Making Waves by Lorna Seilstad - Blog Tour Sept 12 - 18

Making Waves

Lake Manawa, Book 1

by Lorna Seilstad

(Touring Sept 12 - 18)

Sun, summer, and a scrumptious sailing instructor.  What more could a girl want?

When spunky Marguerite Westing discovers that her family will spend the summer of 1895 at Lake Manawa, Iowa, she couldn't be more thrilled.  It's the perfect way to escape her agonizingly boring suitor, Roger Gordon.  It's also where she stumbles upon two new loves:  sailing, and sailing instructor Trip Andrews.

But this summer of fun turns to turmoil as her father's secrets threaten to ruin the family forever.  Will free-spirited Marguerite marry Roger to save her father's name and fortune?  Or will she follow her heart -- even if it means hurting the family she loves?

Full of sharp wit and a blossoming romance, Making Waves will whisk you away to a breezy lakeside summer holiday.

About the author:  Lorna Seilstad is a history buff, antique collector, and freelance graphic designer. A former high school English and journalism teacher, she has won several online writing awards and is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers. She lives in and draws her setting from Iowa. This is her first novel.

Available September 2010 at your favorite bookseller from Revell, a division of Baker Publishing Group.

Making Waves

Publisher/Publication Date: Revell, Sept 2010

ISBN: 978-0-8007-3445-9

362 pages

Hell, Yeah by Carolyn Brown (Book Review)

Title: Hell, Yeah
(Honky Tonk series, Book 2)
Author: Carolyn Brown
Publisher: Sourcebooks Casablanca


My synopsis: What is it with the O'Dell women and abusive boyfriends?  Cathy O'Dell is now the owner of the Honky Tonk.  She had taken refuge there when her fiance had hit her.  After her first moment of shock, she fought back.  After packing her bags and quitting her job, Cathy set out for her cousin, Daisy's Honky Tonk.

On New Year's Eve, Travis Henry walks into the bar before midnight, grabs the first available girl he sees during the countdown and plants one on her.  That girl is Cathy O'Dell and she is none too happy to be kissed without permission!  What riles her even more, is that the more she sees of Travis, the more she wants a repeat of that kiss!

As chance would have it, Travis is an oilman and they set up a drilling operation right next to the Honky Tonk.  When their secretary gets hurt in a car accident, Cathy finds herself working in the trailer office from noon - 5pm. - A trailer which just happens to be Travis' house. In exchange though, Travis has to help bartend on Friday and Saturday nights.  Talk about making a deal with the devil! 

Travis and Cathy continue to get close - and then Cathy is kidnapped, by a couple of bumbling kidnappers, no less.  However, it sets off a chain of events that will change Travis' and Cathy's relationship.  But is that a good thing?

My thoughts:  I continue to like this series.  Some of the minor characters in the first book (I Love This Bar) have resurfaced here, but Mrs. Brown has also introduced a whole new cast of characters.  I can't wait to see which direction book 3 will take us in.

~I received a copy of this book from Sourcebooks in exchange for my review.~

Hell, Yeah

Publisher/Publication Date: Sourcebooks, Aug 2010

ISBN: 978-1-4022-3927-4

351 pages

I have winners of the last 10 contests - including BlogFest!

33 - Tore

10 - Benita

6 - Linda Kish

10 - ibeeg

14 - holdenj

32 - Jill

11 - carolsnotebook

21 - anonymous/headlessfowl

42 - Linda Henderson

16 - Beth

19 - Rebecca Graham

2 - Martha Lawson

29 - misusedinnocence

3 - DarcyO

9 - ossmcalc/Christine

12 - Rebecca Graham

6 - BookSake

15 - Chey

12 - Cecile

31 - tanya904

Blogfest winners:  I want to thank all the participants in blogfest - both hosts and entrants! I had a lot of fun visiting a TON of new blogs - my feed reader is exploding!  It amazes me how many bloggers I find every day.  A big thank you to all my followers both old and new!  I hope that I can get you to stick around!

I had one small rule for blogfest and that was for a google follow - I figured if I am giving away boxes of books - on my dollar - the least I could ask for was a follow - Unfortunately the first winner that I drew could not be verified as a google follower so I had to generate a new number.  And that was:

87 - Jodi - confirmed

92 - Sue/okibi_insanity

151 - jellybelly82158 - confirmed

Congrats to all!

