Camy Tang's Blog, page 142
December 11, 2011
Christmas decorations
Captain's Log, Stardate 12.11.2011
I'm watching a TV show about the lights other people put up for Christmas. Some of them put in SO much time and work into their Christmas lights! Many of them synchronize their lights with music. One guy starts in September!
We are very low key in general. We have a fake wreath that I've decorated with Hawaiian themed Christmas ornaments and a string of lights, which we pull out every year. This year we might get a small tree, too.
What do you guys do for Christmas decorations? Post pics on my Goodreads thread if you can!
I'm watching a TV show about the lights other people put up for Christmas. Some of them put in SO much time and work into their Christmas lights! Many of them synchronize their lights with music. One guy starts in September! We are very low key in general. We have a fake wreath that I've decorated with Hawaiian themed Christmas ornaments and a string of lights, which we pull out every year. This year we might get a small tree, too.
What do you guys do for Christmas decorations? Post pics on my Goodreads thread if you can!
December 5, 2011
Excerpt - F.A.I.R.I.E.S.: Baptism by Fire by M. C. Pearson
Camy here: I'm just terribly excited to post this excerpt of this book because M.C. Pearson has been an internet friend of mine for a long time. This is perfect for a tween girl in your life who loves fantasy--I would have loved this when I was 11 or 12. Actually, the illustrations reminded me of the Harry Potter books a bit, making it even more enjoyable. I hope you enjoy this excerpt!
Today's Wild Card author & illustrator is:
M. C. Pearson
and the book:
F.A.I.R.I.E.S.: Baptism by Fire
FIRST Wild Card Press (December 5, 2011)
***Special thanks to M. C. Pearson of FIRST Wild Card Press for sending me a review copy.***
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
M. C. Pearson graduated from San Jose State University with a B. A. in art, served as a multi-media illustrator in the United States Army, earning the rank of sergeant, and spent four years as a house parent for at-risk youth. Now married over 20 years, she homeschools her two children, volunteers with her church youth group, and runs a book review blog alliance (FIRST Wild Card Tours) while writing and drawing. F.A.I.R.I.E.S.: Baptism by Fire is her first novel.
Visit the author's website.
SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:
Unwittingly chosen to join an army of fairies, who fight for the Light of the One, a teenaged girl learns about spiritual warfare as she attends a military academy with fantastical beings.
FROM THE BACK COVER:
Here lies a most precious treasure,
Awaiting one Chosen to deliver.
Seek out the red cousins in the East,
For on this your greed mustn't feast.
The wealth of a species now in your hands,
Do with it as the light demands.
Give them your gift to unite,
For it is the darkness we all must fight.
EDITORIAL REVIEWS:
Product Details:
List Price: $17.99
Paperback: 482 pages
Publisher: FIRST Wild Card Press (December 5, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0615530222
ISBN-13: 978-0615530222
AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:
Four thousand seasons shall pass while our swords grow rusty.
Where once one chose to divide, another shall be chosen to unite.
One changed the past, the other shall change the future.
One must emancipate the other to allow the light its dominion.
The realm, now torn, allows the shadow to abide, as humanity lies blind to its peril.
The bond of friendship must endure, for the army of shadows awaits another tear.
Dust off your swords.
Unite the realm.
Destroy the strongholds.
Foretelling of Didasko Gnome Digdeep
†
PART ONE
MANY ARE CALLED
BUT
FEW ARE CHOSEN
†
CHAPTER ONE
Off and Running
t was an accident!" Mellie yelled, not caring who heard or stared. Tears streaked her face as she fled down the Santa Cruz coastline, away from her family.
You don't need them, a voice hissed in her ear, Escape. Run away.
Scorching sand burned at her feet and bitterness ate at her heart. Mellie pumped her legs as fast as they would go. Her feet pounded with the rhythm of her emotions, beating a tempo with the crashing waves. Run-a-way. Run-a-way. Run-a-way. Adrenaline pulsed through her veins, quickening her step.
