Where I share my love of books with reviews, features, giveaways and memes. Family and needlepoint are thrown in from time to time.

Friday, August 21, 2009

Friday Finds 8-21-2009

Here are my finds this week!



13 1/2 by Nevada Barr

Publisher: Vanguard Press

About the book: In 1971, the state of Minnesota was rocked by the “Butcher Boy” incident, as coverage of a family brutally murdered by one of their own swept across newspapers and television screens nationwide.

Now, in present-day New Orleans, Polly Deschamps finds herself at yet another lonely crossroads in her life. No stranger to tragedy, Polly was a runaway at the age of fifteen, escaping a nightmarish Mississippi childhood.

Lonely, that is, until she encounters architect Marshall Marchand. Polly is immediately smitten. She finds him attractive, charming, and intelligent. Marshall, a lifelong bachelor, spends most of his time with his brother Danny. When Polly’s two young daughters from her previous marriage are likewise taken with Marshall, she marries him. However, as Polly begins to settle into her new life, she becomes uneasy about her husband’s increasing dark moods, fearing that Danny may be influencing Marshall in ways she cannot understand.

But what of the ominous prediction by a New Orleans tarot card reader, who proclaims that Polly will murder her husband? What, if any, is the Marchands’ connection to the infamous “Butcher Boy” multiple homicide? And could Marshall and his eccentric brother be keeping a dark secret from Polly, one that will shatter the happiness she has forever prayed for? (Amazon)



About the author: Nevada Barr is an award-winning novelist and New York Times bestselling author. She has a growing number of Anna Pigeon mysteries to her credit as well as numerous other books, short stories, and articles. She currently resides in New Orleans with her husband, four magical cats, and two adorable dogs. (Amazon)

13 1/2
Publisher/Publication Date: Vanguard Press, Sept 29, 2009
ISBN: 978-1593155537
320 pages







The Third Man Factor: Surviving the Impossible by John Geiger

Publisher: Weistein Books

About the book: The Third Man Factor is an extraordinary account of how people at the very edge of death experience the sense of an unseen presence beside them who encourages them to make one final effort to survive. This incorporeal being offered them a feeling of hope, protection, and guidance, and left the person convinced he or she was not alone. There is a name for this phenomenon: It's called the Third Man Factor.

If only a handful of people had ever encountered the Third Man, it might be dismissed as an unusual delusion shared by a few overstressed minds. But over the years, the experience has occurred again and again, to 9/11 survivors, mountaineers, divers, polar explorers, prisoners of war, sailors, shipwreck survivors, aviators, and astronauts. All have escaped traumatic events only to tell strikingly similar stories of having sensed the close presence of a helper or guardian. The force has been explained as everything from hallucination to divine intervention. Recent neurological research suggests something else.

Bestselling and award-winning author John Geiger has completed six years of physiological, psychological, and historical research on The Third Man. He blends his analysis with compelling human stories such as Ron diFrancesco, the last survivor out of the World Trade Center on 9/11; Ernest Shackleton, the legendary explorer whose account of the Third Man inspired T.S. Eliot to write of it in The Wasteland; Jerry Linenger, a NASA astronaut who experienced The Third Man while aboard the Mir space station-and many more.

Fascinating for any reader, The Third Man Factor at last explains this secret to survival, a Third Man who-in the words of famed climber Reinhold Messner-"leads you out of the impossible." (Amazon)




The Third Man Factor
Publisher/Publication Date: Weinstein Books, Sept 2009
ISBN: 978-1602861077
320 pages






What great books did you find this week?? Stop over at Should Be Reading and share yours!

First Wild Card Tour: TRUTH OR DARE and ALL THAT GLITTERS

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 books:


Truth or Dare

Barbour Books (August 1, 2009) )


AND


All That Glitters

Barbour Books (August 1, 2009)


ABOUT THE AUTHOR:


Nicole O’Dell lives in Illinois with her husband and six children—including triplets! Nicole has a heart for young girls and a special passion for the relationships between mothers and daughters as they approach the teen years. Her new book series, Scenarios Interactive Fiction for Girls, is designed to help girls develop sound decision-making skills and debuts in August 2009 with the release of the first two books. Her writing also includes devotionals and Bible studies for women of all ages.

Visit the author's website.

Product Details:

Truth or Dare:
List Price: $7.97
Reading level: Young Adult
Paperback: 192 pages
Publisher: Barbour Books (August 1, 2009)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1602603995
ISBN-13: 978-1602603998

All That Glitters:
List Price: $7.97
Reading level: Young Adult
Paperback: 192 pages
Publisher: Barbour Books (August 1, 2009)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1602604002
ISBN-13: 978-1602604001

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTERs:


Truth or Dare
Scenarios—Interactive Fiction for Girls

Nicole O’Dell

Chapter 1

Rule the School

The first bright, yellow light of day was starting to peek through the blinds covering her window. Lindsay Martin stretched and yawned as she slowly woke up. After tossing and turning much of the night, she was still sleepy, so she turned over and pulled the puffy pink comforter up to her chin and allowed herself to doze off for a few more minutes, burying her face in her pillow.

But wait. She sat up quickly, remembering it was the first day of school. With no time to waste, she jumped out of bed.

She had carefully selected her clothes the night before, and the khaki pants and screened-print tee were still hanging on her closet door just waiting to be worn. But, after thinking about it, they seemed all wrong. Frantically plowing through her closet for something different to wear, Lindsay pushed aside last year’s jeans and T-shirts, and found the perfect outfit: not too dressy, not too casual, not too anything. As an eighth grader, she wanted to look cool without looking like she was trying too hard—which was the fashion kiss of death. Confident she had selected the perfect outfit, she padded off to the bathroom to get ready to face the day.

Happy with how she looked—jeans with just the right amount of fading down the front, a short-sleeved T-shirt layered over a snug, long-sleeved T-shirt, and a pair of sunglasses perched atop her blonde hair—she bounced down the stairs, slowing as she reached the bottom. Just wanting to get out of the house and be on her way, Lindsay sighed when she recognized the smell of bacon coming from the kitchen. “Mom, I’m really not hungry, and I have to go meet the girls!”

“Now, you know I’m not going to let you head off to school without breakfast, so at least take this with you.” Mom held out Lindsay’s favorite breakfast sandwich: an English muffin with fluffy scrambled eggs, cheese, and two slices of bacon.

Lindsay wrapped it up in a napkin so she could take it with her and gave her mom a quick kiss before rushing out the door. “Thanks, Mom. You’re the best!”

Hurrying toward the school, Lindsay munched on her sandwich along the way. Nerves set in and, halfway through her sandwich, her stomach wouldn’t allow her to finish it; so she tossed what was left into a nearby trash can where it fell with a thud.