Once winners have been emailed - they will have 48 hours to reply - at that time, any unclaimed books will be given away on twitter. (except for Blogfest - a new winner will be drawn)

It's Monday! (ok - it's Tuesday. . .) What Are You Reading? (9-13-10)

What are you reading on Mondays is hosted by Sheila at One Person's Journey - You can hook up with the Mr. Linky there with your own post - but be sure and let me know what you are reading too!

A day late and a dollar short is going to be my motto this month.  I just can't seem to do anything on time!

Currently Reading:
Song of the Silent Harp by BJ Hoff

Fragile: A Novel by Lisa Unger

The Darkest Edge of Dawn (Charlie Madigan, Book 2) by Kelly Gay

Bathroom Book:

Hush, Hush by Becca Fitzpatrick (I am really liking this one - but am leaving it in the bathroom because I have discovered my daughter sometimes reads the books I leave in there. . . I am going to get her reading yet!)

Audio Book:

The Scarecrow by Michael Connelly

Worst Case by James Patterson and Michael Ledwidge - only one disc left to this one.  It has been really good.  I love the narration!

New this week:
Katie Up and Down the Hall by Glenn Plaskin

Friday Mornings at Nine by Marilyn Brant

The Wake of Forgiveness by Bruce Machart
Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffenegger
Making Waves by Lorna Seilstad
Last to Die by Kate Brady

(Boy - I have a lot of reading to do this week!)

Books Reviewed Last Week:
Virginia's War: Tierra, Texas 1944 by Jack W. London
Seduced by the Wolf by Terry Spear

Books Waiting to Be Reviewed: (Yep - behind here as well. . .)

Choosing to See by Mary Beth Chapman
Medical Error by Richard Mabry, MD
Ah-Choo!: The Uncommon Life of Your Common Cold by Jennifer Ackerman

Hell, Yeah by Carolyn Brown

101 Things I Learned (TM) in Fashion School by Alfredo Cabrera

Heart of My Heart: 365 Reflections on the Magnitude and Meaning of Motherhood A Devotional by Kristin Armstrong

Meet Me in Dreamland: A Lu-Chu and Lena Book by Steven McKinney, Valerie McKinney

Masked edited by Lou Anders

Ready - Set - Read!

First Wild Card Tour: Song of the Silent Harp by BJ Hoff

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:

BJ Hoff

and the book:

Song of the Silent Harp (Book One in The Emerald Ballad series)

Harvest House Publishers (July 1, 2010)

***Special thanks to Karri James, Marketing Assistant, Harvest House Publishers for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

BJ Hoff’s bestselling historical novels continue to cross the boundaries of religion, language, and culture to capture a worldwide reading audience. Her books include Song of Erin and American Anthem and such popular series as The Riverhaven Years, The Mountain Song Legacy, and The Emerald Ballad. Hoff’s stories, although set in the past, are always relevant to the present. Whether her characters move about in small country towns or metropolitan areas, reside in Amish settlements or in coal company houses, she creates communities where people can form relationships, raise families, pursue their faith, and experience the mountains and valleys of life. BJ and her husband make their home in Ohio.



Visit the author's website.







Product Details:



List Price: $14.99

Paperback: 432 pages

Publisher: Harvest House Publishers (July 1, 2010)

Language: English

ISBN-10: 0736927883

ISBN-13: 978-0736927888



AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Daniel



Write his merits on your mind;

Morals pure and manners kind;

In his head, as on a hill,

Virtue placed her citadel.



William Drennan (1754–1820)



Killala, County Mayo (Western Ireland)

January, 1847



Ellie Kavanagh died at the lonesome hour of two o’clock in the morning—a time, according to the Old Ones, when many souls left their bodies with the turning of the tide. A small, gaunt specter with sunken eyes and a vacant stare, she died a silent death. The Hunger had claimed even her voice at the end. She was six years old, and the third child in the village of Killala to die that Friday.



Daniel kept the death watch with his mother throughout the evening. Tahg, his older brother, was too ill to sit upright, and with their da gone—killed in a faction fight late last October—it was for Daniel to watch over his little sister’s corpse and see to his mother.