Why did I have to be the youngest? Only 12 years old. Never smart enough. Never athletic enough. I just wish they loved me.
Once, just once, she wanted to do something that would make her sisters see that she wasn't the stupid, awkward, ugly, little baby sister.
As she ran, she wiped away some tears with the palm of her hand. Her fingers settled on her large nose, a gift from her dad's Hungarian ancestry.
Chelsea got the ski-slope shaped nose. I had to get Half-Dome. It just isn't fair.
Her hand dropped to her side and she pinched at her stomach. It still had some of its baby fat.
Ugh, why are my sisters so perfect? What happened to me?
Pushing her short bangs from her forehead in disgust, she mumbled, "Maybe I'll find treasure. I'll be the rich one, and then they'll have to accept me." But she knew better. California didn't hold any more undiscovered treasures.
The sand, hot and coarse, cut at her feet. I wish I had remembered my shoes. She wore only a black, one-piece swimsuit and a San Jose Sharks sweatshirt tied tightly around her waist.
Breathing rapidly, she began to tire. She slowed her pace to a walk and looked back across the beach. The sand was so hot that waves of heat rose from it and blurred her view. A lone seagull screeched overhead.
Her sisters were nowhere in sight.
Man, I thought for sure that Chelsea was going to chase me down and kill me.
She had to admit that it was a little gratifying to see the sand fly from her foot, covering Chelsea's sub-sandwich and freshly oiled stomach. Grinning slightly, the tears stopped flowing. She rubbed her eyes.
Mellie looked in the direction of her sisters. "You guys can never take a joke." Flipping her golden hair, she turned her head back toward her chosen path. She no longer smiled as she stomped her feet in the cold surf, remembering the hateful words that had been said.
"Oh, waa waa, you stupid cry baby! Go tell mommy! Maybe she'll feel sorry for her ugly, fat baby. Why don't you grow up? We don't want you near us. Can't you understand English? You are so dumb. Look at her mouth open. Oh wait, here she goes…come on, baby…cry!"
Mellie knew she couldn't go back. They would only ridicule and torment her further. Her mom would never believe it was Chelsea's fault. No, the evidence was on Chelsea's side. Who was the one with the sand all over her oily, coconut-smelling body? Who was the one who had a sandwich full of sand? Mellie walked on.
After her temper finally cooled, it occurred to her that she had never walked so far alone.
How far have I gone?
A shadow passed over her, and she looked up. Nothing was there. A cool breeze from the ocean created a stark contrast to the scalding sand. She shivered but kept walking, lost in her loneliness.
Not until she stubbed her toe on a large broken clamshell did she look at the beach. A chill snaked up her back. Nothing appeared familiar. The sounds of the surf were still there, yet something was decidedly different. She felt dizzy. Looking around, she could not quite pinpoint the change. Then it struck her.
No people.
Where did everybody go?
Even though she could see no one, Mellie could swear that she felt eyes staring at her.
She looked inland across the sand, saw movement near some eucalyptus trees, but decided that the wind must have caused it.
Trees? So close to the beach?
Something shook the trees again, causing goosebumps to stand out on Mellie's arms. Alarmed, she checked the skyline. The sun was close to setting. She hoped that the police weren't out looking for her.
Suddenly cold, she pulled at the arms of the sweatshirt still tied around her waist. It fell to the sand. Bending to pick it up, she once again saw a blur of movement, except this time it came from a rocky outcrop by the waves. She shook the sand out of the sweatshirt and hurriedly tugged it over her head.
"Okay, I'm seeing things." Mellie yanked at her hair, pulling it out of the sweatshirt. She stared at the sinister rocks. "Hel-lo?" Her voice cracked as she spoke louder. "Is someone the-ere? Hello?" No answer. The shadowy rocks seemed to quiver with excitement, beckoning her closer.
Hmm…probably just a seagull.
