in common with an unbeliever?" (2Cor.6:15b)
* Agreement "Or what agreement has the temple of God with idols? For we are the temple of the living God." (2Cor.6:16)


Wow. Read those words again: Partnership, fellowship, harmony, commonality, and agreement. I don't know about you, but I certainly wouldn't want to enter a marriage that was lacking in any of these areas FROM THE GET GO. In other words, before you even have a chance to disagree on something, you are in disagreement. You are coming from opposite camps, as it were, and the degree of partnership is forever limited, forever handicapped, if your spirits are not both in the Lord.

Christian, you are a temple of God. You have the enormous privilege of being called into the fold of the redeemed. There are many, many differences to face in marriage, differences of temperament, of habits, of viewpoints in many things. What a tragedy if all of the natural differences we bring to marriage are compounded by the irreconcilable difference of SPIRITS!
According to this passage, when a Chrisitan marries, they bring into that marriage the Holy Spirit in them (they are a temple of God); the unbeliever also has a spirit, but it does not contain God. (In fact, according to today's verse, it is the spirit of Belial.)

Some that will argue that the person they are dating is so nice, so "good," even if they are unbelievers, that they must be acceptable partners. However, unless they know Christ, according to GOD, there can be no real partnership. Do you chafe against this? Do you yearn for marriage apart from God's revealed will (the Word)?

Trust him, my sister. He will bring the right mate for you in His time.
Trust!

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Milk Money by Cecelia Dowdy



Milk Money by Cecelia Dowdy
ISBN: 978-1-60260-255-7
Heartsong Presents Title #826
Publication Date: January 2009




Hi, Cecelia! Thanks for stopping by my blog to talk about your latest book from Heartsong Presents, Milk Money. Before we get into the story, please tell us what makes your heroine, Emily Cooper, a feisty female character worthy of being here on the "She's Got Character" blog!

Emily is strong-willed, intelligent, and fights for what she believes in. She wants to keep her family farm and she'll do whatever it takes to keep it, because it's her family's livelihood. Most of all, she has a strong faith in God. She prayerfully takes all of her burdens to the Lord!


Okay, she sounds interesting! So what's Milk Money all about?

Here’s a brief summary of the novel:
Running a dairy farm is a big job, but doing it alone is almost impossible.
When her dad dies, Emily must work hard to save the family farm, but she manages. Until the day the CPA pulls in her drive and announces he’s there to do an audit on the place.
Franklin Reese is appalled at the lack of interest Emily has in the financial end of her livelihood, but he dives in, determined to assess the farm and do his job. But Emily Cooper begins to draw his attention more than he likes. And the further he looks into Mr. Cooper’s dealings, the more uncomfortable he becomes.
Can he uncover the truth of the situation and still earn the love of the amazing Emily Cooper? Will his addiction to alcohol keep them apart, even after the farm is taken care of? Only God can heal hurting hearts and repair broken lives.

Your hero, Franklin, is an unsaved alcoholic and the heroine, Emily, is Christian. What particular challenges did this relationship present?

His being an alcoholic, and not being saved, created a very strong challenge with their relationship. Emily is a Christian and she knows how the Lord feels about being unequally yoked with a non-believer. Frank drinks alcohol to dull the emotional pain he’s suffered since his wife was killed. In spite of this, their attraction continues to grow, yet Emily knows they can’t be together romantically. It creates an interesting conflict in the novel.


Emily is running the family dairy farm alone since her father died. What kind of research did you need to do about dairy farming for this story?

In my novel’s dedication, I mention The Higgins family. I visited their small family dairy farm during their evening milking and it was an…interesting and smelly experience! While Mr. Higgins milked those large black and white Holsteins I asked him a plethora of questions about dairy farming. I also observed what he was doing, comparing his actions to what I’d researched on my own. I also milked a cow! I read some books about dairy farming and wanted to point out that if you know NOTHING about a subject, it’s best to start simple to get a basic understanding of the subject. Reading a lot of children’s books about dairy farming really helped me. I’ve used this method (reading children’s books) to research other occupations, too.

What do you hope people take away when they finish reading Milk Money?
I hope their faith in God is strengthened when they read my story.



What’s next for you in the writing arena?

