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

Friday, February 4, 2011

First Wild Card Tour: Living Inside the Testimony by Betty Collier

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!

Read my review of Living Inside the Testimony.

Today's Wild Card author is:


and the book:

CrossBooks Publishing; 2nd Revised edition (January 11, 2010)
***Special thanks to Betty Collier for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:


Betty Collier is a wife, mother, daughter, sister, RN, and child of the King. She married the absolute love of her life 24 years ago after he suffered a life threatening head injury requiring emergency brain surgery a week before high school graduation. Betty and her husband William reside in Bartlett, TN with their 2 sons, Jordan William age 16 and Brandon William age 11. She tells people that she became an author overnight and an internet radio talk show host over the weekend. After reading her book, Living Inside The Testimony, you will discover the inspiration that lies within all of us. Betty shares stories of faith, hope, humor, romance, and love by offering readers inspiration and encouragement in a very unique way, by sharing her incredible journey of faith.


Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Living Inside The Testimonyis a collection of anecdotes compiled by author Betty Collier. In reading these stories, you will share in her journey and experience the inspiration, faith, hope, humor, romance, and love she experienced. The stories in Living Inside The Testimony revolve around Betty’s experiences with her family, friends, and other individuals who have contributed, often unknowingly, to the path God has chosen for her. You will hear the story of how Betty fell in love at age fourteen (with her future husband), about her husband’s near-death experience with emergency brain surgery a week before high school graduation, their experiences in New York a week prior to 9/11, and the frustrating ordeal she and her husband overcame when trying to build their dream home.

Betty attributes her success and her great love to God, and she shares with readers how God has orchestrated her life’s path every step of the way. Betty’s prayer is that you will see and feel Proverbs 3:5-6 come alive and speak to your heart as you take a walk with her, inside her testimony. She hopes you enjoy the journey and discover that we all live inside testimonies meant to be shared with others.



Product Details:

List Price: $12.99
Paperback: 112 pages
Publisher: CrossBooks Publishing; 2nd Revised edition (January 11, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1615070796
ISBN-13: 978-1615070794

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:


In the Beginning

August, 1976–May 16, 1983


Elvis died. It’s funny how certain things can greatly impact some people while they don’t impact others at all, or only very insignificantly. I remember I was at cheerleading practice when we heard about his death. Living in Memphis, Tennessee, where he died made it even more newsworthy, although it was indeed world news. Most of the cheerleaders started crying, but I wasn’t distraught like they were. It’s always interested me how you remember the smallest details during life-changing moments, like where you were when certain historical events happened—such as when President Kennedy or Dr. King were assassinated, or when the terrorists attacked America on September 11. My memory actually isn’t that good at all, and for me to suddenly recall so much about my past and write about it is quite remarkable. My sister Tricia often tells me I have selective amnesia. If it doesn’t relate to me personally, and sometimes even when it does, I have a hard time remembering details. Not only do I remember this whole story because it’s true, but I finally realize that it really is a story to tell, and all of it has brought me to this point. I’ll begin with a flashback to August 1976, when I started middle school.


I saw my future husband for the first time at the age of eleven in sixth grade at Shadowlawn Middle School a year before Elvis died. William and I had both grown up in the same part of town, rural Shelby County, Tennessee. He lived only about two miles from me, but we had gone to different elementary schools, so our paths had never crossed before 1976. Although our classes were across the hallway from each other in sixth grade, we basically didn’t know the other existed, except when passing each other in the hallway. Even then, we were simply a blur in a sea of faces.


It wasn’t until two years later in eighth grade that we finally acknowledged each other. He was a basketball player, and I was a cheerleader, but it wasn’t love at first sight by any means. Chris Ellis, a boy on the basketball team with William, had pointed me out to him one day and asked him if he liked me. That was the first seed planted. He was so into basketball and how good he was that he never noticed me on the sidelines, but after Chris pointed me out, he started looking at me … and before I knew it, one thing led to another and we started talking on the phone. I still wonder how he got my phone number.


As they say, the rest is history. We were just kids talking on the phone at first, somewhat attracted to each other in eighth grade at the age of thirteen and fourteen. Basketball and cheerleading became much more interesting after this grand revelation that he liked me. So of course, I liked him back. I pointed him out to my mother at our sports banquet at the end of the year, and I remember her exact words: “So that’s the little boy you’ve been talking to on the phone.” After school was out for the summer, we continued talking on the phone. On one hot afternoon, he rode his bike to my house with his friend Willie Blevins. I think that was the only time I saw him the entire summer, even though we were only two miles apart.


Bartlett High School, August 1979, things intensified. The attraction grew, and we had more freedom in high school to hang out together. He would just appear at my next class, and we’d talk outside the hallway. He was always around, and we had a lot of fun together. He played freshman football in addition to basketball that year, and I was a cheerleader. I was on the homecoming court, and quite naturally, my “boyfriend” escorted me. We had definitely become a couple in ninth grade, and then we fell in love—deeply, madly, and profoundly in love, as much as fourteen-year-olds can, anyway.


Everyone remembers their first love. But how many actually marry them? And of those who get married, how many secretly start writing a book about it without telling them? William is not a very outspoken or public person, and he doesn’t like to tell people “his business.” I doubt if he wants our fourteen-year-old son to know that we were his age in ninth grade when we had our first kiss under the breezeway during one of the varsity football games. (Now that I think about it, I doubt if our parents know either.) But after all, it is part of my testimony too, so hopefully Jordan won’t get any ideas. And if he does, I will trust that the Lord knows what he’s doing…


So, here we were, really in love. However, my immature, moody, and temperamental boyfriend didn’t quite know how to behave. He would probably say the same thing about me, but he’s not the one writing the book. During our first year as official boyfriend and girlfriend he would frequently “break up” with me, and then come crawling back all pitiful and sad. He did it one time too many, so the last time he did it, I didn’t take him back. We had broken up permanently!


Well, if it was actually permanent, then there would be no book because we would not have gotten married. I should say I thought it was permanent because he was just too moody (and still is … sorry, William, but it’s the truth). For the remainder of high school, we were on-again, off-again. William and I didn’t appear to be headed for marriage, but the Lord already knew what was to come. I watched William. William watched me. I started liking someone else, and he eventually did too (but I won’t mention their names). He went to the prom with someone else, and so did I.