Even if it was a bird, she did not want to see it.
There's no way I'm going over there.
The wind picked up and blew her hair into her eyes. The sand spun with the wind.
Yes, definitely time to move. I need to find a road.
She turned back toward the sweet smelling, oddly placed trees.
Mellie arrived at the base of the first, colossal eucalyptus tree. Without warning, one of the branches fell in front of her, then seemed to get up from the ground and pose its bottom stems in a military-like stance.
Mellie screamed and jumped back. "Branches don't stand."
"They do if they are walking sticks." The eucalyptus branch chuckled, stretching to its full height, considerably taller than Mellie's meager five feet.
She gasped, grabbed the branch, and threw it like a javelin, as hard as she could.
As she took off running, she heard a bark and halted. Turning, she saw a golden retriever bounding toward her with the stick in his mouth. The dog dropped it at her feet. She watched the dog run into the grove of trees and disappear before she fearfully turned back to the possessed stick.
It had already gained its footing again and stood over her. Mellie was too frightened to move this time.
A face emerged from the skinny twig and took on the characteristics of a male human, but none like Mellie had ever seen. He had hair made up in rolls as if it were a powdered, green-silver wig, the same color as the leaves that grew all around his skinny body. His face was long and his forehead high. The twiggy man smiled and said in a distinctly British, albeit breezy, accent, "Do not worry, you are safe."
Mellie couldn't answer.
"Ahh…I love new recruits. They are so easily addled."
Feeling more confused than threatened, Mellie found her voice. "What? What do you mean, new recruits?" She rubbed her eyes, shaking her head. "Okay, I'm talking to a stick now. Yes, I have lost it. I have gone totally mental."
"Oh, I say, am I to understand that I am the first to be revealed to you?" With round, leathery leaves, the branch resembled a toddler toy with rings stacked on one another.
She dropped open her mouth and nodded.
"Well, let me do this properly, then. Ahem. Mortal, made of clay, you have been Chosen to join the Fantastical, Aerial, International, Reasonably Inconspicuous, Emancipation Squads."
"What? What are you? You look like a stick…but you can talk."
"Yes, child," the stick replied with a sigh. "But, I think we are quite past that by now. Have you not heard me? You have been Chosen."
Mellie opened her mouth wider, closed it, frowned, and opened it once more. "Chosen? For what?"
"You did wish to be different? To change who you were? 'Twas an especially strong desire, yes?" The branch crossed its arms and tapped its twiggy foot.
"Umm…"
"Dear me, this is highly unusual. You made a choice to run away from a miserable life and asked to be set free? Correct?"
"Well, I, ah…yeah. I guess so. What did you say about recruit for some squad?"
"Humph. I see that I was not understood. Yes? Let me elucidate. The Fantastical, Aerial, International, Reasonably Inconspicuous, Emancipation Squads , or shall I say F.A.I.R.I.E.S.? have accepted you into their organization. You asked. You were answered." The branch attempted a smile, but looked impatient instead.
"Fairies? I don't believe in fairies." Mellie winced, half expecting him to fall down and writhe in pain until she clapped her hands.
"Quite right. You are not supposed to. If humans truly believed we existed, we would never get anything accomplished."
Mellie laughed and looked around for a hidden camera, thinking this must be a joke. "Right. Ah…heh…okay, bud, brilliant costume," she said, imitating the branch's accent. "Where's the zipper?" She reached toward him and touched a soft leaf.
The branch slapped her hand away and stamped its foot with a loud cracking noise. "I beg your pardon. I have not been a bud for over 800 springs!" He paced, his leaves crumpling, mumbling to himself about humans and why, in the One's name, did he listen to that confounded gnome who told him that he needed to stand gate duty. With his rank!
"I'm sorry I upset you. Please, I'm very confused. I'm lost, and I just want to go home." Mellie bit her lip.