The small body in the corner of the cold, dimly lit kitchen seemed less than human to Daniel; certainly it bore little resemblance to wee Ellie. Candles flickering about its head mottled the ghastly pallor of the skull-like face, and the small, parchment-thin hands clasping the Testament on top of the white sheet made Daniel think uneasily of claws. Even the colored ribbons adorning the sheet mocked his sister’s gray and lifeless body.



The room was thick with shadows and filled with weeping women. Ordinarily it would have been heavy with smoke as well, but the men in the village could no longer afford tobacco. The only food smells were faint: a bit of sour cheese, some onion, stale bread, a precious small basket of shellfish. There was none of the illegal poteen—even if potatoes had been available from which to distill the stuff, Grandfar Dan allowed no spirits inside the cottage; he and Daniel’s da had both taken the pledge some years before.



All the villagers who came and went said Ellie was laid out nicely. Daniel knew their words were meant to be a comfort, but he found them an offense. Catherine Fitzgerald had done her best in tidying the body—Catherine had no equal in the village when it came to attending at births or deaths—but still Daniel could see nothing at all nice about Ellie’s appearance.



He hated having to sit and stare at her throughout the evening, struggling to keep the sight of her small, wasted corpse from permanently imbedding itself in his mind. He was determined to remember his black-haired little sister as she had been before the Hunger, traipsing along behind him and chattering at his back to the point of exasperation.



Old Mary Larkin had come to keen, and her terrible shrieking wail now pierced the cottage. Squatting on the floor beside the low fire, Mary was by far the loudest of the women clustered around her. Her tattered skirt was drawn up almost over her head, revealing a torn and grimy red petticoat that swayed as her body twisted and writhed in the ancient death mime.



The woman’s screeching made Daniel’s skin crawl. He felt a sudden fierce desire to gag her and send her home. He didn’t think his feelings were disrespectful of his sister—Ellie had liked things quiet; besides, she had been half-afraid of Old Mary’s odd ways.



Ordinarily when Mary Larkin keened the dead, the entire cottage would end up in a frenzy. Everyone knew she was the greatest keener from Killala to Castlebar. At this moment, however, as Daniel watched the hysterical, withered crone clutch the linen sheet and howl with a force that would turn the thunder away, he realized how weak were the combined cries of the mourners. The gathering was pitifully small for a wake—six months ago it would have been twice the size, but death had become too commonplace to attract much attention. And it was evident from the subdued behavior in the room that the Hunger had sapped the strength of even the stoutest of them.



Daniel’s head snapped up with surprise when he saw Grandfar Dan haul himself off the stool and go trudging over to the howling women grouped around Ellie’s body. He stood there a few moments until at last Mary Larkin glanced up and saw him glaring at her. Behind the stringy wisps of white hair falling over her face, her black eyes looked wild and fierce with challenge. Daniel held his breath, half-expecting her to lash out physically at his grandfather when he put a hand to her shoulder and began speaking to her in the Irish. But after a moment she struggled up from the floor and, with a display of dignity that Daniel would have found laughable under different circumstances, smoothed her skirts and made a gesture to her followers. The lot of them got up and huddled quietly around the dying fire, leaving the cottage quiet again, except for the soft refrain of muffled weeping.



Daniel’s mother had sat silent and unmoving throughout the entire scene; now she stirred. “Old Dan should not have done that,” Nora said softly. “He should not have stopped them from the keening.”



Daniel turned to look at her, biting his lip at her appearance. His mother was held in high esteem for her good looks. “Nora Kavanagh’s a grand-looking woman,” he’d heard people in the village say, and she was that. Daniel thought his small, raven-haired mother was, in fact, the prettiest woman in Killala. But in the days after his da was killed and the fever had come on Ellie, his mother had seemed to fade, not only in her appearance but in her spirit as well. She seemed to have retreated to a place somewhere deep inside herself, a distant place where Daniel could not follow. Her hair had lost its luster and her large gray eyes their quiet smile; she spoke only when necessary, and then with apparent effort. Hollow-eyed and deathly quiet, she continued to maintain her waxen, lifeless composure even in the face of her grief, but Daniel sometimes caught a glimpse of something shattering within her.