After her short walk down the tree-lined streets, she arrived at the meeting spot—a large oak tree in the front yard of the school—about fifteen minutes early. Shielding her eyes from the sun and squinting in eager anticipation, Lindsay watched the street for the first sign of her three best friends. She expected Sam and Macy to arrive by school bus—they lived too far away from the school to walk, so they generally rode the bus together. Kelly didn’t live too far away, but her mom usually dropped her off before heading to her job as an attorney in the city. Lindsay was thankful she lived so close to the school. She loved being the first one there to greet her friends each morning. Since her mom didn’t have to leave for work, and Lindsay didn’t need to catch the bus, she had a bit more flexibility and could save a spot for them under their favorite tree.

The bus pulled into the driveway, squealing as it slowed. It paused to wait for the crowds of students to move through the crosswalk. When it finally parked, the doors squeaked open and students began to pour off the bus just as Kelly’s mom pulled up to the curb right in front of Lindsay.

“Bye, Mom!” Kelly grabbed her new backpack out of the backseat and jumped out of the car. At almost the same time, Macy and Sam exited the bus after the sixth and seventh graders got off.

Excitedly, the four girls squealed and hugged each other under their tree, never minding the fact that they had been with each other every day for the entire summer. They shrieked and jumped up and down in excitement as if they had been apart for months. They were eighth graders. This was going to be the best year yet. With eager anticipation, each one of them could tell there was something more grown-up and exciting about the first day of eighth grade, and they were ready for it.

With a few minutes to spare before the bell rang, the girls stopped and leaned against their tree for a quick survey of the schoolyard. It was easy to identify the sixth graders. They were nervous, furtively glancing in every direction; and, the most telltale sign of a sixth grader, they had new outfits and two-day-old haircuts. The girls easily but not fondly remembered how scary it was to be new to middle school and felt sorry for the new sixth graders.

The seventh graders were a little bit more confident, but still not nearly cool enough to speak to the eighth graders. Most students, no matter the grade, carried backpacks and some had musical instruments. Some even had new glasses or had discarded their glasses in favor of contacts.

“Look over there.” Kelly pointed across the grassy lawn to a student. A new student, obviously a sixth grader, struggled with his backpack and what appeared to be a saxophone case. Two bigger boys, eighth graders, grabbed the case out of his hands and held it over his head. They teased him mercilessly until the bell rang, forcing them to abandon their fun and head in to the school. The girls shook their heads and sighed—some things never changed—as they began to walk toward the doors.

Kelly and Sam both stopped to reach into their backpacks to turn off their new cell phones before entering the school—it would make for a horrible first day of school if they were to get their phones taken away.

“You’re so lucky,” Macy whined as she watched Kelly flip open her shiny blue phone, carefully decorated with sparkly gems. Sam laughed and turned off her sporty red phone, slid the top closed, and dropped it into her bag. Macy’s parents wouldn’t let her have a cell phone until high school.

“When did you guys get cell phones?” Lindsay asked.

“I got mine yesterday, and Sam got hers on Saturday,” Kelly explained. “My mom wanted to have a way to reach me in the case of an emergency and for me to be able to reach her. I’m not supposed to use it just anytime I want to.”

“Same with me. I might as well not have it. I can call anyone who has the same service or use it as much as I want to on nights and weekends, but that’s it,” Sam complained.

“It’s still way more than I have. You’re so lucky,” Macy said emphatically.

Lindsay sighed and agreed with Macy while she smeared untinted lip gloss onto her lips. “I have no idea when I’ll ever get to have a cell phone. My mom thinks that they are bad for ‘kids.’” She rolled her eyes to accentuate the point that she not only thought she should have a cell phone, but that she definitely disagreed with the labeling of herself and her friends as kids. “She won’t even let me use lip gloss with any color in it. She thinks I’m too young.”

With cell phones turned off, backpacks slung over shoulders, lip gloss perfectly accenting skin tanned by the lazy days of summer, and arms locked, the four best friends were ready to enter the school to begin their eighth-grade year. Seeing their reflection in the glass doors of the school as they approached it, Lindsay noticed how tall they’d all become over the summer. Four pairs of new jeans, four similar T-shirts, and four long manes of shiny hair—they were similar in so many ways, but different enough to keep things interesting.

Kelly Garrett was the leader of the group. The girls almost always looked to her to get the final word on anything from plans they might make, to boys they liked, to clothes they wore. She was a natural leader, which was great most of the time. Her strong opinions sometimes caused conflict, though. Sam Lowell, the comedienne of the group was always looking for a way to entertain them and make them laugh. She was willing to try anything once, and her friends enjoyed testing her on that. Macy Monroe was the sweet one. She was soft-spoken and slow to speak. She hated to offend anyone and got her feelings hurt easily. Then there was Lindsay. She was in the middle, the glue. She was strong but kind and was known to be a peacemaker. She often settled disputes between the girls to keep them from fighting.

Amid complete chaos—students talking, locker doors slamming shut, high-fives, and whistles—the first day of school began. There was an assembly for the eighth graders, so the girls head toward the gymnasium rather than finding their separate ways to their first classes.

Unlike the younger students who had to sit with their classes, eighth-graders could choose where they wanted to sit. The girls filed into the bleachers together, tucking their belongings beneath their feet carefully so that they wouldn’t fall through to the floor below. The room was raucously loud as 150 eighth graders excitedly shared stories of their summers and reunited with friends.

The speakers squealed as the principal turned on his microphone and tried to get everyone’s attention. “Welcome back to Central Middle School. Let’s all stand together to recite the Pledge of Allegiance.”

Conversations slowly trailed off to a dull roar as teachers attempted to create some order in each row. The eighth-graders shuffled to their feet and placed their right hands over their hearts to recite the Pledge, and the principal began, “I pledge allegiance to the flag. . .”

Lindsay joined in, but her mind wandered as she looked down the row at each of her best friends. She remembered the great summer they had. They spent many days languishing in the hot sun by Kelly’s pool. She remembered the day when Sam got a bad sunburn from laying on the tanning raft for hours and not listening to the girls when they suggested she reapply her sunscreen. She wanted a good tan, and she paid the price. Kelly had the bright idea of using olive oil and lemon juice to take away the sting—she thought she had heard about that somewhere—but all it did was make Sam smell bad for days along with the suffering that her burns caused.

They also had gone shopping at the mall whenever Sam’s mom would pile them into her SUV and drop them off for a few hours so they could check out the latest fashions and watch for new students—boys in particular. Their favorite mall activity was to take a huge order of cheese fries and four Diet Cokes to a table at the edge of the food court so they could watch the people walk by.

They had a blast burying each other in the sand at the beach whenever Macy’s dad took a break from job-hunting to spend the day lying in the sun. One time, they even made a huge castle with a moat. The castle had steps they could climb, and the moat actually held water. It took them almost the entire day, but the pictures they took made it all worth it.

They had also shared a weeklong trip to Lindsay’s Bible camp. It was a spiritual experience for Lindsay, who used the time to deepen her relationship with God. She enjoyed being able to bring her friends into that part of her life—even if it was just for a week. Macy, more than the others, showed some interest and said that she’d like to attend youth group with Lindsay when it started up again in the fall. All four girls enjoyed the canoe trips—even the one when the boat capsized and they got drenched. They swam in the lake and played beach volleyball. The week they spent at camp was a good end to what they considered a perfect summer.