The branch stopped mid-pace. "Home? Earlier, did you not wish for a new life? And riches? I know you wished for treasure, hmm?"
"How do you know that?" Mellie furrowed her brow. "Have you been reading my mind?"
The twig man didn't answer her questions, asking his own instead. "Ahh, so, you admit this, yes?"
She narrowed her eyes. "Yes, but…well, this really isn't what I had in mind."
The branch threw up its twiggy fingers. "Oh, well, of course you did not have this in mind. After all, we are reasonably inconspicuous, especially to humans. How could you have this in mind? However, is it not superior of the One to think that this is what you would have chosen had you known about us? Anyway, 'tis irrevocable now. So, if you would just follow me, we shall get you signed in and enrolled for training."
The branch marched off between the trunks of two large eucalyptus trees.
Mellie slid uncontrollably after the walking stick. She planted her feet firmly, refusing to budge, but she slid after him anyway. Grasping at branches of nearby trees, she panted heavily as she struggled to resist following the branch. Some kind of invisible tie connected her to him. He seemed to pull her along with his every step.
Mellie thought about her sisters and how mad they were at her. I'm dead meat if they find me. Mellie quickly gave up her battle and ran after the eucalyptus branch, barely keeping up with his stride.
†
The sand changed to coarse dirt, with pebbles and sticks. More and more trees filled Mellie's vision. Bushes scraped against her bare legs and slapped her face as she moved deeper inside a forest of eucalyptus and redwood trees. She winced in pain as a razor-sharp rock sliced her foot. Stopping to nurse it, she wished once again for her forgotten shoes.
"Excuse me, sir?" Mellie looked around. She could not see the branch anywhere.
"Do not call me 'sir', I work for a living." The branch peeked out from around one of the gigantic trees. "And please, try to keep up. We need to reach the gateway."
Mellie limped up to him. "Sorry, sir…I mean…umm, what should I call you then?"
"Oh, well, we did skip that. Did we not? Yes, all right, an introduction then." The branch man seemed to enjoy formal etiquette for he gave an elaborate wave and bowed. "My name is Regnans, family of Myrtaceae, born member of the F.A.I.R.I.E.S., Britannia Wing, rank of Master Nymph Dryad."
"Nice to meet you, Reg…Reg?" Mellie chewed on the inside of her mouth. Never good at remembering names, she knew she would offend him with her lack of manners.
Sure enough, the dryad raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips. "Regnans." He gave a hurt sniff, then drolly sneered. "If you find that a difficult name, you should meet the rest of my family, all seven-hundred thirty-four of them."
"Sorry, I just…well, it is a lot to remember. It's a nice name, though. My name is Maryellen Goodwin of Bret Harte Middle School, San Jose, California. But everyone calls me Mellie." She stuck out her hand, intending to shake. Regnans stared at her.
"That is a strange curtsy. However, I guess 'twill do. We must get moving now. The shadows abound, you know." Regnans made an about face and marched off faster than before.
Another hour passed, and still they strode along the forest floor. Mellie's feet were now cut, blistered, and bleeding. She kept up as best she could with Regnans's long stride. Whenever she tried to stop, he would pull her on with that invisible force of his.
Stupid, pompous, magical Star Wars freak.
She whimpered as she limped. Darkness and mist now covered the woods. As she was about to plead for a break, Regnans stopped. Except for her heavy gulps of air, all seemed quiet.
Regnans stiffened even more than usual. Nothing on him moved, apart from his eyes, which darted around quickly.
"All is safe, we may proceed." He held up a twiggy finger to his woody mouth. "Please do not speak, and try not to breathe so abominably loud."
Mellie nodded with a disgusted frown. Sweat dripped from her bangs. She tried to calm her breathing, even though her vision blurred, and her legs wobbled. Her blisters had popped by now and oozed wetness.
Regnans moved again, yet this time he took slow, deliberate steps, all the while scanning his surroundings. He walked up to a massive redwood tree and stroked its bark.