At times he found himself almost wishing his mother would give way to a fit of weeping or womanly hysteria. Then at least he could put an arm about her narrow shoulders and try to console her. This silent stranger beside him seemed beyond comfort; in truth, he suspected she was often entirely unaware of his presence.



In the face of his mother’s wooden stillness, Daniel himself turned inward, to the worrisome question that these days seldom gave him any peace.



What was to become of them?



The potato crop had failed for two years straight, and they were now more than half the year’s rent in arrears. Grandfar was beginning to fail. And Tahg—his heart squeezed with fear at the thought of his older brother—Tahg was no longer able to leave his bed. His mother continued to insist that Tahg would recover, that the lung ailment which had plagued him since childhood was responsible for his present weakness. Perhaps she was right, but Daniel was unable to convince himself. Tahg had a different kind of misery on him now—something dark and ugly and evil.



A tight, hard lump rose to his throat. It was going to be the same as with Ellie. First she’d grown weak from the hunger; later the fever had come on her until she grew increasingly ill. And then she died.



As for his mother, Daniel thought she still seemed healthy enough, but too much hard work and too little food were fast wearing her down. She was always tired lately, tired and distracted and somber. Even so, she continued to mend and sew for two of the local magistrates. Her earnings were less than enough to keep them, now that they lacked his da’s wages from Reilly the weaver, yet she had tried in vain to find more work.



The entire village was in drastic straits. The Hunger was on them all; fever was spreading with a vengeance. Almost every household was without work, and the extreme winter showed no sign of abating. Most were hungry; many were starving; all lived in fear of eviction.



Still, poor as they were as tenant farmers, Daniel knew they were better off than many of their friends and neighbors. Thomas Fitzgerald, for example, had lost his tenancy a few years back when he got behind in his rent. Unable thereafter to get hold of a patch of land to lease, he barely managed to eke out an existence for his family by means of conacre, wherein he rented a small piece of land season by season, with no legal rights to it whatever. The land they occupied was a mere scrap. Their cabin, far too small for such a large family, was scarcely more than a buffer against the winter winds, which this year had been fierce indeed.



Daniel worried as much about the Fitzgeralds as he did about his own family. His best friend, Katie, was cramped into that crude, drafty hut with several others. She was slight, Katie was, so thin and frail that Daniel’s blood chilled at the thought of what the fever might do to her. His sister had been far sturdier than Katie, and it had destroyed Ellie in such a short time.



Katie was more than his friend—she was his sweetheart as well. She was only eleven, and he thirteen, but they would one day marry—of that he was certain. Together they had already charted their future.



When he was old enough, Daniel would make his way to Dublin for his physician’s training, then come back to set up his own practice in Castlebar. Eventually he’d be able to build a fine house for himself and Katie—and for his entire family.



There was the difference of their religions to be considered, of course. Katie was a Roman and he a Protestant. But they would face that hurdle later, when they were older. In the meantime, Katie was his lass, and that was that. At times he grew almost desperate for the years to pass so they could get on with their plans.



A stirring in the room yanked Daniel out of his thoughts. He glanced up and caught a sharp breath. Without thinking, he popped off his stool, about to cry out a welcome until he remembered his surroundings.



The man ducking his head to pass through the cottage door was a great tower of a fellow, with shoulders so broad he had to ease himself sideways through the opening. Yet he was as lean and as wiry as a whip. He had a mane of curly copper hair and a lustrous, thick beard the color of a fox’s pelt. He carried himself with the grace of a cat-a-mountain, yet he seemed to fill the room with the restrained power of a lion.



As Daniel stood watching impatiently, the big man straightened, allowing his restless green eyes to sweep the room. His gaze gentled for an instant when it came to rest on Ellie’s corpse, softening even more at the sight of Daniel’s mother, to whom he offered a short, awkward nod of greeting. Only when he locked eyes with Daniel did his sun-weathered face at last break into a wide, pleased smile.



He started toward them, and it seemed to Daniel that even clad humbly as he was in dark frieze and worn boots, Morgan Fitzgerald might just as well have been decked with the steel and colors of a warrior chief, so imposing and awe-inspiring was his presence. He stopped directly in front of them, and both he and Daniel stood unmoving for a moment, studying each other’s faces. Then, putting hands the size of dinner plates to Daniel’s shoulders, Morgan pulled him into a hard, manly embrace. Daniel breathed a quiet sigh of satisfaction as he buried his cheek against Morgan’s granite chest, knowing the bond between him and the bronze giant to be renewed.