Although there was a certain finality to their fun and freedom with the arrival of the school year, there was excitement too, as they took this next step toward growing up together. Lindsay took a moment to imagine what it would be like in the future. Next year, they would start high school. After several years, they would head off to the same college and room together as the plan had always been. At some point, they would each find someone to settle down with and get married. They had already figured out who would be the maid of honor for whose wedding. That way, they each got to do it once. And they would each be bridesmaids for each other. Then, they would have children. Hopefully, they would have them at around the same time so they their children could grow up together too. Beautiful plans built on beautiful friendships. . .what more could a girl ask for?


“…One nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.” The Pledge of Allegiance ended, and all of the students sat down to hear about the exciting new school year.


All That Glitters
Scenarios—Interactive Fiction for Girls

Nicole O’Dell

Chapter 1

Time for a Change

A fancy sports car on one side and a shiny, brand-new SUV on the other, Mrs. Daniels slid her car into a parking spot at the mall. More than any other year, shopping for school clothes this year was a very important task. Dani and Drew, identical twins, were starting the ninth grade—freshman year, the first year of high school. They knew full well how important their first impression was— well, at least Drew did. She had spent most of her summer planning and researching fashion trends, hairstyles, and makeup tips by reading fashion magazines. Not that it would do her much good, she often thought. Their parents didn’t allow them to wear makeup; and her long, straight, dark hair looked just like her sister’s and was cut and styled in the same style they had always had.

“Mom, I think it’s time for a change,” Drew announced as they walked through the parking lot toward the mall.

“What kind of change?” Mrs. Daniels asked hesitantly.

“You know, change isn’t always a bad thing.” Drew thought her mom might need some convincing before she tried to state her case. “Change can just be a part of growing up and a sign that a girl is secure and comfortable with herself.”

“Yes, Drew, I’m aware of that. Why do I have a feeling that I’m not going to like what you’re about to suggest?” Mrs. Daniels sighed good-naturedly and looked at Drew’s twin sister, who shrugged her shoulders not knowing anything about the big change that her twin was proposing. “Well, let’s have it. What have you got cooked up?”

“Oh, it’s really not a big deal, Mom. I’d just like to get my hair cut.” Drew pulled a picture of a hairstyle out of her pocket and showed it to her mom.

Mrs. Daniels could see immediately that the softly layered style would cascade to a very flattering place just below Drew’s shoulders. She looked at Dani and raised her eyebrows. “Do you want your hair cut like that?”

“No, Mom, you don’t understand.” Drew interrupted with a slight whine, nervous that she wasn’t getting her point across. “If Dani cuts her hair like that too, then I don’t want to. This is how I want to look. . .by myself. I want to make a change, even just a slight one like my hairstyle, to separate myself from just being ‘one of the twins.’ I want to be an individual; I want to be Drew.”

“Ah, I see, now.” Mrs. Daniels knew that this would happen one day and, she had to admit, high school was a reasonable time for this to occur. It pained her to think of her baby girls reaching such an independent place, though. “How do you feel about that, Dani?”

“Well, to be honest, I really don’t want to change my hair. And I like being ‘one of the twins’ as Drew put it. I guess I don’t see how that’s a bad thing. Why would changing your hair to look like a picture of someone else make you an individual anyway?” She asked pointedly, turning to Drew.

“It just gives me the chance to express myself and be different than I have been.”

“As long as you really mean ‘different than you have been’ and not just that you want to be different than me.” Dani tried not to be hurt, but it was difficult.

“Aw, Sis, I love you. Nothing can change that we’re twins. That will always be a part of us. We’re just talking about a haircut here.”

“I guess you’re right.” Dani laughed. “Let’s go get your hair cut so we can all get used to it while we try on clothes.”

First stop: Shear Expressions for a new hairstyle. The bell above the door jingled as they entered the store. Luckily, there wouldn’t be a wait because Drew was too excited and impatient to wait. She took her seat in the shampoo chair, and the stylist began to lather up her hair. After the shampooing was finished, she patted Drew’s hair dry and moved her to the station where she would be cutting her hair.

Drew struggled to get her hand into the front pocket of her jeans so she could show the stylist the picture of the haircut that she wanted. “Um, Drew, I didn’t realize that your jeans were getting so tight. We’re going to have to be sure to buy some new jeans today.”

“Mom,” Drew laughed. “This is how I bought them. I want them this way.”

Mrs. Daniels looked at the stylist, obviously a mom herself, and shrugged her shoulders. “I know,” the stylist said, “it looks uncomfortable to me too.”

“This is what I want.” Drew showed her the picture, ignoring the comments about her jeans.

“Oh, that’s going to be easy enough and beautiful too. We’ll just take this hair of yours and cut some layers into it. We’ll probably need to take off about three inches, but you have plenty of length so it won’t even be that noticeable. Are you doing the same cut?” The stylist turned to Dani.

“Nope, not me. I’m staying just like this.”

“All right then, let’s get started.”

Thirty minutes later, with dark hair in little piles all over the floor around her, Drew was staring into the mirror in front of her, getting her first look at her new self. She was stunned with what she saw. After looking at her sister for so many years, she was used to having a walking mirror right beside her. But now, as they both gazed into the mirror and took in the changes, they realized that a simple thing like a haircut signaled major changes afoot. Dani was sad when she saw the differences between them, but Drew was thrilled with her new look.

“I love it!” She spun around to the right and then to the left and watched her hair bounce in waves around her shoulders. “It moves, and it’s free.” She didn’t miss the long, thick straight locks a bit. “It has personality. Thank you so much. You did a perfect job,” she said to the hairdresser.

“I’m so glad you like it. I think it looks great too.” Both the hairdresser and Mrs. Daniels were a bit more reserved out of sensitivity to Dani.

“Mom, what about you? Do you like it?”

“You look beautiful, dear. Very grown up.”

“Now I’m ready to shop.” Nothing was going to contain Drew’s excitement as they left the salon; she was thrilled.


* * * * *


“We need to be wise now, girls. There is a limit to today’s budget. My question is whether you want to split the budget and each get your own clothes—or do you want to pick things out to share and get more that way?”

Drew was trying to be more of an individual, but even she could see the logic behind pooling their resources and sharing the clothing allowance; and she knew that Dani would agree. But Drew did have one trick up her sleeve that she decided to save for later in the day.

They spent the day trying on clothes. It helped that both girls were exactly the same size and basically liked similar things. By the end of the day, they had successfully managed to supply their wardrobe with all of the basics they would need for ninth grade, including new winter jackets, jeans, tops, sweaters, belts, socks, pajamas, undergarments, accessories, and shoes. They were exhausted by the end of the shopping trip, and Mrs. Daniels was more than ready to go home.

As they were walking toward the exit door, Drew said, “Mom, you mentioned that you have grocery shopping to do. Would it be all right if Dani and I stayed here and meet you when you’re finished? I have a few things I still want to look for.”