Our sophomore year came. There was this big basketball game that year when we played West Memphis, Arkansas, and the star player was Keith Lee (who went on to lead the University of Memphis basketball team to the NCAA Final Four in 1985). But this was 1981, Keith’s senior year in high school, when they came to Bartlett. You should have seen William play! He was awesome. I think it was the most exciting game he had ever played. I was so excited. He was so cute, and so good. I’m sure some of the other boys on the team thought they were just as good as William, but in my mind, he was absolutely wonderful. I can still see his tall, slender body (in those short shorts they used to wear in the early 1980s—a flashback to Michael Jordan and Magic Johnson) making those jump shots, slick moves, and magnificent plays. He played against other boys that went on to play college basketball, but he didn’t play after high school. I think he became disinterested in school, and surprisingly, he even lost his competitive love for basketball by the time he was a senior. He still played, but his heart just wasn’t in it anymore, so he never tried to pursue a college scholarship and showed no desire to play college basketball. He was actually good enough to be on that University of Memphis Final Four Team with Keith Lee. But a future in basketball was not the Lord’s plans for William, although the Lord certainly did have “a plan” for him.


There were times when we thought we would get back together, but it never worked out. Before we could even mend things, we would give up again. I was still a cheerleader, but it sure was hard to cheer for him after we broke up. I just had to pretend. He really was an outstanding basketball player, but how do you cheer for your ex-boyfriend? When we were on, he’d wink at me during the games. But when we were off, he ignored my presence.


Most of the kids we hung out with at school knew about our saga. He wanted me back, but I wouldn’t take him. They’d ask me why I wouldn’t give him another chance, but I thought it just wasn’t worth the heartache and drama. Remember, he was the one who broke up with me, so I simply wasn’t going down that road with him anymore. He even sent me a ring via one of our mutual friends, Diane Tate, but I told her to give it back to him. It’s really funny now, but I think he bought it at the Mid-South Fair. (I would later sell him my own engagement ring when I was working in the jewelry department at Service Merchandise, so it took him a while to figure out how to give a girl a ring. I must admit he has matured quite nicely though, and I do have some bedazzling diamond upgrades now.) High school romance can be a funny thing when you think back on it. But at the time, it was really intense, and somewhat sad. I thought I had gotten over him, but as you can see, I never did.


Time passed, and our high school days were coming to an end. It was May of 1983, and graduation was soon approaching. But due to our on-again, off-again status, we were off at that time. Actually, it appeared that we were definitely off—forever. We were about to go our separate ways. I was headed to college, and honestly, I don’t know where William was headed. He had mentioned going to California where his sister Bobbie lived to perhaps try to get a job on the oil island where his brother-in-law Leon worked. I don’t know if he had even asked Bobbie and Leon about going out there to California, but that’s what he told me. It appeared that we were separating for good, without ever really working things out or gaining some closure, and with some unfinished business that neither of us could get over.


But in order for this to be a testimony, you know the Lord has got to be in this story. He had other plans for us that we were both unaware of at the time. We would not be separated. In fact, we would be drawn so close together that we never separated again. Till death do us part, and death almost did.

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Words by Ginny L. Yttrup (Book Review)


Title: Words
Author: Ginny L. Yttrup
Publisher: BH Publishing Group


About the Book: Kaylee has been left with Jack, an abusive boyfriend of her mothers. She is only 10 years old and believes Jack when he tells her she can't leave as her mother will be back to get her sometime.  She is repeatedly molested by him and has stopped speaking because of the trauma.  Instead, she collects words in her head - words that she finds in a dictionary that she and her mother used to look at together.

Jack leaves Kaylee alone for long portions of the day, and she is pretty good at remembering his work schedule - so even though she wanders in the nearby redwood forest she is always home before he is.  She has found a safe haven in a burnt out redwood tree.  In this tree, inside a circle of pinecones, no one can hurt her.  It is here that she first sees Sierra.

Sierra is an artist who has lived alone since the death of her baby daughter 12 years before.  She had been a drug addict and her newborn baby, Annie, died because of it.  She had been raised in a Christian home, but had wandered far off that path.  She was still close to her parents, but refused to let go of the guilt and remorse of her daughter's death.  It is on the anniversary of Annie's death that she thinks she sees the ghost of a little girl peering out of a redwood tree, when it is in fact Kaylee.

Although she leaves that day without investigating further, with the encouragement of her best friend Ruby, she ventures back to the spot to see if it was really a little girl.  She can't help but wonder what a little girl would be doing out in the woods by herself.  Kaylee feels pulled back to the spot to see if Sierra will return as she had been crying and Kaylee is curious as to why.  What neither one of them realize is that they are both being nudged by God towards each other.

My thoughts:  I really liked this book alot.  Being a mom, I totally understood Sierra's need to find Kaylee and see why she was in the forest alone - and once she did, to follow up and try to learn more. You could feel Kaylee's struggle to speak, but also realize her reluctance is because she may have to answer some tough questions about things she doesn't want to talk about.  It contains a great lesson in forgiveness and how God loves us, for us, regardless of what we might have done, and the importance of allowing God to do it His way, even when we don't think it is the right way.

Go here to read the first chapter of Words.

~Special thanks to Julie Gwinn, Trade Book Marketing, B&H Publishing Group for sending me a review copy~

You can connect with Ginny at her website http://www.ginnyyttrup.com/.


Words
Publisher/Publication Date: BH Publishing, Feb 1, 2011
ISBN: 978-14336-7170-8
352 pages

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

First Wild Card Tour: Words by Ginny L. Yttrup

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!

Watch for my review later today(another really good book!) - must go dig a path for our dog right now!

My review is now up here.

Today's Wild Card author is:


and the book:

B&H Books (February 1, 2011)
***Special thanks to Julie Gwinn, Trade Book Marketing, B&H Publishing Group for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:


Ginny L. Yttrup is an accomplished freelance writer, speaker, and life coach who also ministers to women wounded by sexual trauma. Her blogs include Fiction Creator, My Daily Light, and Crossings Life Coaching. She has two grown sons and lives in California. Words is her first novel.



Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

“I collect words. I keep them in a box in my mind. Whenever I wanted, I’d open the box and pick up the papers, reading and feeling the words all at once. Then I could hide the box. But the words are safer in my mind. There, he can’t take them.”
Ten-year old Kaylee Wren doesn’t speak. Not since her drug-addled mother walked away, leaving her in a remote cabin nestled in the towering redwoods-in the care of a man who is as dangerous as he is evil. With silence her only refuge, Kaylee collects words she might never speak from the only memento her mother left behind: a dictionary.

Sierra Dawn is thirty-four, an artist, and alone. She has allowed the shame of her past to silence her present hopes and chooses to bury her pain by trying to control her circumstances. But on the twelfth anniversary of her daughter’s death, Sierra’s control begins to crumble as the God of her childhood woos her back to Himself.

Brought together by Divine design, Kaylee and Sierra will discover together the healing mercy of the Word—Jesus Christ.




Product Details:

List Price: $14.99
Paperback: 352 pages
Publisher: B&H Books (February 1, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1433671700
ISBN-13: 978-1433671708

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:


“In the beginning was the Word.”

John 1:1


“All those things for which we have no words are lost. The mind—the culture—has two little tools, grammar and lexicon: a decorated sand bucket and a matching shovel. With these we bluster about the continents and do all the world’s work. With these we try to save our very lives.”

Annie Dillard


Chapter One


Kaylee


I collect words.

I keep them in a box in my mind. I’d like to keep them in a real box, something pretty, maybe a shoe box covered with flowered wrapping paper. I’d write my words on scraps of paper and then put them in the box. Whenever I wanted, I’d open the box and pick up the papers, reading and feeling the words all at once. Then I could hide the box.

But the words are safer in my mind. There, he can’t take them.

The dictionary is heavy on my lap. I’m on page 1,908. I’m reading through the Ss. When I finish the Zs, I’ll start all over again.

Su-per-flu-ous.

I like that word. It means something extra, something special, something you don’t need. It’s super. But you don’t need super. You just need good enough.

How does it sound when someone says it?

I didn’t really think about how words sound until I stopped talking. I didn’t mean to stop talking, it just sort of happened.

My mom left.

I got scared.

And the words got stuck.

Now I just read the words and then listen for them on the little radio in the kitchen, the only superfluous thing we have.

As I read, my hair falls across my eyes. I push it out of the way, but it falls back. I push it out of the way again, but this time my fingers catch in a tangle. I work for a minute trying to separate the hairs and smooth them down.

When my mom was here, she combed my hair most mornings. Our hair is the same. “Stick straight and dark as soot.” That’s what she used to say.

It hurt when she pulled the comb through my hair. “Kaylee, stop squirming,” she’d tell me. “It’ll pull more if you move.”

Sometimes I’d cry when the comb caught in a knot and she’d get impatient and tell me to stop whining.

Maybe that’s why she left. Maybe she got tired of my whining.

That’s what he says. He tells me she didn’t love me anymore—that she wanted out. But I don’t believe him. I think something happened to her, an accident or something.

She probably has amnesia. I read that word in the dictionary.

That’s when you hit your head so hard on something that you pass out and have to go to the hospital and when you wake up, you don’t remember anything. Not even your name.

Not even that you have a daughter.

I think that’s what happened to my mom. When she remembers, she’ll come back and get me.

So I just wait. I won’t leave. If I leave, she won’t know where to find me.

And when she comes back, I’ll be good. I won’t whine anymore.

I was nine when she left. Now, I’m ten. I’ll be eleven the day after Christmas. I always know it’s near my birthday when they start playing all the bell songs on the radio. I like Silver Bells. I like to think about the city sidewalks and all the people dressed in holiday style. But Jingle Bells is my favorite. Dashing through the snow on a one-horse open sleigh sounds fun.

It’s not near my birthday yet. It’s still warm outside.

As the sun sets, the cabin gets dark inside, too dark to read. He didn’t pay the electric bill, again. I hope he pays it before Christmas or I won’t hear the songs on the radio.

Before I put the dictionary away, I turn to the front page and run my fingers across the writing scribbled there. “Lee and Katherine Wren. Congratulations.

Lee and Katherine are my parents. Were my parents. Are my parents. I’m not sure.

My mom told me that the dictionary was a gift from her Aunt Adele. Mom thought it was kind of a funny wedding gift, but she liked it and kept it even after Lee left. We used it a lot. Sometimes when I’d ask her a question about what something was or what something meant, she’d say, “Go get the dictionary Kaylee, we’ll look it up.” Then she’d show me how to find the word, and we’d read the definition. Most of the time she’d make me sound out the words and read them to her. Only sometimes did she read them to me. But most of the time when I asked her a question, she told me to be quiet. She liked it best when I was quiet.

I miss my mom. But the dictionary makes me feel like part of her is still here. While she’s gone, the dictionary is mine. I have to take care of it. So just like I always do before I put the book away, I ask a silent favor: Please don’t let him notice it. Please don’t let him take it.

I put the dictionary back under the board that makes up a crooked shelf. The splintered wood pricks the tip of one finger as I lift the board and shove the dictionary under. The shelf is supported on one end by two cinderblocks and by one cinderblock and three books on the other end.

I remember the day she set up the shelf. I followed her out the front door and down the steps, and then watched her kneel in the dirt and pull out three concrete blocks she’d found under the steps. She dusted dirt and cobwebs from the cracks and then carried each block inside. She stacked two blocks one on top of the other at one end of the room and then spaced the last block at the other end of the room, under the window.

“Kaylee, hand me a few books from that box. Get big ones.”

I reached into the box and pulled out the biggest book—the dictionary. Then I handed her the other two books. She stacked them on top of the block and then laid a board across the books and blocks.

Even at seven, I knew what she was doing. We’d move in with a boyfriend and Mom would get us “settled” which meant she’d move in our things—our clothes, books, and a few toys for me. She’d rearrange the apartment, or house—or this time, the cabin—and make it “homey.”

