Allison Tebo's Blog, page 17

Try The World Vlog

 

 

Hello travelers!  I recently signed up for three months of Try The World’s monthly subscription box to bring a little of the international to my home.  I hope you enjoy the mini adventure; I wasn’t quite prepared for a vlog (felt half alive on this particular day) but that is part of what makes these things an adventure, right? 

Word Prompt – 01

Introducing Allison’s Well First Word Prompt!
Just a quick shout out to my Victoria at Ruffles and Grace – because she is the only blogger I have seen who posts word prompts on her blog.  ‘bows to the lovely Victoria’

 

And now – onto the prompt.

 

           He peered up at the gate.  It had been years since he had ever dared step into this forbidden city.  Death was inside its walls.  He knew he was risking his life to pass through that gate, but he had no choice.
            He pulled his cloak further down over his head and readjusted his grip on his staff as he neared the guards that stood on either side of the narrow entrance.  It was like stepping down the throat of a great creature—a sleeping and evil monster.
            The sinking sun bathed the flagstones with a queer greenish-blue light and the effect, combined with the increasing pressure on his chest, made him feel as if he were swimming underwater.
            “Focus,” he murmured the word aloud.
            But then his focus was irrevocably broken when he found himself looking up and straight into the eyes of Tren Blackmarr—a man he knew well . . . and an imperial soldier.  Of all days to be on patrol, Tren would be here, now, on this day.
            For an instant, their eyes locked together.  For less than an instant he thought that Tren might not turn him in—but that faint hope was crushed as Trent wrenched his sword free from its sheath and shouted:  “Spy—arrest him!”
            He blocked the blade that hurtled towards him with a clever twist of his staff, but Tren was quicker—much quicker than he had once been.  Tren slipped his sword past his defenses and pain suddenly exploded inside of him.  He was dimly aware of Tren pulling the sword free from his body.
           Adrenaline flared out of the pain, the need to survive rose to his defense and he felt himself spinning his staff, striking out viciously and knocking Tren to the ground with a few savage blows before he turned and ran for his life.
            His breath shuddered in his ears, ragged and sharp.  He could hear the soldiers gaining on his stumbling progress.
            He seized the edge of a market cart and heaved with a strength he barely had left.  The cart overturned and produce scattered in all directions.  The angry owner cursed, slipped on an orange, then went down with a squawk, forming a human barrier as he scrambled to right himself and his produce.
            He darted down a side street—running past open doors and open mouths and then the spike of energy suddenly dipped away.   He swayed, clutching at his stomach and looked down at his fingers to see blood flowing like red sand from an hourglass.  Something shifted inside of him—a king of draining that he had never felt before.  It was over, he was going to die.
            “Please, just a little longer God,” he whispered.  “Not for me, for the others.”
            He barely registered the people he was stumbling past now, no one spared him more than a glance and a gasp—except for one.  A small young woman with a narrow face, huge dark eyes and dark hair.  She did more than stare—she moved towards him.
            “Sir?” she asked.  “Are you all right?  Sir!” she gasped and threw out her arms to try to catch him as he pitched forward.  She wasn’t strong enough to hold him up and ended up toppling with him to the cold, hard flagstones and piles of refuse.  Garbage skittered in all directions, disturbing a par of rats who ran, squealing, into the shadows.
            The girl tried to worm out from under him and still keep his head in her lap.  “You’re wounded!  What hap—”
            “Soldiers,” he gasped.
            The girls hands, cupped on either side of his face, froze.  He felt them tremble.  She looked down at the wound then reached to tear off the edge of her tunic.
            “It’s hopeless,” he said sharply.  “But all is not lost.”
            “I don’t understand,” the girl murmured.
            He reached for his staff with an effort.
            “I’ll get it for you,” she said, scuttling to pick it up and handing it out to him.
            He shook his head—he couldn’t do it himself.  “Unscrew the head.”
            Her eyes widened as she obeyed and peered into the empty cylinder inside.
            “Take out the paper.”
            She did as he said and held the message out to him.
            “No, you keep it,” he coughed.  “It’s a message.  You must take it to the market and give it to the man that is selling lamps in the shadow of the Tower.  Lives depend upon it.”
            “I don’t know who you are or where you’re from,” the girl whispered.  “I’m sorry, I can’t.  I must report this.”
            “Don’t report anything!” he rasped.  “You’d be better off like me than to be one of their informants.”
            She looked at him—a long, frozen look, as if she were seeing someone else in his face who had said the same thing to her before.  Her face looked like untouched snow, with two dark holes in the center of it for eyes.
            “I already am an informant,” she said softly.
            Despair and shock washed over him.  An informant.  Nearly the worst person he could be with now.  His chest constricted and a cry of pain tore from his lips.
            She whimpered and rested her hands on his shoulders.  “There must be something I can do.”
            He tried to focus on her face, tried to read it, tried to pray.  Other people had seen him, but they had passed him by—she was different.  She had to be.
            “You can do something,” he choked.  “You helped me, help me again.”  He lifted his hand and curled her fingers down around the note, leaving a streak of blood across her knuckles.  “To the seller of lamps.  Please, take it.  You’re the last hope.  This is greater than both of us.”
            Her eyes widened.
            “It’s not too late to change,” he whispered.
            She stared at him . . . opened her mouth to speak, then jerked and turned her head.   He could dimly hear the clanging of metal-shod feet, the rattling of chain mail.
            The soldiers had found them.