A breeze stirred up, rattling the leaves, sounding almost like spoken words. Mellie thought herself crazy again. However, the longer she stood there, the more she sensed that it really was the tree's language, as if she had never listened to trees properly before. It said, "If you love, you will say the one true love that leads the way."
Regnans whispered in a leaf rustling voice, "Ah-gaw-pay."
A loud grumbling sound, as if someone awakened after a long sleep, shook the grove. The redwood tree opened two eyes, each the size of Mellie's head, and blinked. A great fissure erupted below the eyes in the shape of a crescent, and redish-brown wooden teeth emerged. A long, knobby branch pushed its way out above the mouth and inhaled deeply.
The tree chuckled. Instead of the whispering leaves, a low, rumbling utterance of human speech came from the redwood tree. "Regnans? What brings you to my neck of the woods?" He blinked again. "And who is this? A new recruit? A human? A Chosen?"
Mellie knew she looked silly, standing there with her mouth in an 'O' shape, but she couldn't move. This was simply impossible. There is no such thing as fairies!
"Yes, yes. Please open the gate, we must not dawdle here…they may be watching." Regnans looked agitated.
A deep laugh resounded from the redwood. "Oh, Regnans. There are none who watch here."
Regnans mumbled something about hamadryads and their pride, then proclaimed in a slightly louder voice to the tree, "We must be sober, be vigilant, because the shadow walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom it may devour."
The hamadryad looked chagrined. "You speak true, dryad. Forgive me for acting like an arrogant seedling." He glanced at Mellie, and with a lowered voice asked, "And what is your name, little human?"
Mellie managed to squeak out, "Mellie Goodwin."
"Ah, 'tis always nice to have a Good Wind." The hamadryad laughed heartily.
"Sorry to interrupt this lovely tete-a-tete," Regnans said, "but would you please open the gate? I left Westside completely unguarded."
An annoyed creak came from the base of the redwood, followed by a sigh. "Yes, Regnans. Agape you said, and agape it is. Go with the light, my friends." The large, joyous eyes closed, and the hamadryad whispered in his leaf rustling voice, "Until we meet again, Good Wind." His face disappeared, and his roots lifted and pulled apart, exposing a tunnel within his trunk.
Regnans grabbed Mellie's hand with his rough, wooden one, and pulled her inside the opening. The tree closed itself abruptly and left them in total darkness.
Regnans cleared his throat and said, "Let there be light."
A burst of dazzling brightness sparkled from the tunnel's wall. Mellie glanced around and noticed a long, winding stairwell leading down into the ground.
"Shall we, then?" Not waiting for a reply, Regnans started down the steps.
Available at Amazon.com and Barnes & Noble.com.
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 & illustrator is:
M. C. Pearson
and the book:
F.A.I.R.I.E.S.: Baptism by Fire
FIRST Wild Card Press (December 5, 2011)
***Special thanks to M. C. Pearson of FIRST Wild Card Press for sending me a review copy.***
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
M. C. Pearson graduated from San Jose State University with a B. A. in art, served as a multi-media illustrator in the United States Army, earning the rank of sergeant, and spent four years as a house parent for at-risk youth. Now married over 20 years, she homeschools her two children, volunteers with her church youth group, and runs a book review blog alliance (FIRST Wild Card Tours) while writing and drawing. F.A.I.R.I.E.S.: Baptism by Fire is her first novel.
Visit the author's website.
SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:
Unwittingly chosen to join an army of fairies, who fight for the Light of the One, a teenaged girl learns about spiritual warfare as she attends a military academy with fantastical beings.
FROM THE BACK COVER:
Here lies a most precious treasure,
Awaiting one Chosen to deliver.
Seek out the red cousins in the East,
For on this your greed mustn't feast.
The wealth of a species now in your hands,
Do with it as the light demands.
Give them your gift to unite,
For it is the darkness we all must fight.