I have another Heartsong Presents novel being released in June 2009 entitled Bittersweet Memories. Here’s a brief summary of my next release:
Karen Brown is angry at God, and at herself, for falling in love with Lionel Adams, her ex-fiancé. When her beloved suddenly disappears, along with thousands of dollars stolen from their mega-church, she re-locates back to her hometown in Annapolis Maryland to live with her mother, and to heal from her traumatic experience. However, she’s stunned to discover handsome plumber Keith Baxter living next door.
Keith is smitten with Karen, but wonders if she’s still in love with Lionel. He wants Karen to accept him into her life, but he doesn’t know if he’d be a good match for her due to his troubled past. Can Karen forgive Lionel, and let the Lord back into her heart? Can she let herself fall in love with Keith Baxter?

You are very well traveled. Of all the places you’ve visited, which is your favorite?

I love any tropical place with a nice beach with clear blue water! Places like Tahiti, parts of Mexico, and the Cayman Islands are my favorites.


What would people be surprised to learn about you?
Probably that I used to travel the world by myself! You have to be careful doing that though. When you go to those tropical islands and men see you traveling alone, they’ll try and make a pass at you!


What’s your favorite thing to read for pure enjoyment?
Just about any type of Christian fiction. AlthoughI tend to prefer Christian women’s fiction and Christian romance novels.


Last but not least, how can people keep up with your latest publishing news?
You can find out more news about me through my blog and website: www.ceceliadowdy.com and www.ceceliadowdy.blogspot.com

Thanks again for being here, Cecelia, it was great to chat with you.

Readers: To get Milk Money at the low price of just $2.97 click HERE


Sunday, February 1, 2009

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

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


Today's Wild Card author is:


and the book:


The Valentine Edition

The Wild Rose Press (January 16, 2009)


ABOUT THE AUTHOR:


In Robin's words:

I am the Special Education Coordinator for Denton County Juvenile Justice Alternative Program. I work with at risk teens from fifth grade through high school. My husband and I have been married for thirty-one years and we have two grown children. The first two years of marriage, Rick and I traveled overseas as missionaries. Afterwards we served as pastors of a church in Illinois. Presently we live near Dallas, Texas. He is in business and I work for the school system. (My husband still makes yearly mission trips to India.)

To date, my literary works include approximately two hundred articles in magazines such as: Guideposts, Live, Lookout, Mennonite, Christian Reader, Decision, Breakthrough and Christianity Today. Other short stories appear in the books: A Match Made in Heaven, Stories from the Heart, The Evolving Woman, and the New York Times bestseller, In The Arms of Angels by Joan Wester-Anderson. Ann Spangler also used one of my stories in her book, Help! I Can’t Stop Laughing. Another two-dozen stories have been published in the Chicken Soup books. One story, Mom’s Last Laugh, was re-enacted for a PAX-TV program: It’s a Miracle. I co-authored a thriller, The Chase, for Revell. My second book, The Replacement, was released in June 2006. The Candidate was released July, 2007. I continue to publish short stories in magazines. Wildcard, a mystery, will be a spring 2009 release. The Christmas Edition released Nov. 20. The Valentine Edition released in January 2009.

Visit the author's shoutlife and website.


Product Details:

List Price: $12.99
Paperback: 248 pages
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press (January 16, 2009)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1601544847
ISBN-13: 978-1601544841

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:


January 2

Jodi Williams sighed for the hundredth time as she waved goodbye to the Chicago skyline, catching the last of the city in her car’s rearview mirror. Dreams of working at The Tribune were dead right along with drinking green tea latte’s at Starbucks anytime she wanted.

Hope behind her.

The unknown ahead.

She steered toward Wisconsin. An hour later, Jodi looked out the window at the open fields of frozen ground and cows standing along snowy fences. The comparison between her two lives—the previous and the present—were startling.

Jodi attempted to shift her body in the seat but was pretty well anchored into the one position with her belongings crammed into the compact car from the trunk to the front. The turn-by-turn directions she had printed out were hard to follow since not all the roads were actually marked in this neck of the country. She decided to refer to them as mystery turns. Finally, Jodi pulled over to the shoulder and unfolded the road map to try to figure it out one more time. According to her calculations, she was almost there.

She looked around again and there it was, the Welcome to Turtle Creek sign, less than five feet ahead. Snickering at herself, she put her car back in drive, turned on her signal and pulled back onto the road. Soon she passed Ma’s Diner on the left and zoomed past one block of storefronts realizing that was all there was of town. “It’s worse than I imagined.”