After another moment, Morgan tousled Daniel’s hair affectionately, released him, and turned to Nora. The deep, rumbling voice that could shake the walls of a cabin was infinitely soft when he spoke. “I heard about Owen and the lass, Nora. ’Tis a powerful loss.”



As Daniel watched, his mother lifted her shadowed eyes to Morgan. She seemed to grow paler still, and her small hands began to wring her handkerchief into a twisted rope. Her voice sounded odd when she acknowledged his greeting, as if she might choke on her words. “ ’Tis good of you to come, Morgan.”



“Nora, how are you keeping?” he asked, leaning toward her still more as he scrutinized her face.



Her only reply was a small, stiff nod of her head before she looked away.



Daniel wondered at the wounded look in Morgan’s eyes, even more at his mother’s strained expression. The room was still, and he noticed that the lank-haired Judy Hennessey was perched forward on her chair as far as she could get in an obvious attempt to hear their conversation. He shot a fierce glare in her direction, but she ignored him, craning her neck even farther.



Just then Grandfar Dan moved from his place by the fire and began to lumber toward them, his craggy, gray-bearded face set in a sullen scowl. Daniel braced himself. For as long as he could remember, there had been bad blood between his grandfather and Morgan Fitzgerald. Grandfar had carried some sort of a grudge against Morgan for years, most often referring to him as “that worthless rebel poet.”



“Sure, and that long-legged rover thinks himself a treasure,” Grandfar would say. “Well, a scoundrel is what he is! A fresh-mouthed scoundrel with a sweet-as-honey tongue and a string of wanton ways as long as the road from here to Sligo, that’s your Fitzgerald! What he’s learned from all his books and his roaming is that it’s far easier to sing for your supper than to work for it.”



Now, watching the two of them square off, Daniel held his breath in anticipation of a fracas. A warning glint flared in Morgan’s eye, and the old man’s face was red. They stared at each other for a tense moment. Then, to Daniel’s great surprise, Morgan greeted Grandfar with a bow of respect and, instead of goading him as he might have done in the past, he said quietly, “ ’Tis a bitter thing, Dan. I’m sorry for your troubles.”



Even shrunken as he was by old age and hard labor, Grandfar was a taller man than most. Still, he had to look up at Morgan. His mouth thinned as they eyed each other, but the expected sour retort did not come. Instead, the old man inclined his head in a curt motion of acknowledgment, then walked away without a word, his vest flapping loosely against his wasted frame.



Morgan stared after him, his heavy brows drawn together in a frown. “ ’Tis the first time I have known Dan Kavanagh to show his years,” he murmured, as if to himself. “It took the Hunger to age him, it would seem.”



He turned back to Daniel’s mother. “So, then, where is Tahg? I was hoping to see him.”



Nora glanced across the kitchen. Tahg lay abed in a small, dark alcove at the back of the room, where a tattered blanket had been hung for his privacy. “He’s sleeping. Tahg is poorly again.”



Morgan looked from her to Daniel. “How bad? Not the fever?”



“No, it is not the fever!” she snapped, her eyes as hard as her voice. “ ’Tis his lungs.”



Daniel stared down at the floor, unable to meet Morgan’s eyes for fear his denial would be apparent. “Nora—”



Daniel raised his head to see Morgan searching his mother’s face, a soft expression of compassion in his eyes. “Nora, is there anything I can do?”



Daniel could not account for his mother’s sudden frown. Couldn’t she tell that Morgan only wanted to help? “Thank you, but there’s no need.”



Morgan looked doubtful. “Are you sure, Nora? There must be something—”



She interrupted him, her tone making it clear that he wasn’t to press. “It’s kind of you to offer, Morgan, but as I said, there is no need.”



Morgan continued to look at her for another moment. Finally he gave a reluctant nod. “I should be on my way, then. The burial—will it be tomorrow?”



Her mouth went slack. “The burial…aye, the burial will be tomorrow.”



Hearing her voice falter, Daniel started to take her hand, but stopped at the sight of the emptiness in her eyes. She was staring past Morgan to Ellie’s corpse, seemingly unaware of anyone else in the room.