The Truth About Bartholomew

 

 

Some of you may know that I really loved a recent movie called Risen.
One thing I noticed while looking at reviews, was that Christians were consistently insulted over the portrayal of Bartholomew, believing that the filmmakers were trying to mock Christians and even worse, perceiving his character as a fool.

 

So I decided to write this post to try to explain my perception of Bartholomew.

I believe one of the number one problems people have with Bartholomew’s portrayal is the following.
Consistently and persistently cheerful people are always perceived as stupid. 
Why?  I believe that cheerful people make people feel guilty, they are a reminder to unhappy people of the behavior that they are not exhibiting.
The truth is this.  Cheerful people aren’t too stupid to know any better.  They actually know something others don’t know.  Cheerful people cast light on people that rebelliously choose to be miserable when they ought to be rejoicing.  Thus, to remove the heat, people dismiss them as fools who are too dumb to know what life is ‘really like’.  On the contrary, cheerful people do know what life is like, more clearly than unhappy people, because they are focused on either the big picture, or the minutiae of the moment in front of them.  They have a divine gift of being able to look at a hard life and know that it is better to carry a light heart than tons of baggage and that in the light of eternity—most of the things that keep us from being cheerful are not really important.
Problem number two:
Christians have a weakness, they keep looking for perfection on earth.  Christians have a tendency to believe that the more like Jesus we become, the less we will be like ourselves.  It is in fact the opposite.  The more we are like Jesus, the more our true essence will be released.
Christians want to portray the disciples as identical saints in matching white robes, but the truth is the disciples were just men like everybody else.  And in the case of Risen, Christians ought to really examine themselves, because non-believing Gentile filmmakers might be more honest than we are with the portrayal of the God’s people.
Bartholomew and Peter were the two disciples that the filmmakers decided to focus on for this film and they went to great lengths to show their individuality, to show that they are ‘just men’.  One of them is a happy-go-lucky person and the other is a serious individual.
So let’s take these too characters to demonstrate how God increases the personalities that are already there.  Bartholomew was probably naturally a buoyant and positive person and Peter was naturally an intense and analytical person.  When Christ comes into their lives, those traits are doubled, not diminished.  They are refined, by being put in a constant revolution around the hub of truth—Christ.  Those traits are now focused on God, and thus they expand.  Bartholomew is twice as joyful, twice as hopeful—Peter is twice as passionate, twice as wise.
There is a largess about God that Christians have difficulty accepting.  They focus on the buffing (the rough edges that God must sand away) instead of the enlargement.   It’s like people worrying about workmen ripping up a dirty old carpet in order to build a brand new room.   They focus on the God who ‘comes to take away’, instead of the God ‘who comes to give’.
God came to make sons, not robots—he delights in individualities, just as an artist rejoices in every brushstroke of a painting.
And now—let’s break down Bartholomew, scene by scene.
Bartholomew Is Not Stupid:
Do you really think you could live with Christ, see Him die, then rise from the dead, proclaimed as the Son of God and be normal?  Bartholomew is giddy, he is unable to suppress his joy.   Giddy:  to make (someone) feel excited to the point of disorientation.
Because Bartholomew stutters somewhat incoherently about what he has seen—he is perceived as either simple minded or brain damaged.
But Bartholomew has been a front row witness to something the world has been anticipating for centuries.  He has seen the world change before his eyes—death has been overthrown, the Messiah has come.  If that doesn’t make you irrepressibly giddy, I don’t know what will.