Watching for the turn that would take her directly to the newspaper, she nearly missed seeing the small-bedraggled dog that darted out right in front of her. Startled, Jodi swerved and hit her brakes as her heart palpitated hard in her chest. It was a foolhardy maneuver that nearly landed her in the ditch but she felt it was worth the risk since she didn’t feel or hear a thud against the tires. After she came to a complete stop, Jodi peered over her steering wheel. She frantically looked to her left and right. The dog wasn’t in sight. She had to find the little thing. It was unsafe for it to be running around loose like this. What kind of people let a little dog roam free anyway? Jodi caught her negative thought and softened. Maybe the dog was lost and the family was searching at this very moment.

Jodi checked both lanes of traffic. Then she pulled up hard on the door handle, swiveled in her seat and set both feet on the ice. Gingerly stepping out to search for the animal, she was thankful no vehicle appeared from either direction. She walked around the car feeling the snow and ice seep into her leather shoes.

She finally found what she was looking for; the dog sat shivering under a bush. Fearful-looking eyes studied her approach. With matted hair and sad eyes, it looked unloved and unwanted, pulling at her heart.

“Hey there little one,” Jodi bent down. “Don’t be afraid. Let me help you.” When she held out her hand, the dog took off like a rocket, past her and right for the road. From a blanket of snowy air, a car appeared. It careened down the road traveling much too fast for the conditions. Jodi frantically called to the dog, “Come to me, come to me!” But instead of obeying, it sat down. “Now is no time to be stubborn!”

Jodi couldn’t watch. She shut her eyes and turned away from the awful sound of squealing brakes, the thump of the dog and the whimper. When she opened her eyes, she saw the poor thing lying still on its side. Jodi ran to it as the angry driver rolled down his window and yelled, “Watch your dog!”

“Watch where you’re going!” Jodi shot back and ignored him as he drove off. Without thinking about the cold or the possibility of being bitten, Jodi yanked off her coat and carefully placed it around the injured animal. “It’s all right; I’m just trying to help you. It’s okay.”

Gingerly, she held the dog just as a pickup truck came rolling toward them. Oh, no, not again. The road was too icy for her to get out of its way in time. She gripped the dog to her chest, said a prayer and hoped for the best. The tires splashed icy muck on her skirt. To her surprise, the driver was able to slow and come to a complete stop within inches of her frame. On the side of the truck was written Veterinarian Clinic Turtle Creek, Wisconsin—Josh Thomas.

“Is everything okay?” The man inside rolled down his window.

“No, everything is just terrible. The dog was hit.” Jodi started to cry.

“I’ll help.” He checked his side mirrors before parking on the shoulder of the road and then got out of the truck. Jodi noticed the man was her extreme opposite. He stood at least six foot two, weighed about two-fifty, where she was only a couple of inches over five feet and half his weight. His hair was the kind a woman longed to run her fingers through—thick, black and straight.

Wind blew snow into Jodi’s face. She rubbed her eyes and then brushed her curly auburn hair from
her face, making sure the kind stranger wasn’t an illusion.

After grabbing a mid-sized crate from the back of his truck, he walked over to where Jodi stood shivering in the cold wind holding her bundle. “Let’s get the dog to my clinic. Do you want to put it in the crate, or should I?”

“I’ll do it.” Feeling protective now, Jodi put the dog inside, leaving it wrapped in her coat. Doing a double take, he asked, “I guess I should introduce myself. I’m Josh Thomas. Are you all right?”

He touched her shoulder. It felt reassuring and made her cry harder knowing someone was here to handle the situation. All she managed was a nod. He patted her again. “Follow me.” Josh opened the passenger side and placed the crate on the truck seat. “Hopefully your little pal will be just fine. I’ll do my best so he’ll be home with you in no time.”

She wrinkled her nose. “That’s not my dog. I only stopped to help,” she explained, walking toward the truck.

Josh turned toward Jodi and gave her an appreciative smile. “So you’re the one? It’s nice to finally meet you. I heard about you in church on Sunday.”

“Me? On Sunday?” Her eyes widened.

“Yea you. We learned about the Good Samaritan. Let me shake your hand.”

Josh was totally disarming and made Jodi smile for the first time that day. When she took his hand, it felt strong and capable. She looked into his eyes where a collection of amber colors seemed to swirl together. “I’m Jodi Williams. I was trying to get the dog out of the road when he was hit. The driver didn’t stop to help.”

“I was on my way back from a farm call and in my daydreaming missed my turn to the clinic. Guess it was a good thing.” Josh explained as he climbed into his truck. “Don’t worry I’ll take it from here. Thanks again, Miss Good Samaritan.”

“Wait. Let me come with you.” Jodi looked at her car and again at Josh.

“Sure, just follow me. Back your car around and pull in behind me. I’ll wait for you.”