“I suppose that would be okay, but I’m done with dishing out money today. So what are you looking for, and what will you do once you find it?” Mrs. Daniels laughed.

“I brought some of the money I saved from babysitting this summer, and I really want to use some of it to get a few unique shirts or something that will be just mine—you know, signature pieces. I promise I won’t spend it all, Mom.”

“Oh, I see. This is part of your search for individuality? Is that it?” At Drew’s nod, she continued, “I don’t see anything wrong with that. But, Drew, just remember what your dad and I allow and how we expect you to dress. No super-tight jeans, no shirts that show your belly, nothing with a saying or advertisement that your dad and I would find inappropriate. Think of it this way: nothing that I wouldn’t let you wear to youth group. Deal?”

“Got it, Mom. Thanks, you’re the best.”

After they discussed their meeting time and location, Mrs. Daniels left the girls to their shopping. They hit all of their favorite stores again. Dani wasn’t too happy about it, though. “Why couldn’t you have done this while we were shopping earlier?” She asked Drew.

“Because, I wanted to finish the shopping for our stuff and then I would know what I still needed.”

“Oh, Sis, there’s nothing else that you need.”

“I know, that’s what makes this part so fun. It’s all about what I want.”

Dani sighed and suggested they get started before they ran out of time. With her own money, Drew selected two snug, plaid shirts to wear over a tight black T-shirt that she found. The flannel shirts barely reached her waistband, but the T-shirt was long enough, so she thought it would pass. She also selected a cropped denim jacket that was covered in studded rhinestones. Dani liked the jacket, but it wasn’t really her style at all. Drew also picked a few cropped sweaters that, if worn alone, would be way too short for Mrs. Daniels approval, but with a T-shirt or tank underneath, would probably get by. Her favorite and most expensive purchase was a black leather belt with a big silver buckle covered in rhinestones in the shape of a big rose. Drew thought that it was unique enough to become her signature piece.

“Well, one thing you won’t have to worry about,” Dani assured her, “is that I won’t be bugging you to borrow any of the things you bought. They’re all yours.”

Their time was up so they hurried to the exit door to find Mrs. Daniels already waiting there for them. As they slipped into the car she asked, “Well, was your search successful?”

“Oh, yeah! Mom, I found some really cute things,” the ever-excited Drew told her mom.

“Yeah, real cute,” Dani said, rolling her eyes.

Sensing from Dani’s reaction that there might be something she needed to see in those bags, Mrs. Daniels said, “Great. Then we can have our own private fashion show when we get home.”

“Sure, Mom. No problem.”


* * * * *


After dinner, Mrs. Daniels remembered that she hadn’t checked out Drew’s purchases yet. “Drew, why don’t you get those things that you bought so we can make sure that everything is acceptable for you to wear.”

“Mom, I know the rules and I followed them. I don’t see what the concern is.”

“There’s no real concern, honey; but I’d appreciate if you don’t argue with me and just humor me. I am only looking out for your best interests.”

“Okay, Okay, I’ll go get them.” Drew left to get her bags from her room. She stomped down the hall, careful not to be disrespectful but made sure that they knew she wasn’t too happy.

Plopping her bags down on the couch, Drew waited for the verdict. Her mom wasn’t too happy at all when she saw how small and short some of the shirts were. Drew said, “Hold on, Mom. Before you say no, let me try them on.”

Skeptically, Mrs. Daniels agreed to reserve her judgment until she had a chance to see the items on Drew.

After Drew had the first outfit on, Mrs. Daniels realized that they were layering pieces and that the shorter items were worn on top to reveal the layers beneath. “Well, now, that’s not so bad. But, Drew, you have to promise me that I’m not going to catch you wearing those clothes alone or in anyway that shows your belly.”

“I already know that, Mom.”

Mrs. Daniels raised her eyebrows, waiting.

“Okay, I promise, Mom. Really.”

“Well, then, everything is fine; and I especially like the belt you bought. It’s definitely a unique piece.”

Dani had been sitting quietly on the other side of the room, watching the process and waiting for the verdict. She quietly got up and went to her room, softly closed the door, and got ready for bed. She wasn’t too happy, but she didn’t really know what it was that was bugging her.

“Too many changes,” she whispered as she drifted off to sleep.

Truth or Dare and All That Glitters by Nicole O'Dell (Book Reviews)


Title: Truth or Dare
Author: Nicole O'Dell
Publisher: Barbour


First sentence: The first bright yellow light of day was starting to peek through the blinds covering her window.


This book was about four girls - best friends - just starting 8th grade. Just having a daughter graduate from 8th grade myself a couple of months ago, these girls seemed more like 6th graders to me than 8th graders. It was very hard for me to relate to them as 8th graders. Now, maybe my daughter just grew up a lot in the last year and I am forgetting what she was like at the beginning of the year. But - with that being said - there is also the argument that in order to teach the lesson that the author was going for, it was better to keep things simple. Let's get on to what I really liked about the book.

The lesson was wonderful and put in a language that a young girl could understand. It talked about the line between right and wrong - and to be careful how close we tread to that line. As you allow yourself to be more exposed to sinful behaviour, that over time, it won't appear so bad and you will be more likely to give into temptation. It also touches on the "guilty by association" and how even if you are a Christian, but it "looks" like you were doing something, that people are going to think you are a hypocrite.

When the book gets right to the big decision making point the reader has 2 choices - do the right thing for one ending - or do the wrong thing and read the other ending. I think this aspect of the book would also appeal to the teen reader as it would give them a feeling of control over what the characters do.

So, despite my initial misgivings, I found this book to contain a wonderful lesson - one that, even as an adult, was good to be reminded of!




Title: All That Glitters
Author: Nicole O'Dell
Publisher: Barbour


First sentence: A fancy sports car on one side and a shiny, brand-new SUV on the other, Mrs. Daniels slid her car into a parking spot at the mall.

Again, I had the same issues with this one as I did with the first one. It was about sisters - twins - Dani and Drew who where freshman in high school. Some of the things that seemed surprising to them in this book, I might have been surprised by 25 years ago - but I don't think that kids these days are as sheltered in school as we hope.

The lesson in this book had to do with letting go of your own will for your life and letting God be in control. Again, I found the presentation of it to be perfect for the young adult age group - without being in your face, pushy. The twins have begun to take separate paths were friends/boyfriends are concerned. When the big decision comes - after winning a big game - does Drew lie to her parents and go to the party with her boyfriend at a home with no parents? or does she go home with her parents and tell them what has been going on? Well, that would be the reader's decision!

I think these books would be great book group reads for YA girls - or maybe even as a Bible study tool of some sort. They are not long - less than 200 pages. Oh, I almost forgot - at the end of each book contract that the reader can sign - stating that they have learned whatever the lesson from the book was - then there is a prayer and a place for the reader to sign with a witness - someone to hold them accountable!