Simply because he has an ear to ear grin on his face, Bartholomew is perceived as stupid.  As if Christians weren’t supposed to be happy!!  Why shouldn’t Bartholomew smile?  His Master was and is the Son of God.  As he says himself:  “This.  Changes.  Everything.”
Christians praying in tongues after the Pentecost were considered drunk, and there is an emotion when one is filled with God’s Spirit that could be perceived as ‘drunkenness’, because the person has so little thought or control over themselves.  They are too taken up with an all-encompassing euphoria—in this case, Christ.  They are ‘drunk on Christ’.
Bartholomew even admits that he looks and sounds crazy.  “God?”  The Roman soldier snarls.  “God manifests himself in a crazy, poor, dead Jew?”  Bartholomew laughs—he understands how ludicrous it sounds, he knows it’s ludicrous (it is beyond all human reasoning and understanding) and he embraces the insanity of truth.  “So it appears,” Bartholomew responds to the Roman with another joyful smile.
Bartholomew actually does drop pearls of wisdom and exhibits a mature Christian attitude, but it is MISSED by the undiscerning Clavius (and some of the movie’s audience) simply because he has a happy grin on his face.   When Clavius challenges him to conjure Christ up to prove that he is risen, Bartholomew smiles gently and shakes his head:  “God is not at my beck and call.”  A simple statement, filled with so much wisdom.  Bartholomew is a humble man, and he is also a kind man, he is not angered by Clavius’ irreverence, he knows the man can’t help his darkened mind and he tries to explain Clavius’ mistake simply, in terms he can understand.
Bartholomew also reveals his great faith.  When Clavius asks him ‘How many are you?”  Bartholomew responds.  “Well, we are few . . . for now.”  His faith is great, even in the odds of adversity, even though this is the craziest thing that has ever happened in this world, he believes that God will multiple their numbers.
Bartholomew even calls Clavius on the carpet.  When the Roman asks him what the Christians intentions are, Bartholomew asks him:  “Why do you fear Him so?”  But instead of approaching him in a dogmatic ‘you’re wrong’ fashion (as many Christians are prone to do) Bartholomew’s tone and manner are utterly non-offensive, removing the barb from his comment.
Bartholomew was wise as a serpent and gentle as a dove.  He can laugh at the darkened reasoning of the unbeliever, rejoicing that he no longer reasons in that darkness.
As he dances out of the fort, he doesn’t leave worries behind him.  He has given his witness, and the rest is in God’s hands.  He is not responsible for Clavius.  All he has to focus on is how Jesus snatched him out of the fire.  That is his immediate work, to thank God and to be glad.  Bartholomew is very focused on the present moment—which is what God focuses on and what He wishes us to focus on.
Bartholomew Is Not A Coward:
As the soldiers break down a door and demand of the crowd within which one is Bartholomew, Bartholomew leaps to his feet without hesitation and says:  “I am he.”
Bartholmew’s faith in Jesus is so great, that when Clavius asks him if he wants to be executed, he kneels and says he will gladly submit to death.
Now this line, at first, seems inconsistent with the next moment.
As Clavius threatens Bartholomew with torture and execution, describing Jesus’ death in detail, Bartholomew’s countenance falters.  At first this scene puzzled me—was he afraid?—until someone pointed out that Bartholomew wasn’t afraid at all.  Note that this moment begins when Clavius maliciously points out that he didn’t see Bartholomew at the Crucifixion, because ‘he ran’.  It is then that Bartholomew’s expression falters.  He is filled with horror as he thinks about what happened to Jesus, and how he is guilty because he abandoned Jesus to that fate.  Bartholomew isn’t thinking about his safety at all, he is conscience-stricken over a past deed.  Bartholomew is not a coward at all.
Bartholmew’s Unique Gifts:
Contrary to public opinion, naturally cheerful people do struggle with negative emotions—they experience sorrow, pain and guilt just like everyone else, but they make a choice to exhibit cheerfulness.  Bartholomew‘s joy is shaken when Clavius taunts him about his abandonment of Jesus.  We can see him slipping away from the hope of Christ.  Then we see Bartholomew visibly making a choice.  His head comes up, the gleam returns.  He remembers that Jesus died and rose—for him.  Past mistakes cannot be reversed, but the consequences have been changed.  Bartholomew gets his thinking back on the right track—back to Jesus—and his joy is renewed.
Bartholomew might seem like he is living on another planet, but he is very much aware of how his world works and instead of eclipsing himself from that world, he works with it.  He knows how unbelievers think and reason and he exhibits his enlightened mind once again by twisting the Roman’s own words to secure his freedom—and slipping in one last declaration of truth at the same time.  And the way that he does it is hilarious.  Bartholomew has embraced the ludicrous again, his euphoria bubbles forth again—even he can barely believe the truth.
Bartholomew is not an articulate speaker, he doesn’t use brilliant arguments to debunk Clavius’ erroneous reasoning, he doesn’t have a Bible verse to back up everything he says, he merely relates with sincerity what Jesus has done for him.
He doesn’t have to use fine words – he is a vessel for what Clavius has never had or even glimpsed—a brilliant, triumphant joy.  A grim and fallen world has no idea what this is, and this is enough to arouse Clavius’ interest.  This is so unique, Clavius knows this is different, he knows it is ‘unnatural’ and he is drawn towards the warm flame of Bartholomew’s peace.
All Bartholomew has to do is be a consistent vessel of that joy and let his light shine.
As one man once said:  “God doesn’t need a defense attorney, He needs a witness.”  Bartholomew, in his simple words and consistent joy, is a faithful witness.
And he just as faithfully uses his gift and calling throughout the movie. 
Bartholomew is an exhorter. 
When Clavius is sitting shocked and defeated in the upper room with Jesus and the disciples, it is Bartholomew who goes over to sit with him.  Bartholomew extends the hand of brotherhood and acceptance to a man that had previously wished to kill them.  Bartholomew is the fragrance of life to this man with his consistent love for the people around him.
While on the beach at Galilee, we see several disciples witnessing to citizens before they depart.  I noticed that Bartholomew was not teaching or preaching, he was holding the belongings of another disciple, watching, and when the disciple finished, he encouraged him in what he had said.
Bartholomew is a renewer, a refresher—he was not designed to stand on street corners and evangelize—exhorters are not preachers or evangelists.  Bartholomew is predominately for the Church, but as he goes about his business, exhorting and loving God’s lambs, many a non-believer might follow this joyful person into God’s fold—with very little effort on Bartholomew’s part, because God has given him a charisma as powerful as the Pied Piper.
Bartholomew does not have to be a great speaker or harass people into the kingdom, he merely has to rejoice in his share of the kingdom, and let that joy shine.
I looked at that character on the screen and understood—because I saw myself.
Bartholomew reacted in the same way I would have reacted in that situation.  I am a Bartholomew.
Other Christians have tried to shame me into being something I’m not—twisting scripture to tell me I ought to be able to defend my faith or my convictions with perfect arguments with each point validated by an appropriate Bible verse.  Other people might perceive me as immature, foolish, or even out of touch with reality.
But it doesn’t matter.
I know who I am, and more importantly, God sees me, far better than I see myself – and His directive is plain.  I must share the joy He has made me a custodian of freely, but guard it fiercely, never letting anyone take it away from me . . .  for it is the bread I cast upon the waters.
And I trust the Lord to return it to me.