Morgan shot Daniel a meaningful glance. “I’ll just be on my way, then. Will you walk outside with me, lad?” Without waiting for Daniel’s reply, he lifted a hand as if to place it on Nora’s shoulder but drew it away before he touched her. Then, turning sharply, he started for the door.



Eager to leave the gloom of the cottage, and even more eager to be with Morgan after months of separation, Daniel nevertheless waited for his mother’s approval. When he realized she hadn’t even heard Morgan’s question, he went to lift his coat from the wall peg by the door. With a nagging sense of guilt for the relief he felt upon leaving, he hurried to follow Morgan outside.

Mailbox Madness (Sept 6 - Sept 12)

In My Mailbox is hosted Sundays at The Story Siren.  Mailbox Monday's host for September is Bermuda Onion . Please visit these posts and take a look at what packages everybody else got this week!

Books Won:

Her Daughter's Dream

by Francine Rivers

In the dramatic conclusion to the New York Times best seller Her Mother's Hope, Francine Rivers delivers a rich and deeply moving story about the silent sorrows that can tear a family apart and the grace and forgiveness that can heal even the deepest wounds.

Growing up isn't easy for little Carolyn Arundel.  With her mother, Hildemara, quarantined to her room with tuberculosis, Carolyn forms a special bond with her oma Marta, who moves in to care for the household.  But as tensions between Hildie and Marta escalate, Carolyn believes she is to blame.  When Hildie returns to work and Marta leaves, Carolyn and her brother grow up as latchkey kids in a world gripped by the fear of the Cold War.

College offers Carolyn the chance to find herself, but a family tragedy shatters her newfound independence.  Rather than return home, she cuts all ties and disappears into the heady counterculture of San Francisco.

When she reemerges two years later, more lost than ever, she reluctantly turns to her family to help rebuild a life for her and her own daughter, May Flower Dawn.

Just like Carolyn, May Flower Dawn develops a closer bond with her grandmother, Hildie, than with her mother, causing yet another rift between generations.  But as Dawn struggles to avoid the mistakes of those who went before her, she vows that somehow she will be a bridge between the women in her family rather than the wall that separates them forever.

Spanning from the 1950s to present day, Her Daughter's Dream is the emotional final chapter of an unforgettable family saga about the sacrifices every mother makes for her daughter -- and the very nature of unconditional love.

Books Swapped:

Hunted

A House of Night  Novel

by P.C. and Kristin Cast

The door closed with a sickening thud of finality, shutting my friends out and leaving me alone with my enemy, a fallen angel, and the monstrous bird creature his ancient lust had created. Then I did something I'd only done twice before in my entire life.  I fainted.

It's all happening, though Zoey Redbird wishes it wasn't.  She has her friends back, which is great. But a dark angel has taken over the House of Night, supported by High Priestess Neferet.  Not so great.  This leaves Zoey hiding out with the (supposedly friendly) red fledglings in Tulsa's prohibition era tunnels.  The not greatness continues.

Naturally, Zoey also has boy issues to stress her out, with a chance to make up with super-hot-ex Eric.  But thoughts of the archer that died, semi-permanently, in her arms keep distracting her.  Then he shows up as Neferet's newest minion.  Well, hell.  Zoey and friends will need a plan to put things right, and soon, if she can just keep her head and her heart intact.

Books for Review:

Dark Road to Darjeeling

A Lady Julia Grey Novel

by Deanna Raybourn

For Lady Julia Grey and Nicholas Brisbane, the honeymoon has ended...but the adventure is just beginning.

After eight idyllic months in the Mediterranean, Lady Julia Grey and her detective husband are ready to put their investigative talents to work once more.  At the urging of Julia's eccentric family, they hurry to India to aid an old friend, the newly widowed Jane Cavendish.  Living on the Cavendish tea plantation with the remnants of her husband's family, Jane is consumed with the impending birth of her child--and with discovering the truth about her husband's death.  Was he murdered for his estate?  And if he was, could Jane and her unborn child be next?

Amid the lush foothills of the Himalayas, dark deeds are buried and malicious thoughts flourish.  The Brisbanes uncover secrets and scandal, illicit affairs and twisted legacies.  In this remote and exotic place, exploration is perilous and discovery, deadly.  The danger is palpable and, if they are not careful, Julia and Nicholas will not live to celebrate their first anniversary.