Truth or Dare
Publisher/Publication Date: Barbour Books, August 2009
ISBN: 978-1-60260-399-8
192 pages




All That Glitters
Publisher/Publication Date: Barbour Books, August 2009
ISBN: 978-1-60260-400-1
192 pages

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Kid's Corner: Featuring Dalton James, age 8



Dalton James is an eight-year-old second-grader at Woodland Elementary School in Oak Ridge. He is a first-degree black belt in Tae Kwon Do, enjoys basketball and baseball andhas run five 5K runs. In 2008, he published "The Sneakiest Pirates" (Outskirts Press), and sold it as part of a fundraiser for his school library that has so far raised about $2,700. Dalton is keeping his career options open, and hopes to be a pediatrician, policeman, fireman or karate instructor when he grows up. (Outskirts Press)



















The Sneakiest Pirates and The Heroes of Googley Woogley by Dalton James


Both of these books were written and illustrated by Dalton. My son loves having me read these to him and is always asking about the little boy who drew/colored all the pictures. They are both very cute stories featuring "Pete" and his dad "James" (which is odd as my hubbies name just happens to be Peter James - so my son loves reading about a "boy" named Pete!)

In The Sneakiest Pirates they are Pirate Pete and Scurvy James and in The Heroes of Googley Woogley they are Space Boy Pete and Space Man James. Both of these books show great imagination and a fun adventure! Having them illustrated by Dalton has sparked something in my son as he is always wanting to color now - something he hadn't shown much interest in before.

Good luck Dalton! Hope to see more books in the future! (A third in the series, Super Pete Saves the Day, is currently being illustrated. And Mudhogs is planned as an unrelated children's book about one of Dalton's favorite subjects - pigs)






Randy Sue Coburn - Author Interview


Everyone - Please help me welcome Randy Sue Coburn to Books and Needlepoint today! She has graciously answered some questions about herself and her new book - A Better View of Paradise.

1. A Better View of Paradise is your third novel - can you give us a quick synopsis?

This book is about love, death, baseball, with a little intervention from Pele, the Hawaiian volcano goddess, thrown in for spice. Stephanie Pollack, better known as Stevie, is a landscape architect who’s been calibrated to achieve by Hank, her difficult, demanding father. When Hank is diagnosed with a terminal illness, she drops everything to be with him at her childhood home on the island of Kaua`i. Hank’s impending death, on top of her recent career catastrophe and romantic disaster, force Stevie into finally trying to live up to her secret Hawaiian name—Makalani, eyes of heaven. Along the way in this shared journey of contention and healing, grief and resurrection, Stevie’s heart opens not only to her father and the eccentric cousin she never knew she had till now, but to a man who challenges all her constricted notions of intimacy and life’s possibilities. As for baseball, Hank is a lifelong Cubs fan, and one of Stevie’s dreams for her father is that before he dies, he’ll see his team play in the World Series. Like Hank, my own father was a lifelong Cubs fan, and in the aftermath of his death, I wanted to focus on the father-daughter bond, and its profound influence on a woman’s life.



2. Redbook Magazine chose this novel as their Red Hot Summer Read for 2009. How did that come about and how did it feel?

Since Redbook’s key editors considered a number of novels, it was gratifying to hear that what impressed them most was the quality of writing in Paradise. Years ago, when I was just starting to write fiction, I submitted one of my first short stories to Redbook, and it was rejected in such a kind and encouraging way that I still have the letter. So I’m not exaggerating when I say that having an entire novel of mine endorsed by Redbook, which has published so much wonderful fiction over the years, is a dream come true.


3. It has been 10 years since you published your first novel, Remembering Jody ; have there been big changes in your life or in the way you write since that first one was published? Is there anything that you learned back then that influenced A Better View of Paradise?

Maybe the biggest change in my life since Jody is that I’ve been able to spend more time working on novels and less time writing screenplays and teaching writing to subsidize writing my novels. This is huge for me, since I’m not a great multi-tasker. Also, I’ve benefited enormously from the input of editors and fellow novelist friends. I love being part of a community of writers, and that’s an aspect of my life that’s changed a lot since Jody, when I was just beginning to befriend other writers of make-believe. I interviewed dozens of different authors in my other life as a journalist, everyone from Margaret Atwood and Judy Blume to John Irving and Tom Robbins. And while that was enormously educational, writing in the trenches with your pals has a much more direct and daily impact.

4. This book is set in Hawaii - Did you spend much time/any time there while writing it? (I know I would have!)

I was fortunate enough to be able to spend time in Kauai while I was researching the book, but before I ever knew I would use the island as a major setting for a novel I had been there a half a dozen different times, so I had experiences from those visits to draw on as well.


5. Where do your ideas for your novels generally come from? Are characters ever based on you or anyone you know?

I always end up writing about relationships that reflect my own experiences, from growing up Jewish in the South (Remembering Jody), obsessive love (Owl Island), or the death of a difficult, demanding father (Paradise). The seeds of characters often come from people I’ve known, but then they sprout off in different, invented directions.


6. Do you have much input in the titles or covers of your books?

None of my own working titles have been as good as the titles they end up with. As for the covers, I can take no credit for the fact that each one has been better than the last, but since I equate water with emotion and the emotional lives of my characters are so important to me, it makes me happy that water is an element in them all.


7. Let's lighten it up a bit now - What would your favorite holiday destination be and why?

Either Paris, because it’s such a stimulating city with a female sensuality and the food and wine are so wonderful, or Kauai, because I love the island’s splendor and spirit.

8. Do you have any favorite books or authors that have influenced you?

Oh, there are so very many that if I started listing I might go nuts! What I’ve tried to do is write the kind of relationship-oriented novels that I’ve always loved reading, from Anne of Green Gables to Anne Tyler, from Jane Austen to Richard Russo, Stephanie Kallos, and John Irving.


9. While on this tour, has there been any comments or questions that have taken you by surprise?

I’ve been surprised in the best possible way by how generous the appreciation has been from actual readers who can relate the challenges of Stevie’s life to their own.

10. Do you have anything you are working on currently? Is there anything that you would like to add for my readers?

I’m just beginning to write my next novel, and hope that if your readers enjoy Paradise—or even if they have a bone to pick—they’ll let me know. I can be contacted through my website, http://randysuecoburn.com.

Thank you Randy Sue. I can't wait to hear about your next novel!




First Wild Card Tour: Not So Fast by Ann Kroeker

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!



My thoughts: I highly recommend this book to all families who sometimes feel like they don't even have time to stop and take a breath! It came at the perfect time for me, as we are "gearing back up" for another school year. It reminded me of all those things that I used to do as a child to fill up the time that my kids are missing! I loved the "slow notes" at the end of each chapter. Especially the one that started - Make a list of everything you would do if you had the time. I am going to do that one with my family this weekend and see what we come up with!



Today's Wild Card author is:


and the book:


Not So Fast

David C. Cook; New edition (August 1, 2009)


ABOUT THE AUTHOR:



Ann Kroeker is an acclaimed writer and speaker committed to encouraging and inspiring women as they face the demands of daily living. She is the author of The Contemplative Mom and has contributed to the award-winning Experiencing the Passion of Jesus.

Visit the author's website.