EDITORIAL REVIEWS:
"Imagination runs wild in F.A.I.R.I.E.S. Pearson brings young readers through a looking glass and into a world bursting with adventure, heroism, and fascinating creatures. Readers will be inspired to be true to the One and left with anticipation of more to come."
--Jill Williamson, award-winning author of
By Darkness Hid, and other books
"Sprinkled with delightful illustrations, and brimming with a full bestiary of magical creatures, F.A.I.R.I.E.S. is a fun, clever romp through the alternate landscape of the most magical world of all, our own. Read, and take up the call: 'Defend and Emancipate!'"
-- D. Barkley Briggs, author of
The Book of Names, and other books
"F.A.I.R.I.E.S. will appeal to readers who love the interplay of fantasy and reality. A rich cast of eccentric characters and exotic settings make this a fun addition to the folklore of the battle between good and evil."
--Mike Hamel, author of
YA fantasy series: MATTERHORN THE BRAVE
"F.A.I.R.I.E.S. is one of those rare gems I want to tell everyone about. It's highly imaginative, packed with adventure, and full of hope. A must read for kids and for kids at heart. Even better than Narnia! I was thinking about Pearson's wonderfully memorable characters for days."
--C.J. Darlington, author of
Thicker than Blood
"Ms. Pearson's extravagant and imaginative F.A.I.R.I.E. kingdom will surely delight the young and the young-at-heart in this tale of good and evil, light vs. darkness. The fantasy-loving reader will not be disappointed!"
--Linore Rose Burkard, award winning author of
Before the Season Ends, and other books
Product Details:
List Price: $17.99
Paperback: 482 pages
Publisher: FIRST Wild Card Press (December 5, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0615530222
ISBN-13: 978-0615530222
AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:
Four thousand seasons shall pass while our swords grow rusty.
Where once one chose to divide, another shall be chosen to unite.
One changed the past, the other shall change the future.
One must emancipate the other to allow the light its dominion.
The realm, now torn, allows the shadow to abide, as humanity lies blind to its peril.
The bond of friendship must endure, for the army of shadows awaits another tear.
Dust off your swords.
Unite the realm.
Destroy the strongholds.
Foretelling of Didasko Gnome Digdeep
†
PART ONE
MANY ARE CALLED
BUT
FEW ARE CHOSEN
†
CHAPTER ONE
Off and Running
t was an accident!" Mellie yelled, not caring who heard or stared. Tears streaked her face as she fled down the Santa Cruz coastline, away from her family.
You don't need them, a voice hissed in her ear, Escape. Run away.
Scorching sand burned at her feet and bitterness ate at her heart. Mellie pumped her legs as fast as they would go. Her feet pounded with the rhythm of her emotions, beating a tempo with the crashing waves. Run-a-way. Run-a-way. Run-a-way. Adrenaline pulsed through her veins, quickening her step.
Why did I have to be the youngest? Only 12 years old. Never smart enough. Never athletic enough. I just wish they loved me.
Once, just once, she wanted to do something that would make her sisters see that she wasn't the stupid, awkward, ugly, little baby sister.
As she ran, she wiped away some tears with the palm of her hand. Her fingers settled on her large nose, a gift from her dad's Hungarian ancestry.
Chelsea got the ski-slope shaped nose. I had to get Half-Dome. It just isn't fair.
Her hand dropped to her side and she pinched at her stomach. It still had some of its baby fat.
Ugh, why are my sisters so perfect? What happened to me?
Pushing her short bangs from her forehead in disgust, she mumbled, "Maybe I'll find treasure. I'll be the rich one, and then they'll have to accept me." But she knew better. California didn't hold any more undiscovered treasures.
The sand, hot and coarse, cut at her feet. I wish I had remembered my shoes. She wore only a black, one-piece swimsuit and a San Jose Sharks sweatshirt tied tightly around her waist.