“Okay.” Jodi nodded to him as she opened her car door. Just as she scooted onto the driver’s seat a blast of wind slammed the door on her. Freezing to the bone, she cranked up the heater full blast. Then she turned on her wipers to move the snow off her windshield. Jodi found a safe place to turn around, and in no time, she was following Josh’s truck. A few turns later, they arrived at the veterinary clinic. The large sign read Thomas Veterinary Clinic and Animal Rescue. It seemed like an appropriate name since she and the dog had both been on the receiving end of that rescue. Jodi followed Josh into the building.

A pretty blonde-headed woman wearing brightly colored scrubs printed with playful dogs and cats, sat at the desk. “What do you have in there?” She looked at the small crate.

“An injured dog, hit on County O.” Josh turned to Jodi. “This is my secretary, Della Wheat. Della, this is Ms. Williams.”

“Jodi,” she corrected, hardly noticing Della. Her eyes remained fixed on the dog.

“Just fill out a card for me.” Della placed it on the counter along with a pen.

“She was trying to rescue the stray when it was hit,” Josh explained. “We don’t need the information.”

“I’d still like to fill out the card.” Jodi picked up the pen. Not knowing where she’d be staying yet, she only wrote her name and cell phone number. She put the pen back down and asked Josh, “Would it be all
right for me to go into the examination room with you?”

Josh shrugged. “Sure enough. Keep following me.”

They entered a brightly lit and predictably spotless small room. An aroma from the cleaning disinfectant was evident. They faced each other on opposite sides of the stainless steel examination table. Josh placed the crate on the table and slowly pulled out the dog on Jodi’s bloody coat.

“Hi, there, little guy. Will you let me see how you are doing?” Josh parted the folds of the coat and then lifted the dog out. It whimpered but didn’t try to snap.

Jodi removed her coat from the table. Josh kept looking up at her and down at the dog again. “You seem pretty shook up. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“That’s good to know. I thought you might need a doctor yourself, for a minute there.” Josh chuckled.

She took her first long look at him. Great smile that was burned into her memory from their first encounter on the road, but now she saw he was also quite handsome. What attracted her was his obvious tender spirit reflected in his soft eyes. She didn’t even know him but he suddenly made an imprint on her heart. The way he looked at her made Jodi wonder if he felt it, too.

The door to the examination room popped open. “Do you need my help, Doctor?” Della stood in the doorway.

“Sure, come on in.”

Della entered and began her work while lightly humming. She seemed like the kind of gal who was always humming even when she did things that should be done in silence, like calming animal nerves or cleaning up messes. At least that was how Jodi imagined her to be.

Jodi watched as Josh gently turned the dog on its side and stroked its head, talking low and soft, trying to bring comfort to it. Della quickly stepped in to hold the dog, making Jodi move back out of their way. The room was cramped with all them in it, so she moved to the corner to watch.

“The dog has some pretty bad abrasions, but I don’t see anything that would require sutures. It looks like he’s a little neutered male, so someone once cared for him.” Josh tilted back the dog’s head and parted his jaws to have a good look inside. “And he’s no older than two years.”

The animal held his left hind leg tight up against his body. When Josh gently tried to straighten it, the dog yelped in pain and then licked Josh’s hand. Josh responded immediately by stroking its head. “Ah, I guess the leg is probably broken. We won’t know how badly until I get an x-ray of it.” Josh felt along the side of the animal and examined each leg. “In fact, I want to get several x-rays on him to see what else we’re dealing with here.”

“I’ll get everything ready,” Della hummed. Jodi glanced discreetly at the wall clock. She was late for her first day at her new job. “I have to leave, but my cell number is at the front desk. Will you call me later? I’d like to know how he does.”

“Of course I will.” Josh smiled again. It was enough to make her want to stay right here with the dog and with Josh, but then Della opened the door for her and took the dog to the back.

Jodi walked from the room as she took a good look at her coat. It was stained with blood and her clothes had muck on them.

“There’s a dry cleaner about five miles from here.”

“No good. I’m starting my job at The Turtle Creek Newspaper today, and I can’t go in like this. I’m not sure what to do since I’m already pretty late.” Jodi fretted as she folded her coat over one arm.

Josh took a jacket from one of the wall hooks.

“I know it doesn’t look like much, but at least it’s clean. Here.” He held out the dark green jacket. Jodi managed with much self-restraint not to roll her eyes. The truth was she didn’t want to wear it, but under the circumstances, in near-zero-degree temperature, she didn’t have much choice. Besides it was clean and Josh was sweet to offer it. When she slipped into it, the coat nearly swallowed up her small frame. She pulled the right side over the left and laughed when it nearly went all the way around her back. The way Josh looked at her made her blush.