After she made the shelf, she lined up our books. Then she placed a vase of wildflowers we’d collected that morning on the end of the shelf. She stood back and looked at what she’d done. Her smile told me she liked it.

The cabin was small, but of all the places we’d lived, I could tell this was her favorite. And this boyfriend seemed nice enough at first, so I hoped maybe we’d stay this time.

We did stay. Or at least I stayed. So now I’m the one arranging the shelf and I’m careful to put it back just as it was. Our books are gone. In their place I return two beer bottles, one with a sharp edge of broken glass, to their dust-free circles on the shelf. I pick up the long-empty bag of Frito Lay corn chips and, before leaning the bag against the broken bottle, I hold it open close to my face and breathe in. The smell of corn and salt make my stomach growl.

Once I’m sure everything looks just as it was on the shelf, I crawl to my mattress in the corner of the room and sit, Indian-style, with my back against the wall and watch the shadows. Light shines between the boards across the broken front window; shadows of leaves and branches move across the walls, ceiling, and door. Above my head I hear a rat or squirrel on the roof. Its movement scatters pine needles and something—a pinecone, I imagine—rolls from the top of the roof, over my head, and then drops into the bed of fallen needles around the front steps.

This is the longest part of the day—when it’s too dark to read.

When I read…

I forget.

That’s how it works.

Once the sun goes down, I don’t leave the cabin. I’m afraid he’ll come back after work and find me gone. He’s told me not to leave because he’d find me and I’d be sorry.

I believe him. believe --verb 1. to take as true, real, etc. 2. to have confidence in a statement or promise of (another person).

My legs go numb under my body and my eyes feel heavy, but I don’t sleep. Sleep isn’t safe. Instead, I close my eyes for just a minute and see flames against the backs of my eyelids. They burn everything my mom and I brought to the cabin.

I remember the hissing and popping as the nighttime drizzle hit the bonfire. And I remember his laughter.

“She’s gone for good, Kaylee. She ain’t comin back.” He cackled like an old witch as he threw more gasoline on the flames.

The smoke filled my nose and stung my lungs as I watched Lamby, the stuffed animal I’d slept with since I was a baby, burn along with most of our clothes and books.

The only exceptions were the three books he hadn’t noticed holding up the shelf. My tears couldn’t put out the fire, and I finally stopped crying. I wiped my nose on my sleeve and stepped away from the blaze. I squared my shoulders and stood as tall as I could. Something changed in me that night. I couldn’t be little anymore. I had to be grown up.

I open my eyes and reach my hand under the corner of the mattress. My fingers dig into the hole in the canvas, feeling for the music box that had been inside Lamby. I’d found it in the ashes the morning after the fire. I tug it free, then wind the key and hold it up to my ear. As the music plays, I remember the words of the song that Grammy taught me just before she died. Jesus loves me, this I know…

The song makes me feel sad.

I don’t think Jesus loves me anymore.

Eventually, I must fall asleep, because I wake up startled—mouth dry, palms damp, and my heart pounding.

I hear the noise that woke me, the crunching of leaves and pine needles. I listen. Are his steps steady, even? No. Two steps. Pause. A dragging sound. Pause. A thud as he stumbles. Pause. Will he get up? Or has he passed out? Please let him be out. A metal taste fills my mouth as I hear him struggle to get back on his feet.

“Kay—leeee?” He slurs. “You up? Lemme in.”

He bangs his fist on the front door, which hasn’t locked or even shut tight since the night he aimed his .22 at the doorknob and blew it to pieces.

The door gives way under the pressure of his fist. As it swings open, he pounds again but misses and falls into the cabin. He goes straight down and hits the floor, head first. A gurgling sound comes from his throat, and I smell the vomit before I see it pooled around his face.

I hope he’ll drown in it.

But he won’t die tonight.

Instead, he heaves himself onto his back and reaches for the split on his forehead where, even in the dark, I can see the blood trickling into his left eye. Then his hand slides down past his ear and drops to the floor. At the sound of his snoring, I exhale. I realize I’ve been holding my breath. Waiting…waiting…waiting.



Chapter Two

Sierra


Cocooned in crocheted warmth, I slip my hands from beneath the afghan and reach for my journal—a notebook filled with snippets of feelings and phrases. I jot a line: Like shards of glass slivering my soul. I set pen and journal aside and warm my hands around my ritual mug of Earl Gray, considering the phrase. I like the cadence of the alliteration. I see shining slivers piercing an ambiguous soul. I see a canvas layered in hues of red, russet, and black.

A memory calls my name, but I turn away. There will be time for memories later.

I close my eyes against the flame of color igniting the morning sky and allow my body the luxury of relaxing. I breathe deep intentional breaths, exhaling slowly, allowing mind and body to find a like rhythm. With each breath I let go, one by one, the anxieties of the past week.

Prints—signed and numbered. Five hundred in all.

Contract negotiations with two new galleries. Done.

Showing in Carmel last night. Successful.

Mortgage paid. On time for once.

Van Gogh neutered. What did the vet say? “He’s lost his manhood—be gentle with him. He’ll need a few days to recoup.” Good grief.

A whimper interrupts my reverie. The afghan unfurls as I get up and pad across the deck back into the bungalow. Van presses his nose through the cross-hatch door of his crate—his woeful expression speaking volumes. I open the cage and the spry mutt I met at the shelter a few days before staggers toward the deck, tail between his legs. I translate his body language as utter humiliation and feel guilty for my responsible choice.

“Sorry pal, it’s the only way I could spring you from the shelter. They made me do it.” His ears perk and then droop. His salt and pepper coat bristles against my hand, while his ears are cashmere soft. He sighs and drifts back to sleep while I wonder at the wisdom of adopting an animal that’s already getting under my skin. I consider packing him up and taking him back before it’s too late. Instead, I brace myself and concede “Okay, I’ll love you—but just a little.” He twitches in response.

The distant throttle of fishing boats leaving the harbor and the bickering of gulls overhead break the morning silence followed by the ringing of the phone. I smile and reach for the phone lying under my journal.