Product Details:

List Price: $14.99
Paperback: 240 pages
Publisher: David C. Cook; New edition (August 1, 2009)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1434768880
ISBN-13: 978-1434768889

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:


1: What Are We Missing Out On?


Just before eight o’clock on a Friday morning in January 2007, renowned classical violinist Joshua Bell pulled his instrument from its case and launched into Bach’s “Chaconne.” For this special performance, he wasn’t onstage at The Kennedy Center or Carnegie Hall. This particular morning, at the request of the Washington Post, he stood against a bare wall in the indoor arcade of a DC Metro stop, dressed in jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and a baseball cap.


Wearing such ordinary attire in such a heavily trafficked, unremarkable public spot, playing for average Joes and Janes on their way to work, he’d be easy to mistake for just another nondescript street musician trying to make a buck.


He’d be easy to ignore, that is, if you didn’t pick up on the dazzling sounds of this classical music superstar. Joshua Bell—one of the finest violinists of our time performing some of the greatest music ever written, who only three days earlier performed in Boston’s Symphony Hall where “pretty good” seats went for $100—was playing a bustling Metro stop for free. Incognito. The Post arranged this as an “experiment in context, perception and priorities… in a banal setting at an inconvenient time, would beauty transcend?”1


Ah, would beauty touch people’s souls? Would they respond to the music? Would they even notice he was there? Would large crowds gather to take in the world-class performance placed directly in their paths?


During the forty-three minutes he played, 1,097 people passed by.


Only seven stopped to hang around and listen.


Most scurried past, minds full of pressing appointments and projects due. Maybe they noticed, maybe they didn’t. Perhaps they noticed but didn’t want to give any money, so they lowered their heads and continued without making eye contact.


Reporters gathered a few stories. They interviewed those seven who stopped as well as many who didn’t.


One who didn’t stop stood out to me because she was a mom. I could easily put myself in her shoes. Bell was a couple of minutes into “Ave Maria” when this mom, Sheron Parker, stepped off the escalator with her preschooler in tow and rushed through the arcade. She walked briskly, pulling along her child by the hand. She faced a time crunch—she needed to get her son, Evan, to his teacher, and then rush back to work for a training class.


As they passed through, Evan was instantly drawn to the music. He kept twisting and turning around to get a look at Joshua Bell, but mom was in a hurry. With no time to stop, she did what any of us might do—she positioned herself between Evan and Bell, blocking Evan’s view. As she rushed him out the door, three-year old Evan was still leaning around to snatch one last peek at the violinist.


A reporter spoke with Parker afterward, asking if she remembered anything unusual. She recalled, “There was a musician, and my son was intrigued. He wanted to pull over and listen, but I was rushed for time.” When told what she walked out on, she laughed. “Evan is very smart!”



But Parker wasn’t the only parent who hustled her child along. The paper studied the video and concluded:


There was no ethnic or demographic pattern to distinguish the people who stayed to watch

Bell, or the ones who gave money, from that vast majority who hurried on past, unheeding.

Whites, blacks and Asians, young and old, men and women, were represented in all three

groups. But the behavior of one demographic remained absolutely consistent. Every single

time a child walked past, he or she tried to stop and watch. And every single time, a parent

scooted the kid away.2


Every single child that passed the music tried to stop. Every child yearned to listen. To see the bow dance across the strings. The children instinctively wanted to bask in the beauty and delight of the near-miraculous sounds that poured out of that Stradivarius violin and into their otherwise hustled-and-bustled everyday lives.


And every single parent scooted the child along.


No time to stop and enjoy the beauty, kids; we have appointments to keep and money to make. We’re running late. Let’s go. My boss will be waiting. Move along.


It could have been me. At one point, early in parenting, I might have passed right by on my way to something I thought was more important. As I wise up and embrace a slower life, I like to think

I’d choose to stop, that I would have dropped everything and had my children sitting in a semicircle around the musician. Absorbed. Transfixed.


Those parents have better excuses than I would have had. They’re working hard, rushing to make it to the office on time. Who can linger at a Metro stop listening to a street violinist and risk showing up late to an intense DC government workplace? They have to keep going, keep moving, watch the clock, and stay on schedule. There’s no time for spontaneity, and no time to alter the plan to accommodate beauty and linger with it.


Taking in art, music, or stories takes time. It takes attention. Appreciating beauty requires a degree of stillness.


I thought of a trip we took to Paris on our way to visit family. I wanted our girls to see the Louvre, but we had very little time. So we embarked on a compressed, rushed, American-style “highlights” tour: Hurry, kids!


Run to see Winged Victory, snap a picture.


Rush to Venus de Milo—snap-snap-snap.


Quick, get in the long line to see Mona!


Enter the crowded, hot room.


Philippe lifted up each child above the crowd to peek at the famous lady locked behind bulletproof glass.


“Can you see it?” he asked.


“Yes.”


“Take a good look.”


“I see it.”


“Okay.” Next kid, same questions, same responses.


What Are We Missing Out On?


“You saw the painting?” we asked one more time before exiting.


“For sure?”


“Yes, Papa! I saw it!”


And we left.


“That’s it?” they asked after were out of the room.


“What do you mean, ‘That’s it?’” I replied. “That’s It. That’s the Mona Lisa!”


“But it was so small,” one of the girls remarked.


“I didn’t see it,” said another.


“The room was roasting hot.”


“I need a drink of water.”


“Why were people taking all those pictures with a flash when the sign said not to?”


Yep. That was it. Those are their rushed and hurried memories. They didn’t really see anything. Basically, they were in the same room as the Mona Lisa. That’s all they can really say about it, because we had no time to linger with one of the most enigmatic works of art in the entire world. We had to move along and make room for the next herd of tourists.


While we rushed past some statues carved by Michelangelo, I thought back to the long hallway that led to the Mona Lisa. How many other da Vincis did we pass on our way? There were two side by side that we could have stopped and studied, as there was no crowd right there. I did pause in front of them briefly. “Hey!” I announced to my family, “These are da Vincis, too!”


We could have stayed there as long as we wished—no crowds—but we were in a hurry, so we scurried along down the great, long hall.


Americans in the Louvre. Quelle horreur!


Yet, what beauty we brush past every single day—and scoot our children past, as well! They learn, eventually, to ignore the impulse to respond, to revel. They learn to be efficient tourists; diligent students

hustled from one class period to another; and eventually busy and reliable employees answering e-mails and juggling multiple projects and reports. Over time, we schedule spontaneity right out of them. Without meaning to, we teach them that beauty isn’t worth our time or attention.


Each child is born with eyes to see so clearly the beauty all around and hear rhythm in our speech; in their youth, children’s ears aren’t yet deadened to the music all around. They hear the mockingbird serenading them from a telephone pole. They stop to stare at frost patterns on window panes. If we would stop tugging them away, they would admire the Mona Lisa and Joshua Bell. Their hearts are still open; their minds alert. They would stop. They would linger.


They just need us to slow down.