 

 

And last of all, I leave you with this opening scene of Bartholomew.  I hope that people who have seen Risen will watch it with fresh eyes. 
I hope that people who can relate to Bartholomew have been encouraged to hold onto their joy. 
I hope that people who are different from Bartholomew are not discouraged, but encouraged to accept happy people for who they are and accept their gift of joy just as we eagerly learn to accept your own God-given gifts. 
All the threads in a tapestry cannot be the same, otherwise we would not have a beautiful picture. 

 

Nutshells & The Tag Of Happiness

 ‘places small shriveled nutshell on desk’
Yes, this is a VERY small nutshell for June.  Why?  Because the Black Death swept through our house in mid May and decided to stay for an extended visit.  The nasty thing had a regular holiday messing with us and nearly got the best of us a couple of times.  Because of this less-than-welcome house guest, June was mostly lived in outright survival mode, either trying to just live through the flu in our temporary hospital ward, or work and do double-duty for the infirmed.
So some of us spent June looking like this . . .

Or this . . .

We all took turns.  We’re a very fair family.
So, with that explanation out of the way – onto the teensy, tiny nutshell.

 

Hosted and wrapped up The Reluctant Godfather’s blog tour and giveaway.

 

Sketched out a ‘plan of attack’ for my future writing.

 

Wrote.  A little.  ‘nervous laugh, buries face in keyboard’

 

Updated my Goodreads Reading Challenge because I am just TOO GOOD.  #kidding.  But I did up the challenge from 120 books to 170.

 

Shipped out giveaway packages to two lucky winners.

 

Had the opportunity to share my art portfolio with an author seeking an illustrator.

 

AND – moved furniture and cleaned – a lot.  After sharing a bedroom with my two sisters for eighteen years my twin and I are moving out and my older sister will have the bedroom all to herself.

My twin and I will be moving into our living room, which we are converting into a bedroom.  Our house has one of those confounded open floor plans, so it’s taken some ingenuity (and a wall to wall row of bookshelves) to achieve some privacy and block former traffic flow.
UNFORTUNATELY – I didn’t take ‘before’ pictures of our living room.  ‘beats head against desk’.  #Iblamethesickness

And that my dear followers . . . ‘checks notes feebly’ . . . is the nutshell. 

 

 

 

I like being happy – and I like answering questions – so you can bet that I had a lovely time pulling together this tag! 

Buddies Abroad Day

 

Over the past few weeks I have been thrilled to see that my little blog has had visitors or views from the UK, Canada, Mexico, Greece, Germany, Brazil, France, Australia, New Zealand, Russia, Italy and South Korea!
Whoever you are – I want to thank you – thank you so much for visiting Allison’s Well and sharing the water – I truly hope you’ll stay and share some more.
Ever since I was small, I have always wanted an international friend; at that time, a pen-pal.  I didn’t know about, or use, the Internet.  Yeah, I’m that old. 

My Father

Daddy
Words cannot express how I feel about my Father – all I can do is open a scrapbook of memories and shares snapshots to try to capture the love in my heart for a great man I have been privileged to call ‘Dad’.
I see a man with his twins snuggled up on either side of him as he reads a picture book aloud to them. 
I see a man who, while making sales calls on a phone, rolled a ball back and forth across the room to his small daughter without tiring for hours. 
I see a man who taught me how to swim, how to ride a bike, how to drive. 
I see a man who holds my hand as I tearfully confess my wrongs and seek guidance. 
I see a man who, just the other day, played ‘catch’ with his grown daughter using jumbo-sized balloons.  I see the two of them laughing, the girl until she cries, as the game of catch dissolves into a friendly war of balloon pummeling. 
I see a man who expounds on God’s word to me for hours, giving me more wisdom and more insight than any pastor. 
I see a man who has taught me how to pray and to be soldier of God and to war against principalities and rulers of darkness. 
I see a man who has equipped me with life lessons that will carry me to the end of my life.
I see a man that did not squelch me under his authority but did not puff me up with false ideas that would lead to feminism.  He has led me down the narrow path gently and consistently—discouraging me from the rabbit trails I might have wandered onto.  Showing me reason and wisdom, but always empowering me to believe that I could be anything I wanted to be within that wisdom.
I see an intelligent man full of talent and amazing dreams.
I see a man full of wisdom, who has taught me the balance of being different from our culture, and the realism of having to live in this world. 
I see a man who’s voice lights up when he says my name.    
I see a man, creeping into my bedroom when I am sick to visit with me, pray for me, stroke my hair. 
I see a man who makes me feel safe, no matter where I am or who I’m with. 
I see a man who forgives me over and over again, and loves me unconditionally. 
I see a man who laughs with me and makes me laugh. 
I see a man who is skilled in his labor and who works hard for his family.
I see a faithful father and a faithful husband to my mother. 
I see a man who, though not perfect, presses on in the race, his heart set on finishing well. 
I see a man who is unlike any other man that has ever lived or ever will live – he is unique and one of a kind – and he’s mine – the man I am blessed to call ‘Daddy’. 
Abba
I have been so blessed that in my life to have had a father that points me to my Heavenly Father.
If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!  Matthew 7:11. 
As much as I love my earthly father, he is just a representative, only a reflection of someone far greater.  The God of the Universe, the Creator of all Things the Judge over All, is my Father.  This is a God that not only tolerates my existence, but a God who seeks me, woos me, lavishes His love upon me.   A God who sent his Son as a sacrifice and left His Spirit within me, so that I no longer have to seek intercession through a priest or ask a man to pray to God on my behalf—I can be instantly in the Father’s presence—in the presence of the one who sees and knows and loves me.
And this leads me to one of my favorite books  that I would like to share with all of you – A God To Call Father, by Michael Phillips.