“Hi, Margaret.” No need to answer with a questioning “Hello?” There’s only one person I know who dares calling at 7:00 a.m. on a Saturday.

Laughter sings through the phone line. “Shannon, when are you going to stop calling me Margaret?”

I dubbed her that after the indomitable Margaret Thatcher, prime minister of her homeland. Her unwavering British accent, even after nearly half a century in the United States, and her strength under pressure inspired the nickname. It fits.

“Well, as I’ve told you, I’ll stop calling you Margaret when you stop calling me Shannon. Need I remind you that I haven’t been Shannon in over a decade?”

“Oh, right. Let’s see, what is your name now? Sahara Dust? Sequoia Dew?”

I play along. “Does Sierra Dawn ring a bell?”

“Right, Sierra Dawn, beautiful name. But you’ll always be Shannon Diane to me.”

The smile in her voice chases the shadows from my heart. “Okay, Mother. I mean Margaret.” I pull my knees to my chest and reach for the afghan as I settle back in the weathered Adirondack for our conversation.

“Sierra, I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“Of course not. What is it you say, ‘You can take the girl out of the farm, but you can’t take the farm out of the girl.’”

“That’s my girl. Your daddy’s been out in the fields since 6:00 but he let me sleep. I just got up and thought I’d share a cup of tea with you.”

I do a quick pacific/central time conversion and realize with some alarm that it’s 9:00 a.m. in Texas.

“You slept until 9:00? You never sleep that late. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, darling, I’m simply getting old. I had to get up three times during the night and by this morning I just wanted to sleep. So I indulged.”

“Well, good for you. I’m glad you called. You know my favorite Saturday mornings are spent with you and Earl.”

“I’m not drinking Earl.”

A startling confession. “You’re not? What are you drinking?”

“Sierra, I’m drinking Lemon Zinger!” Her declaration is followed by a giggle that sounds anything but old.

I stretch my long legs and cross them at the ankles and lean my head against the back of the chair. I feel as though my mother, with gentle skill, has distracted me while she’s worked to remove a few of those slivers imbedded in my soul. But unless I stop brushing up against my splintered history, the slivers will return—or so she tells me.

Just before we hang up, she says, “Shannon—” there’s such tenderness in her voice that I let the slip pass— “are you going to the cemetery today?”

Her question tears open the wound, exposing the underlying infection. I imagine her practicality won’t allow her to leave the wound festering any longer; instead she lances my heart.

I lean forward. “Yes, Mother. You know I will.” My tone is tight, closed. But I can’t seem to help it.

“Darling, it’s time to let go—it’s been twelve years. It’s time to grasp grace and move on.”

The fringe of the afghan I’ve played with as we’ve talked is now twisted tight around my index finger, cutting off the circulation. “What are you saying? That I should just forget—just let go and walk away— never think about it again? You know I can’t do that.”

“Not forget, Sierra— forgive. It’s time.”

“Mother, you know I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Yes, I know. But you need to at least think about it. Think about the truth. Ask yourself what’s true.”

I sigh at my mother’s oft repeated words and grunt my consent before I hang up— or “ring off” as she would say.


I left Texas at eighteen and headed to California, sure that was where I’d “find myself.” On the day I left, my daddy stood at the driver’s door of my overstuffed used station wagon gazing at the hundreds of acres of soil he’d readied for planting in the fall and gave me what I think of now as my own “Great Commission.” In the vernacular of the Bible Belt, my daddy, a farmer with the soul of a poet, sent me out into the world with a purpose.

“Honey, do you know why I farm?”

At eighteen I’d never considered the “why” of what my parents did. “No, Daddy. Why?”

“Farming’s not something that can be done alone. I till the ground, plant the seeds, and irrigate. But it’s the rising and setting of the sun and the changing of the seasons that cause the grain to grow. Farming is a partnership with the Creator. Each year when I reap the harvest, I marvel at a Creator who allows me the honor of co-creating with him.”

He’d stopped staring at the fields and instead looked straight at me. “Look for what the Creator wants you to do, Shannon. He wants to share his creativity with you. He wants to partner with you. You find what he wants you to do.”

With that, he planted a kiss on my forehead and shut the door of my car. With my daddy’s commission tucked in my heart, I left in search of my life. My older brother, Jeff, was already in California completing his final year in the agricultural school at Cal-Poly in San Luis Obispo. Tired of dorm life, Jeff and two friends rented a house in town and told me I could rent a room from them for the year. I was thrilled.

Our neighbors and Mother and Daddy’s friends couldn’t understand why they’d let me “run off” to California. In their minds, California was a dark place where drugs and sex ruled. But Daddy assured them California was not the Sodom and Gomorrah they imagined. He should know. His roots were in California. He was born and raised there. Jeff and I grew up hearing about the Golden State and were determined we’d see it for ourselves one day. College in California seemed a logical choice to both of us.

As I headed west, I thought of my parents and what I’d learned from each of them through the years. Daddy taught me to see. Where others in our community saw grain, Daddy saw God. He always encouraged me in his quiet and simple way to look beyond the obvious. “Look beyond a person’s actions and see their heart. Look for what’s causing them to act the way they act, then you’ll understand them better.”

When I was about twelve, Mother and Daddy took us with them down to Galveston for a week. Daddy was there for an American Farm Bureau meeting. After the meeting, we stayed for a few rare days of vacation. I remember standing on the beach and looking out at the flat sea, Daddy pulled me close and pointed at the surf and asked, “What do you see?”

“The ocean?” I asked it more than stated.

“Yes, but there’s more. You’re seeing God’s power.”

I must have seemed unimpressed because Daddy laughed. “It’s there Shan, someday you’ll see it. But, I’ll admit it’s easier to see it in the crashing surf and jagged cliffs of the California coastline.”

I didn’t understand what he meant then—and I’m still not sure I fully understand—but back then my daddy’s description of the California coastline followed me as I was off to see it for myself.

My mother taught me to look for something else. “What’s the truth, Shannon?” she’d ask over and over, challenging me to choose what was right. She taught me to analyze a situation and then make a decision that represented the truth foundational to our family.