Elizabeth Barrett Browning wrote a poem that included these lines:


Earth’s crammed with heaven,

And every common bush afire with God:

But only he who sees, takes off his shoes;

The rest sit round it, and pluck blackberries.


I used to think: Oh, that is so true.


Not anymore.


I’ve concluded that few adults even see the blackberries, let alone the common bush, and certainly not the fire of God. I wonder if the only ones left who have a chance of seeing—the only ones who will even think to take off their shoes—are the children. We grown-ups are too busy running, racing, rushing to even see the small faces lit with love and wonder, looking up at us in the busy Metro, asking to stay and listen to the pretty music.


I’m certain Joshua Bell won’t be at the corner bus stop of our suburban neighborhood serenading us incognito as we drop off our kids and head to work. But what did I pass by this week? How much did I miss?


I’ll never know. I can’t know, because it’s already gone. But, like mercies new every morning, tomorrow holds more beauty. Will I see it?


Jesus talked about those who see, but don’t see: “Though seeing, they do not see; though hearing, they do not hear or understand” (Matt. 13:13).


He meant it spiritually, of course. He quoted from Isaiah, saying:


For this people’s heart has become calloused;

they hardly hear with their ears,

and they have closed their eyes.

Otherwise they might see with their eyes,

hear with their ears,

understand with their hearts

and turn, and I would heal them. (Matthew 13:15)



Is this, on some level, a description of the people in the Metro? Of me? Does this capture most of our stressed-out, high-speed culture? Are our hearts calloused by the relentless pace and pressure of our

schedules? Are we missing the beauty of Christ?


Maybe we can’t see … or, maybe we don’t want to see.


We hardly hear with our ears. We’ve closed our eyes.


We miss Joshua Bell when he’s only four feet away from us playing Bach.


Worst of all, we miss Yeshua, as well, even though He is right with us, inviting us to know Him.


Open our minds, Lord, to comprehend Your truth.


Open our hearts, Lord, to believe.


And slow us down, to take it all in.


But blessed are your eyes because they see,

and your ears because they hear

(Matthew 13:16).


I propose that we practice pausing at the end of each chapter—to slow, to pray, to begin to see—starting right now. Take a deep breath (which is an act of slowing), and peruse the Slow Notes that follow. You’re welcome to abruptly slam on the brakes, but it’s probably more realistic to ease into a slower pace as you learn to notice—and enjoy—some of the little things lost in the blur of a frenzied life.


Slow Notes


Ask the Lord to open your family’s eyes and ears to see and hear something from Him today. This is a great time to begin praying specifically about how the Lord wants your family to slow down. Ask Him to keep your eyes open to see Him more clearly in this crazy, sped-up world we’re trying to evaluate. And then be on the lookout for what He reveals.


Consider trying out one or more of the slow-down ideas below that stand out to you.


• Take a trip to an art museum. Stare at something beautiful. Stare for a long, long time.

• Go outside with your kids and look at things with a magnifying glass: a violet, clover, an ant, some bark.

• Sketch something. Paint something. Sit with the kids to create art that takes your full attention: Try to copy a great work of art. Blob color onto thick paper like Van Gogh. Draw and shade some people or birds like Leonardo da Vinci in his notebooks.

• Borrow a telescope to look at some stars.

• Take close-up photos with your camera and try unusual angles to see everyday details a little differently.

• Write a poem based on something detailed that you observed closely.

• Borrow a Joshua Bell CD from the library. Listen to what all those people at the Metro stop passed by.

• Tell your children the story of the Metro concert, and then ask them to listen to the CD as well. What do they think? Write it down.


Live from the Slow Zone: Ann Voskamp


We hear them far off in the woods, just as the sun sinks further down, and I stop, like you do when the world slips up behind and surprises you, and my son can’t believe it either, so we stand there and listen long and neither one of us can stop smiling.


The frogs have returned.


Then, after a bit, he and the dog go crashing off through the quiet of dusk coming down, worn carpet of leaves rustling as they bound through, both boy and Lab questing for game and excitement, but his little sister and I, we just stand there, having already found it. For hadn’t I mentioned that the frogs had returned?


On pond’s rim, she, her small fingers entwined through mine, stands wordlessly. A symphony of sound, trilling low and deep, fills the spaces between the trees, lifts us too. The light falls warm on our winter-faces, and this tattered snow still hugs water’s edge. But that sound. From where? It is like it’s the water itself, a looking glass of trunks and limbs, that croons.


At first, when I am still looking with everyday eyes, I don’t notice them. It takes time for eyes to adjust to stillness, to slow and really see. And then, they are, on the far side, these glinting eyes flickering up through waters cold and murky. The peepers are back and we see them.


I want front row seats. Can we pick our way across the swamp and closer? She squeezes my hand tight and across the bog we splash.


In a flash, the pond snaps shut. All is soundless. Just glassy reflection of branches pointing to that curve of muted moon come early.


She and I swish swash further out, as far as we can go. Then wait.


On this isle of tangled grass, the water slowly rises up to boot ankles. A red-tailed hawk swoops and soars, his wings motionless on the currents. Moon rides higher, tailing sun dipping. We say nothing, this Little One and I, but watch swamp’s mirror, waiting stock-still for singers emerging. Bungler Lab charges up, smashing reflection of anticipating faces.


“Go, Boaz!” she whispers in a loud lisp. “We waiting for the frogs to thing!” From within the woods somewhere, boy whistles and dog ricochets off.


Again, we wait.


Then one by one, they pop to the light. We catch our breath and dare not move. Then tentatively it comes, this chorus, then crescendo, throaty yet gilded, and she squeezes my hand and we smile, spellbound.


Long we soak in these songs on golden pond.


And then, when our toes are cold and the shadows stretch to fading dark, it’s time to go.


“We leaving the frogs, now?” she whispers up to me.


True, I too could stay here forever, but yes, time to go home. Things to do.



We splash through the water, feet seeking islands of matted grass. The sudden hush turns our heads. She’s soundless, the swamp, blinked silent by our sloshing.


I scoop her up and tickle her ear with what I’m endlessly learning and relearning:


“Sometimes we only hear life sing when we still.”3

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Dark Hunger by Rita Herron (Partial Review)


I just wanted to get something quick up tonight as my review was due today on this one! I am kicking myself that I did not read the first book of this Demonborn series. Not because you need to for understanding - but it is just that good! It has been a surprisingly quick read - please stay tuned tomorrow for my complete synopsis and review. In the meantime please visit my other posts for Dark Hunger which include the book trailer, the other sites to visit, my giveaway and some diary letters from the Valtrez brothers mom!

And don't forget - my full review will be up tomorrow!

ARC Arrival: Laced with Magic by Barbara Bretton

Laced with Magic by Barbara Bretton

Publisher: Berkley Trade

I received this book for a Pump Up Your Book Tour!

About the book: In Casting Spells, USA Today bestselling author Barbara Bretton introduced knit shop owner and sorcerer's daughter Chloe Hobbs. Now, in this magical follow-up, Chloe, who's still getting a handle on her powers, is about to discover that love may not conquer all, but a nasty Fae certainly can. . .