The Home for Broken Hearts

by Rowan Coleman

The door is open. . .

For young widow Ellen Wood, her Victorian home is a refuge--a place to feel safe with her eleven-year-old son, Charlie.  But when money grows so tight that Ellen could lose the house, her sister, Hannah, makes a radical suggestion. . . Rent out some of the rooms.  Soon Ellen has three lodgers:  Sabine, a German coworker of Hannah's, recently separated from her husband; Allegra, an eccentric but wise novelist; and Matt, an up-and-coming young journalist in search of his voice, who has just landed a plum job in London.

Ellen thinks three strangers are the last complication she needs, but they make her realize just how isolated she has become.  Their presence exposes a secret she's been keeping hidden, as well as a conflict with her sister that is both shocking and revealing.  And while a love affair with a younger man seems like a fantasy powered by her imagination, Ellen can't deny her deep connection to Matt, or the changes he inspires in her and her relationship with Charlie.  Outside her home's sheltering walls lies a world of opportunity as well as danger.  Now that she's had the courage to open the door, does Ellen dare step through?

Witty, moving, and deeply insightful, The Home for Broken Hearts celebrates everything that makes life worth living, from an author who knows just how to speak to the heart.

The House on Malcolm Street

by Leisha Kelly

When tragedy steals her future, can Leah learn to trust again?

It is the autumn of 1920, and Leah Breckenridge is desperate to find a way to provide for her young daughter.  After losing her husband and infant son, she is angry at God and fearful about the days ahead.  Finding refuge in a boardinghouse run by her late husband's aunt, Leah begins the slow process of mending her heart.

Is it the people who surround her--or perhaps this very house--that reach into her heart with healing?  As Leah finds peace tending to an abandoned garden, can she find a way to trust God with her future?

A beautifully simple story about the complexities of life, The House on Malcolm Street is a treasure.

The Duck Song Book

by Bryant Oden

illustrations by Forrest Whaley

With the touch of a button on the cover, children will be singing The Duck Song as this musical book tells the comical story of a persistent duck that pleads for grapes at the most unlikely of places: a lemonade stand. A comical tale of persistence and compassion, adults and children alike will delight in listening to this one-of-a-kind singing book, and reading it again and again. Also included is a music CD, The Duck Song and More Fun Songs, with 12 original children's songs by Bryant Oden. Featured songs include the hits "I Got A Pea," "Honey Bear," "The Duck Song #2," and more! About the author: Bryant Oden is a well-loved composer of over 70 children's songs. The Duck Song has consistently remained near the top of Itune's charts for children's songs. About the illustrator: Forrest Whaley was only 14 years old when he animated the music to The Duck Song, turning the song into an international sensation. With over 15 million views, fans of the YouTube video can now own their own talking duck book and music CD.

Pirate Treasure

Traveling Trunk Adventure No. 1

by Benjamin Flinders

One magical trunk

Two curious brothers

Explore worlds without end!

Ahoy Maties!

Before ye embark on this reading adventure, be ye warned.  This here tale be for young lads and lasses who like pirate songs, swash-buckling, disgusting food, and a cursed treasure chest.

If ye ain't afraid of being thrown in the brig with Fish Breath Cookie, or walkin' the plank, then come and join Ethan and Dallin, two stout-hearted lads, who stumble onto me pirate ship in the middle of our getaway with the gold.  Blast me mother-in-law witch for sending them after me and me crew!

Captain Bartelmy

The Lost City of Atlantis

Traveling Trunk Adventure No. 2

by Benjamin Flinders

Hear ye, hear ye

Atlantis the great this day shall fall.

Poseidon is angry at one and all!

What has kindled the wrath of Poseidon?  Something of his has been stolen, and he will destroy all of ancient Atlantis to get it back.

Join Ethan and Dallin, two brothers who are transported back to the ancient city, as they make new friends, attempt to outwit a corrupt Magistrate, and seek to reunite an enslaved girl with her father.

Will Ethan and Dallin discover that they possess what Poseidon wants before it is too late?  Or will they be lost forever with the ancient City of Atlantis?

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