“It’ll keep you warm,” he said.

Della walked back into the room. She frowned. The humming came to a stop. “Why is she wearing that?”

Jodi noticed the young woman’s displeasure. It made her feel silly. “She’s right, I can’t take this.”

“Wear it. It’ll do in a blizzard.”

Jodi looked out the window at the snow coming heavier now. The wind seemed stronger. “The weather is getting worse. If I take this, what’ll you wear?”

“There’s another jacket in my truck.”

“Please be sure to call and let me know how that sweet little guy is doing, okay?”

“Will do,” Josh promised. “He sure is a little cherub.”

Jodi reluctantly put on the jacket, hesitating before heading out to her car.

****

Twenty-year-old Della Wheat held up her hand and sweetly waved goodbye to Jodi. Then she turned to Josh. “She seems nice.”

“Yep, that she is.” He walked to the windows and watched as she got into her car and drove off. He was quiet a minute and then turned to Della.

“While I get those x-rays taken, I need you to start on the invoices. They’re on your desk. I’d like them in the mail by the end of the work day.” Josh started toward the back.

“Sure thing, as soon as I organize the waiting room. You know how I am about messiness,” Della answered as she began her daily routine with military preciseness. She fanned out the magazines into attractive sections, then swept the floor and finished off her housekeeping with a bit of dusting.

Once the fish were fed, she straightened her desk. It was then she noticed something on the counter of her well-ordered room. Calmly, Della picked up the white card and read Jodi Williams’ contact information. Cute, she was the kind who marked a line through each of her sevens and wrote her name in fancy, curly script. Della smiled and hummed happily as she walked over to the shredder and buzzed the piece of paper right through it. Jodi Williams disappeared.

“All gone.” Della wiped her hands together.

Now that this new woman was out of Josh’s life, Della was ready to get to work. She went around her desk and sat down. From the top drawer, she took out the container of paper clips, the small bag of rubber bands, the handful of pens and removed a folder. Underneath all of that was a picture of Josh and her at last year’s Christmas party at the church. She caressed his face with her finger. Then she picked up a black marker with a thin point and used it to carefully write across the bottom, You’re the only woman for me. All my love, Josh. It made Della smile. Then she shut the folder and returned it to the desk, placing the office supplies back on top. Within the hour, a CLOSED sign was placed in the door of the clinic. Della assisted Josh in surgery.

She watched every move he made. Della had a hard time keeping her mind on what they were doing. She kept looking over at Josh, hoping he’d see her and give her one of those great big smiles of his. He didn’t smile, didn’t even give her a look. All his concern went to the animal he was working on. He was devoted. He would smile at her later. That was her affirmation.

“Isn’t he a sweet little thing?” Della commented on the dog, needing attention from Josh.

“He sure was lucky to come out of it with just one fracture and a few abrasions. I think the good Lord was smiling down on you today,” he told the sedated mutt. “Della, while I pin the leg, steady it for me by holding the bones together just so.” Josh demonstrated.

Della followed his instructions.

“Once surgery is over, I’ll attach the rigid bar on the cast. Within a day or two, he should be using that leg just fine,” Josh murmured.

“You inspire me.” Della’s hand brushed his as she took over positioning the leg. It made her heart race.

“Just doing my job.” Perspiration gathered along Josh’s brow. In a few minutes, he had accomplished stabilizing the leg. “Good. You did well. You both did.” He looked at Della and gave her a smile.

There it was! Her affirmation! It came true, washing over her heart; she nearly fainted from happiness, but remained vertical and stared down at the dog’s leg that Josh was closing.

“That should do it.” Josh laid his instruments to the side and looked at the dog one more time. “I’ll give Jodi a call. She’ll want to know how the dog is doing.”

“I’ll do that for you,” Della insisted.

“No, I’ll do it myself as soon as the dog is fully awake and eats something.” Josh carried the animal to a prepared kennel and laid him on a heating pad. Della’s heart palpitated with fear and self-doubt. Deep breaths, she told herself. It was time to listen to her affirmation tapes. Della returned to the waiting room, unlocked the door and put the Open sign back in the window. At her desk, she slid her earphones on and popped the next CD in her player. She pressed play. She moved her lips along with the words on the tape, “I am focused on finding love. I have found love. That is all that matters. I am having fun.”