This is the most important book I have ever read in my life, after the Bible.  Be warned – the author uses the allegory of climbing a mountain to lead the readers to the truths he is trying to reveal – and this book is indeed a climb out of our natural habitat of doubt and making do with less than the best.
Everything inside you will very likely be yelling  at you to stop and go back down the mountain.  You will pick up the book seeking intimacy, and very likely be scared—wondering:  “Do I want this much, intimacy?”  I know, because I felt this way.  But KEEP CLIMBING, don’t look back.  Don’t stop for anything.  Let go—keep reading—this book turned my faith right-side up and I felt my Father’s love penetrate to a part of my soul that had been walled in for far too long.
The Holy Spirit used this book to bring me to a place of knowing my Father in a way I had not known Him before.
God is the Hero of a woman’s dreams, the shining Prince that rescues us, and the Father that holds us in His arms night and day.

 

“I will say to the north, ‘Give them up!’ and to the south, ‘Do not hold them back.’ Bring my sons from afar and my daughters from the ends of the earth.”  Isaiah 43:6

 

I thank you, Lord for bringing me back over and over again.

 

The Reluctant Godfather Blog Tour Wrap-up – Giveaway Winner!

Hello everybody!  First of all – I just want to thank all the bloggers who participated in this tour.  Thank you to you nine lovely ladies and friends – you were so sweet to feature my book on your blogs and you have blessed me so much.  I am truly grateful for all you did in enabling me to launch my very first blog tour.  You are the best!

 

The Ladies – And The Posts.

Jane (Maiden Of The Misty Mountain) – Spotlight / Review.
Christine (Musings of an Elf) – Spotlight / Review.
Karyssa (No Coffee, No Can Do) – Spotlight / Review / Interview.
Faith (The Writer’s Song) – Spotlight / Review.
Tracey (Adventure Awaits):  Spotlight / Review.
Micaiah (Adventures Beyond The Horizon):  Spotlight / Review / Interview.
Kellyn (Reveries Reviews):  Spotlight / Review.
Zane (Simple Impossibilities):  Spotlight / Review / Interview.
Victoria (Ruffles and Grace):  Spotlight / Review / Interview.
And breaking news about the giveaway – BOTH first price AND second prize win chocolate – I forgot to mention that in the video – I got excited.  ‘coughs’.  I was literally so excited I started hyperventilating and I sound like a loon in this video.  ‘slides under desk and turns red’  Not to mention the crummy lighting and quality.  Oh well – I had fun! 

The Reluctant Godfather Blog Tour – Day 5.

 

The GIFs say it all.

 

Today’s wonderful blog tour participants are.

 

Zane (Simple Impossibilities):  Spotlight / Review / Interview.

 

Victoria (Ruffles and Grace):  Spotlight / Review / Interview.

 

And that concludes our feature presentation.

 

AND FOR GOODNESS SAKE, DON’T MISS THE LAST CHANCE TO ENTER THAT GIVEAWAY I’VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT ALL WEEK. 

The Reluctant Godfather Blog Tour – Day 4

WELCOME PEOPLE TO DAY 4 (count ’em, four) of The Reluctant Godfather’s Blog Tour!

 

And today’s line up of fabulous blog tour participants includes . . .

 

Micaiah (Adventures Beyond The Horizon):  Spotlight / Review / Interview.

 

Kellyn (Reveries Reviews):  Spotlight / Review.

 

And one last thing – there’s free stuff in your vivacity – don’t forget to enter the giveaway for a chance to win some great prizes!

 

 

~ Alli

The Reluctant Godfather Blog Tour – Day 3

 

Welcome to Day Three of The Reluctant Godfather’s blog tour!

 

Here is today’s beautiful blog tour participant!

 

Tracey (Adventure Awaits):  Spotlight / Review.

 

And don’t forget to swing by my giveaway and win some fabulous goodies!