Ever have the feeling that the fates finally got it right? That's how I felt when I met Luke MacKenzie. And no one could have convinced me otherwise--not the trolls, selkies, or spirits who also call Sugar Maple, Vermont, home. But since I live in a town that thrives on secrets, why am I surprised that the man I love has a few of his own? Because out of nowhere his ex-wife has suddenly shown up, claiming to see the spirit of their daughter, Steffie--a daughter I knew nothing about.

Now it seems Steffie's spirit is being held hostage by a certain Fae leader. And if I weave a spell to free her spirit, my nemesis will also be free--free to destroy my yarn shop, all of Sugar Maple, and everyone in it. But if I don't, Steffie won't be the only one spending eternity in hell. I'll be joining her, cursed with a broken heart. . . (back cover)

About the author: Barbara Bretton is the USA Today bestselling, award-winning author of more than forty books. She currently has over ten million copies in print around the world. Her works have been translated into twelve languages in more than twenty countries.

Barbara lives in New Jersey but loves to spend as much time as possible in Maine with her husband, walking the rocky beaches and dreaming up plots for upcoming books. (back cover)

Laced With Magic
Publisher/Publication Date: Berkley Trade, August 2009
ISBN: 978-0-425-22752-7
352 pages



ARC Arrival: Detectives Don't Wear Seat Belts

Detectives Don't Wear Seat Belts by Cici McNair

Publisher: Center Street

I received this book from Miriam at Hachette Books. Thank you Miriam!

About the book: Growing up in Mississippi, Cici McNair was always more the tomboy her mother supported than the Southern belle her father demanded. She escaped her suffocating upbringing the first chance she had to travel the world. Whether working at the Vatican in Rome or consorting with a gunrunner in Haiti, she lived a life of international adventure. When Cici finds herself in New York, divorced, broke, and fashionably starving to death in a Madison Avenue apartment, she impulsively decides to become a private detective.

But, as Cici soon learns, the world of P.I.s is tight-knit and made up almost exclusively of former law enforcement officers. By nature, they are a highly suspicious group and are especially wary of a newcomer with an untraceable past. Diligently working her way through the Yellow Pages, doggedly pursuing the slightest lead, Cici is finally hired by a private investigator willing to take a chance. The next day she's working side by side with a pair of seasoned detectives and a skip tracer who is scary to meet but like silk on the phone. She quickly realizes she'll need all her energy and wits to succeed in this new world.

Being a private investigator is as exciting and liberating as Cici ever dreamed, from creating a false identity on the spot on her first case in the field to surviving adrenaline-rushing car chases. Working with law enforcement, she goes undercover, dealing with the ruthless Born to Kill gang in Chinatown and the Middle Eastern counterfeiters west of Broadway. A detailed account of the hidden world and real-life cases of a P.I., this action-packed memoir is as entertaining as any detective novel you've ever read. (Amazon)

About the author: Cici McNair was born and raised in Mississippi. She has worked as a news writer, on-air newscaster, and producer of documentaries and has published three novels under the name Clarissa McNair. Cici now lives in Philadelphia, where she heads her own private investigation firm, Green Star Investigations. (back cover)

Detectives Don't Wear Seat Belts
Publisher/Publication Date: Center Street, Sept 23, 2009
ISBN: 978-1-59995-187-4
368 pages




Bloody Bookaholic's Mega Palooza Contest!

I just came across this fantastic giveaway and had to share it with all of you! Bloody Bookaholic is giving away all these books!

- Signed copy of Dreaming Anastasia + Goodies
- Hardback Another Faust
- Hardback Prophecy of the Sisters
- ARC Eyes Like Stars + Backstage Pass Bracelet and some Theater-Theme Swag.
- ARC The Dark Divine
- ARC Hush Hush
- ARC Give Up The Ghost
- ARC Ash
- ARC Behind Every Illusion
- ARC Shiver
- ARC The Demon's Lexicon
- ARC Betraying Season
- ARC Any Given Doomsday
- Dead Until Dark
- Gossip Girl 1st Book
- The Black Tatto + poster
- Vampire Academy
- Frost Bite, a Vampire Academy Novel.
- Shadow Kiss, a Vampire Academy Novel.
- Blood Promise, a Vampire Academy Novel.

She is going to have 3 winners:

Winner number One gets to pick 7 books out of the bunch.

Winner number Two gets 3 books out of the bunch.

Winner number Three gets 1 book out of the bunch.

Only the first winner gets to choose his or her prize.
For the other two she gets to choose what they get.

There are lots of ways to enter so get over there and get going! The contest ends Sept 27 (my daughter's birthday and boy would she love some of these books!) But please tell her you heard about the contest from me!!!


Waiting on Wednesday: Last Night in Twisted River

This week's pre-publication "can't-wait-to-read" selection is:




Last Night in Twisted River: A Novel by John Irving

Publisher/Publication Date: Random House, Oct 27, 2009

About the book: In 1954, in the cookhouse of a logging and sawmill settlement in northern New Hampshire, an anxious twelve-year-old boy mistakes the local constable’s girlfriend for a bear. Both the twelve-year-old and his father become fugitives, forced to run from Coos County–to Boston, to southern Vermont, to Toronto–pursued by the implacable constable. Their lone protector is a fiercely libertarian logger, once a river driver, who befriends them.

In a story spanning five decades, Last Night in Twisted River–John Irving’s twelfth novel–depicts the recent half-century in the United States as “a living replica of Coos County, where lethal hatreds were generally permitted to run their course.” From the novel’s taut opening sentence–“The young Canadian, who could not have been more than fifteen, had hesitated too long”–to its elegiac final chapter, Last Night in Twisted River is written with the historical authenticity and emotional authority of The Cider House Rules and A Prayer for Owen Meany. It is also as violent and disturbing a story as John Irving’s breakthrough bestseller, The World According to Garp.

What further distinguishes Last Night in Twisted River is the author’s unmistakable voice–the inimitable voice of an accomplished storyteller. Near the end of this moving novel, John Irving writes: “We don’t always have a choice how we get to know one another. Sometimes, people fall into our lives cleanly–as if out of the sky, or as if there were a direct flight from Heaven to Earth–the same sudden way we lose people, who once seemed they would always be part of our lives.” (Amazon)



About the author: John Irving published his first novel, Setting Free the Bears, in 1968. He has been nominated for a National Book Award three times–winning once, in 1980, for the novel The World According to Garp. He also received an O. Henry Award, in 1981, for the short story “Interior Space.” In 1992, Mr. Irving was inducted into the National Wrestling Hall of Fame in Stillwater, Oklahoma. In 2000, he won the Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay for The Cider House Rules–a film with seven Academy Award nominations. In 2001, he was elected to the American Academy of Arts and Letters. Last Night in Twisted River is John Irving’s twelfth novel. (Amazon)

Last Night in Twisted River
Publisher/Publication Date: Random House, Oct 27, 2009
ISBN: 978-1400063840
576 pages



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