Her headphones were suddenly lifted off her head as her hair caught in the earpiece. “Ouch!” She turned around. It was her love. “Josh, what are you doing?”

“Are you listening to those silly tapes again? There are messages that need to be answered. Don’t you see the blinking light?”

“Sorry.” Della’s face blushed.

“Also get Jodi’s number for me, please.”

“Uhm….” Della watched her love leave the room.

If there was ever a time she needed to listen to her tapes, it was now. However, she would do as Josh asked and put them away. She’d write out her affirmation instead. With a pen in hand, she began; I believe in myself. I believe in the power of love. I believe Josh loves me. I believe Josh and I are destined to be together. I believe Josh will ask me to marry him. I believe in myself. I believe in the power of love. I believe Josh loves me. I believe Josh and I are destined to be together. I will make it happen. I believe in the power of me.

Monday, January 26, 2009

Let Someone Else Praise You

...and not you yourself.

This is what we learn from scripture, and today I am thanking Caroline, a writer, for posting about my book, BEFORE THE SEASON ENDS, on her blog, by copying her post here.
Just remember, these are not my words!! (It isn't my style to thumb my nose at anything. I don't think. lol)

Here's the post, from Sunnybank Meanderings earlier today: Caroline says,



"I Promised You . . ."

"Did you read the interview with Linore Rose Burkard I posted? Did you get her book?

Well, here are some reasons I like her writing:

* She thumbs her nose (my wording) at the rules. What I mean is, she uses omniscient viewpoint liberally in her book and does it well. That is a no-no in the CBA writing world. At least for most people. You've got to be "big" to get away with it. You've got to know what you're doing.
* Her characters are real. When you read her book, you can see Charles and Julie Forsythe--the parents--and their concern for their still unmarried (and her "fanciful notions") daughter. You can see Ariana in all her youthful escapades and Mr. Mornay in his delightful (to the readers) boredom with society and his disdain of all the fawning mothers with eligble daughters. Aunt Bentley and her determination to do the "right" thing even when its a bother, adds flavor to the whole book.
* Too, Linore uses authentic descriptions and words that carry you straight back to the regency period.

A new author, look for "Before the Season Ends" from Harvest House. You'll not be sorry if you like good historicals."

Thank you, Caroline!

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Interview with Author Bonnie Leon


Today, Bonnie Leon answers a few questions about herself and her latest heroine in her historical fiction book, Longings of the Heart. Read on to see why, in both cases, "She's got character!"


1. Bonnie, what is the most feisty thing about you?
Those who know me well also know that I can be spirited. I believe in speaking the truth, which has gotten me into trouble from time to time. And I try to be transparent. With me, pretty much what you see is what you get. I figure if I pretend to be someone I’m not then people won’t know the real me and that would be dishonest.

2. What is the most fun thing you offer in your books?

If you love history you’ll have fun when you read my stories. I research thoroughly and do everything I can to create scenes that are true to the time and place of my stories. I often hear from readers who say that while reading my books they feel as if they are actually planted in the story. That means I’ve done my job. 
I’m a true romantic and so I always include some romance in my tales along with a bit of adventure. Although some of my books look into dark places the journey is also entertaining.
And the bottom line for me is that I present a story that has something to say, something that glorifies God. I do my best to share Godly truths in my tales.

Questions for your heroine:
1. What makes you a feisty female character?

Although I’m constrained by society I believe in standing up for myself. It has gotten me into difficulty a time or two, but I shan’t pretend to be something I’m not. I also work alongside my husband, even riding astride whilst making trips to purchase sheep for our farm. Some are shocked to see a woman riding that way, but it’s the only sensible thing to do.
Most women in Parramatta are spirited. We must be if we’re to survive.

2. Why would readers want to be like you?

I’m not at all certain anyone would want to be like me. I am lucky to be educated. Most women in my station are not, but Mum believed in education and made certain I attended school at a church near our home in London.
I’ve done some dreadful things in my life and have endured unspeakable hardships. I’m only now beginning to understand God’s forgiveness and love. I dare say, many have experienced the same miseries that I have, and they’ve lived with the shame of sin and wondered how God could forgive such wickedness.
I do possess something truly grand, and that is the assurance that God’s love is steady and enduring. No matter my past or my future he offers grace to me.

3. What is a one-liner of advice you can offer your readers?

There is no sorrow, no sin, nor any kind of trouble too difficult for God.

Thank you, Bonnie! Your heroine sounds spirited but grounded. I look forward to "meeting" her in your book!