Most often the truth she spoke of was found in the big family Bible she’d brought with her from England. She’d lay the book out on the kitchen table and open it to the book of John in the New Testament and she’d read from the King James version: “And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.”

“There’s freedom in the truth, Shannon. You remember that,” she’d say.

Again, I’m only now beginning to understand what she meant. But these were the lessons from home that I carried with me to California.

So why hadn’t I applied those lessons? Why I had I wandered so far from my parents’ truth?

Those are questions I’d ask myself many times over. I’d yet to find the answers.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

At the Crossroads of Terror by Lenny Emanuelli (Book Review)

Title: At the Crossroads of Terror
Author: Lenny Emanuelli
Publisher: E.P. Publishing


My thoughts: This book deals with drug trafficking, sexual assault and violence - sometimes in great detail and gore.  A portion of the profits will be going to RAINN (Rape, Abuse and Incest National Network). 

With that being said, I was unable to finish this book.  I love thrillers and was looking forward to reading this one, but the writing style was distracting to me.  For example:

He didn't perceive himself as cheap, rather a sensible guy who will not allow himself to succumb to such impracticalities.  Besides, with Chelly's obvious beauty, the classy lady she had surely become, in all probability frequented refined establishments such as The Dragons Den. (p9)

"'Our' does sounds better," assures Sherry, "I'm not leaving your side," as she paces a few steps behind. "In saving your ass, you might make my career as well," she says as she chuckles to herself. (p27)

As he reached in, jolted by a veritable bolt of lightning, sending a shock right up his spine, instantly bursting his bubble, there in his palm was a pistol.  (p10)

There was also many instances were it would jump back and forth from present to past tense, which also made it confusing.  I only read the first 27 pages and was so frustrated that I decided to just put it down and move on. 

The storyline of this book sounds like a good one, and some of the profits are going for a great cause, but it was just not for me.

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

At the Crossroads of Terror
Publisher/Publication Date: E.P. Publishing, June 1, 2010
ISBN: 978-0615359793

240 pages




The Strange Man by Greg Mitchell (Book Review)


Title: The Strange Man (The Coming Evil Trilogy - Book 1)
Author: Greg Mitchell
Publisher: Realms


About the book:  Dras Weldon is the son and brother of pastors.  He has grown up believing in God, but at 22 is really not grown up at all.  He wastes his rent money on action figures, money he usually has to get from his parents, and spends his nights getting loaded at The Rave Scene.  Rosalyn, his best friend since they were kids, usually is the one who cleans up after him and makes sure he gets home okay.  They can usually be found together, and if not at The Rave Scene are watching movies together or on the phone.  Dras hasn't given it much thought, much like his faith, but really couldn't live without Rosalyn.

Rosalyn, however, has been accepted at a college out of state.  She is not sure she is going to be able to leave Dras, even though they are just friends. Then, one night at The Rave, she dances with a stranger, one that leaves her breathless and lingers in her mind.  Unfortunately, he is the devil in disguise, and he is both attracted to her and wants to kill her, as she reminds him of someone from his past.

This Strange Man - as the few who see him in his true form think of him, has not walked the streets of Greensboro for a long time. There are stories that have been passed down from generation to generation about the bogeyman that scratches on children's windows and if they are still awake he snatches them away.  Could this be the bogeyman?

The Strange Man realizes that he will not be able to have Rosalyn until Dras is out of the picture.  Their love and loyalty for each other is too pure, so he shows his true self to Dras.  He finds he cannot harm Dras as he is protected by God, so tells him to leave town or Rosalyn will pay.  Dras realizes he cannot leave Rosalyn to face the strange man alone and sets out to share with Rosalyn about God's love - but will it be too little too late?  Has the life he lived up to this point made too big of an impact on her already?

My thoughts:  This is one book that I could not put down!  I ended up staying up way later than I should have one night to finish it - and then remembered it was the first of a trilogy!!!  I can't wait for book 2 to go on with the story.  Where it was a good ending for book 1, there is still so much that can happen and so much that we don't know.  I really liked Dras.  He was very realistically portrayed as a young 20 something in today's world - someone who is searching for something, but at the same time not really looking. The book would be great for someone who is on the line about their faith or as a good jumping off point to introduce someone to Christ without overwhelming them at all.  I can't say it enough - terrific book and terrifying at the same time!

Find Greg Mitchell at his blog - The Official Home of The Coming Evil Trilogy

~Special thanks to Anna Coelho Silva Publicity Coordinator, Book Group Strang Communications for sending me a review copy.~

Go here to read the first chapter of The Strange Man.The Strange Man: The Coming Evil, Book One
Publisher/Publication Date: Realms, Feb 1, 2011
ISBN: 978-1-61638-194-3
304 pages



First Wild Card Tour: The Strange Man by Greg Mitchell

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!

THIS WAS SUCH A GOOD BOOK!  Read my review here!


Today's Wild Card author is:


and the book:

Realms (February 1, 2011)
***Special thanks to Anna Coelho Silva | Publicity Coordinator, Book Group | Strang Communications for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:


Greg Mitchell likes monsters. So much, in fact, he has written this trilogy about a small town learning to take a stand on faith and challenge the dark forces creeping in. Greg is a Christian who believes that the Bible is 100 percent true, and he does his best to live his life according to its principles and write things that help teach others about Jesus Christ. Back in 2001, he co-wrote the novel Time Changer, published by White Harvest Books, with his friend and Christian filmmaker, Rich Christiano. In 2002, Time Changer was made into a theatrically released motion picture, and it is now available on DVD. Greg lives with his wife and daughter in Paragould, Arkansas.


Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Dras Weldon is a twenty-two-year-old unemployed washout. He lives in a world populated by horror movies and comic books, content to hide in the shadow of adolescence. Under the scrutinizing eye of his older brother, Jeff, a pastor, Dras lives a life of professed Christianity with very little observable spirituality. He must change. However, when a demon known only as “the Strange Man” comes to his small town of Greensboro and threatens Dras’s best friend, Rosalyn Myers, Dras discovers that only by putting his faith into action can he save his friend from danger. Suddenly he is thrust into a race against the clock and forced to battle demonic forces in an effort to convince Rosalyn to accept Christ and turn away from the coming evil.



Product Details:

List Price: $13.99
Paperback: 304 pages
Publisher: Realms (February 1, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1616381949
ISBN-13: 978-1616381943

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:


Monday, January 31, 2011

It's Monday! What Are You Reading? (Jan 31, 2011)





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! 


Currently Reading:
Words by Ginny Yttrup
Living Inside The Testimony: A Testimony of GOD's Amazing Love and Abundant Blessings by Betty Collier


Next Up:
Beyond the Wall: A Memoir by Dolores Cross
Book of Days: A Novel by James Rubart
The Matchmaker of Kenmare: A Novel of Ireland by Frank Delaney

E-Book:
Redeemer - A Novel by Jeffrey S. Williams


Bathroom Book:

The Poison Tree: A Novel by Erin Kelly

Audio Book:
The Unnamed by Joshua Ferris - Not making any headway on this - need to bring it in out of the car!



Reviewed Last Week:
Never Been Kissed by Melody Carlson
The Science of Kissing: What Our Lips Are Telling Us by Sheril Kirshenbaum
Yours For the Taking by Robin Kaye

Children's Books Reviewed Last Week:
Meet Einstein by Mariela Kleiner

Waiting for Reviews:
Food and Live Well: Lose Weight, Get Fit, and Taste Life at Its Very Best by Chantal Hobbs

The Proper Care and Maintenance of Friendship by Lisa Verge Higgins
At the Crossroads of Terror by Lenny Emanuelli

NEW GIVEAWAYS:
The Science of Kissing by Sheril Kirshenbaum
 

Ready- Set- Read!

Sunday, January 30, 2011

Mail Time! (Jan 31, 2011)




 Mailbox Monday's host for January is Rose City Reader.In My Mailbox is hosted Sundays at The Story Siren. Please visit this posts and take a look at what packages everybody else got this week! 



Minding Ben
by Victoria Brown

"The whole thing, from start to finish, from first talk to walk off the plane, took about ten weeks total.  That was it.  Ten weeks and I went from a small village on a small island to the middle of New York City."

So begins Minding Ben, and Grace Caton's story of leaving her small village in Trinidad to immigrate to New York in search of a better life.  However, as with so many things in life, not all goes quite as planned:  Instead of limitless opportunity and an easy path to an education, through a series of mishaps Grace finds herself working as a nanny for a wealthy family, the Bruckners.  While Ben, their young son, is delightful, the demanding and humiliating work that his parents subject Grace to, for meager wages, little thanks, and promises of future aid and assistance, is nearly too much to bear.  That, coupled with the complicated playground politics among the small West Indian babysitting community and complicated relationships among her extended family and friends in Brooklyn, makes the reality of Grace's young life seem like a waking nightmare.

Minding Ben invites readers into the private world of the anonymous West Indian babysitters who have peopled the lives of so many young urban families for decades, while offering a rarely seen account of the immigrant experience in this strong, compassionate, and insightful narrative.

~I received this book from Hyperion Voice and will be reviewing in April.~


Flavors
by Emily Sue Harvey

Emily Sue Harvey's first novel, Song of Renewal, was praised by New York Times bestselling author Jill Marie Landis as "an uplifting, heartwarming story." By bestselling author Kay Allenbaugh as a work that will "linger in the memory long after readers put it aside," and by Coffee Time Romance as "a must-read book for anyong doing a little soul searching."  New York Times bestselling author Steve Berry said, "It captures your attention, and whets your appetite for more," while Peeking between the Pages called it "quite simply a beautiful book."

Now, in Flavors, this master storyteller of the human heart sweeps us along with twelve-year-old Sadie Ann Melton as she enters a life-altering season.  The summer of 1950 will change everything for her.  For in that summer, she will embark on an odyssey at once heartbreakingly tender and crushingly brutal.  At times, she will experience more darkness than she has ever witnessed before.  At others, she will thrill to lightness and joy she never imagined.  By summer's end, the Melton women in Sadie's journey - loving her, coaxing her, and commanding her - will help shape her into the woman she becomes.  And they will expose Sadie to all the flavors of life as she savors the world that she brings into being.

Filled with charm, wisdom, and the smorgasbord of emotions that comes with the first steps into adulthood, Flavors once again proves Emily Sue Harvey's unique ability to touch our souls with her unforgettable stories.


~I received this book from Pump Up Your Book Tours and will be reviewing in April.~


That's it for me this week - What came in your mailbox?

Friday, January 28, 2011

Kids Korner: Meet Einstein by Mariela Kleiner

Title: Meet Einstein
Author: Mariela Kleiner
Illustrated by: Viviana Garofoli
Publisher: Meet Books, LLC


My thoughts: This is a great introduction to Einstein and scientists for pre-school age kids.  The illustrations are big and colorful, and there are not a lot of words on a page.  It introduces kids to the concepts of light and all the different places and colors that we can find light.  It also talks about gravity and how gravity keeps the earth, sun and moon where they are.  At the end of the book are some questions for kids that will continue to help them relate these concepts to their everyday lives.  Great book!

About the author: Mariela Kleiner was inspired to write this book when her daughter Hailey chose a grown-up book for her bedtime story, which happened to be Einstein's book, "Relativity."  Hailey was a persistent two-year-old, so Mariela improvised the story of Albert Einstein so that her daughter could understand it.  Starting with "Meet Albert Einstein.  He is a scientist," the story for this book was born. This is Mariela's first childen's book publication.  She currently lives in Northern California with her husband and two children.

About the illustrator:  Viviana Garofoli was born in Buenos Aires, Argentina, where she currently lives with her husband and two daughters, April and Emma.  After pursuing a successful career in fine arts, Viviana changed her focus to illustrating children's books.  Over the past 15 years, Viviana has illustrated over 20 children's books and has created illustrations for various editorials and textbooks in Argentina and Puerto Rico.

~I received a complimentary copy of this book from JKS Communications in exchange for my review.~

Publisher/Publication Date: Meet Books, LLC, March 1, 2011
ISBN: 978-0615389738
32 pages






Thursday, January 27, 2011

The Science of Kissing by Sheril Kirshenbaum (Book Review and Giveaway!)

Title: The Science of Kissing: What Our Lips Are Telling Us
Author: Sheril Kirshenbaum
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing


My thoughts:  This book examines kissing in about every way you could possibly imagine.  Starting with what different cultures find attractive and how kissing is viewed throughout the world and throughout time.  That part was pretty interesting - learning about some meaning behind kissing and learning about non-traditional kisses in cultures - that include sniffing or smelling another person and just touching them.  It also talks about the different ways that animals kiss and show emotion.

From that point it goes into the different physical changes that happen in the body, including hormones that are released and how hormones themselves affect the kiss.  (Ever kiss someone that you were hoping for romance with only to feel like you were kissing your brother?)  It also talks about the different bacteria and viruses that are present in saliva and how they can affect your well-being.

That gives you an overview of part of the book - other things discussed are what happens in the brain when we kiss and I liked the 10 tips at the end to make one a better kisser - based on all the scientific studies used in the book.

~I received a complimentary copy of this book from Hachette Books in exchange for my review.~

Thanks to Hachette Books I have 2 copies of this book to giveaway.  Giveaway is open to US/Canada only - no PO boxes.  It will end Feb 17, 2011.

Mandatory entry: Just leave a comment with your email address.
Additional entries:  Follow me through Google, Facebook, Networked Blogs, Twitter, etc - all information in right column.
Tweet or post about this contest.
Please leave additional entries in separate comments.





The Science of Kissing: What Our Lips Are Telling Us
Publisher/Publication Date: Grand Central Publishing, Jan 2011
ISBN: 978-0-446-55990-4
272 pages



Never Been Kissed by Melody Carlson (Book Review)

Title: Never Been Kissed
Author: Melody Carlson
Publisher: Revell


About the Book: Elise will be starting her junior year of high school in a few weeks, and she is not looking forward to it. Her single mom has taken a new job and she had to move to another town - so she is starting at a new school.  The only person she knows is a somewhat geeky freshman, Stacie, that lives in the same apartment building as her.

Going to stay at Grandma's, in her old town, the week before school starts proves somewhat fortuitous.  She meets Asher Gordon through an old friend who is dating his cousin.  Asher is also a student at Elise's new school.  While it is made clear that he has a girlfriend, Elise is just hopeful that he will say hello to her if they run into each other.

Well, Asher does more than that - he befriends Elise on that first day and introduces her to his "A-list" friends - including his girlfriend Brianna. While Elise is avoiding Stacie after school, she runs into Asher who offers her a ride home.  They stop off for coffee and Elise thinks her first day couldn't have gone any better.  However, the next day at school she gets the big freeze from her new friends.  She was seen having coffee with Asher and immediately everyone thinks she is after him.  So much for her great first day.

Elise soon gets an email from Asher.  He wants her to play that they do not get along so that he can break up with Brianna.  He just doesn't want Brianna to blame her and give her a hard time all year.  Elise is pretty excited and agrees to play along.  As their relationship progresses through email, she become somewhat confused about his behavior towards her at school. While he tells her in email to just play along a little while longer, sometimes he acts at school like he wants to be friends.

Before Elise knows what hit her, she is arrested for something she didn't do and the whole school is laughing at her. Even her mom thinks she is guilty. During her darkest hour, she realizes that the only one she is going to be able to count on to get her through is God, and starts to try to figure out who set her up.

My thoughts:  Great book for teens and tweens about the dangers of the internet and cyber bullying - among other things.  I don't want to tell you the big twist, but it made me sit down and talk with my teens.  I don't think that I have read a Melody Carlson book that didn't have some lesson in it that put things in perspective for teens without preaching at them.  Highly recommend for any teen that has a MySpace or Facebook page or spends any amount of time online or texting!

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

Available January 2011 at your favorite bookseller from Revell, a division of Baker Publishing Group.”


Visit Melody's website at http://www.melodycarlson.com/.

Never Been Kissed: A Novel
Publisher/Publication Date: Revell, Jan 2011
ISBN: 978-0-8007-3259-2
216 pages

Yours for the Taking by Robin Kaye (Book Review)


Title: Yours for the Taking
Author: Robin Kaye
Publisher: Sourcebooks Casablanca


About the book: Ben and Gina were about as different as they could be.  Ben was extremely wealthy, some family money, some of his own.  But he lacked the one thing he really wanted - the ranch in Idaho were he had grown up. In order to inherit this ranch, his grandfather has imposed an ultimatum - Ben must get married.

Gina was street smart and successful on her own.  She had grown up hard and had pretty much raised her little sister. Even though her sister was now married, she had a hard time not worrying about her. Gina was working hard to buy the house of her dreams and help her sister to do the same.  The only thing missing in her life was the little brother that was given up for adoption - no - actually her father sold him to supply his habits. She has a plan for her life - and it doesn't include marriage.

Never say never - Ben approaches Gina, they were only acquaintances, and made a proposal.  If she were to marry him, he would make sure she was pretty much set for life, and they could end the marriage as soon as he gets the ranch.  After much consideration, Gina agrees - she will get her house, will be able to make life easier for her sister, have the money she needs to find her brother - and Ben is gay, so there will be no complications - right?

Only Ben is not gay - he doesn't lie to Gina, he just doesn't correct her assumption. They marry in a quick ceremony and buy a house in New York - one that Gina will live in while Ben keeps his current abode.  Only grandpa in Idaho doesn't fold that easily - he wants Ben and his new bride in Idaho for a honeymoon, and takes steps to arrange it - unbeknownst to the new couple.

My thoughts:  This was a fun romance to read.  I think you can probably figure out what happens, but the road getting there wasn't always smooth. I found myself rooting for Gina to let her skeletons out of the closet. Both Ben and Gina were easy to like, but they could both be stubborn!

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

You can find Robin Kaye at http://www.robinkayewrites.com/.


Yours for the Taking
Publisher/Publication Date: Sourcebooks Casablanca, Jan 2011
ISBN: 978-1-4022-4010-2
370 pages

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