Breathing rapidly, she began to tire. She slowed her pace to a walk and looked back across the beach. The sand was so hot that waves of heat rose from it and blurred her view. A lone seagull screeched overhead.
Her sisters were nowhere in sight.
Man, I thought for sure that Chelsea was going to chase me down and kill me.
She had to admit that it was a little gratifying to see the sand fly from her foot, covering Chelsea's sub-sandwich and freshly oiled stomach. Grinning slightly, the tears stopped flowing. She rubbed her eyes.
Mellie looked in the direction of her sisters. "You guys can never take a joke." Flipping her golden hair, she turned her head back toward her chosen path. She no longer smiled as she stomped her feet in the cold surf, remembering the hateful words that had been said.
"Oh, waa waa, you stupid cry baby! Go tell mommy! Maybe she'll feel sorry for her ugly, fat baby. Why don't you grow up? We don't want you near us. Can't you understand English? You are so dumb. Look at her mouth open. Oh wait, here she goes…come on, baby…cry!"
Mellie knew she couldn't go back. They would only ridicule and torment her further. Her mom would never believe it was Chelsea's fault. No, the evidence was on Chelsea's side. Who was the one with the sand all over her oily, coconut-smelling body? Who was the one who had a sandwich full of sand? Mellie walked on.
After her temper finally cooled, it occurred to her that she had never walked so far alone.
How far have I gone?
A shadow passed over her, and she looked up. Nothing was there. A cool breeze from the ocean created a stark contrast to the scalding sand. She shivered but kept walking, lost in her loneliness.
Not until she stubbed her toe on a large broken clamshell did she look at the beach. A chill snaked up her back. Nothing appeared familiar. The sounds of the surf were still there, yet something was decidedly different. She felt dizzy. Looking around, she could not quite pinpoint the change. Then it struck her.
No people.
Where did everybody go?
Even though she could see no one, Mellie could swear that she felt eyes staring at her.
She looked inland across the sand, saw movement near some eucalyptus trees, but decided that the wind must have caused it.
Trees? So close to the beach?
Something shook the trees again, causing goosebumps to stand out on Mellie's arms. Alarmed, she checked the skyline. The sun was close to setting. She hoped that the police weren't out looking for her.
Suddenly cold, she pulled at the arms of the sweatshirt still tied around her waist. It fell to the sand. Bending to pick it up, she once again saw a blur of movement, except this time it came from a rocky outcrop by the waves. She shook the sand out of the sweatshirt and hurriedly tugged it over her head.
"Okay, I'm seeing things." Mellie yanked at her hair, pulling it out of the sweatshirt. She stared at the sinister rocks. "Hel-lo?" Her voice cracked as she spoke louder. "Is someone the-ere? Hello?" No answer. The shadowy rocks seemed to quiver with excitement, beckoning her closer.
Hmm…probably just a seagull.
Even if it was a bird, she did not want to see it.
There's no way I'm going over there.
The wind picked up and blew her hair into her eyes. The sand spun with the wind.
Yes, definitely time to move. I need to find a road.
She turned back toward the sweet smelling, oddly placed trees.
Mellie arrived at the base of the first, colossal eucalyptus tree. Without warning, one of the branches fell in front of her, then seemed to get up from the ground and pose its bottom stems in a military-like stance.
Mellie screamed and jumped back. "Branches don't stand."
"They do if they are walking sticks." The eucalyptus branch chuckled, stretching to its full height, considerably taller than Mellie's meager five feet.
She gasped, grabbed the branch, and threw it like a javelin, as hard as she could.
As she took off running, she heard a bark and halted. Turning, she saw a golden retriever bounding toward her with the stick in his mouth. The dog dropped it at her feet. She watched the dog run into the grove of trees and disappear before she fearfully turned back to the possessed stick.
It had already gained its footing again and stood over her. Mellie was too frightened to move this time.A face emerged from the skinny twig and took on the characteristics of a male human, but none like Mellie had ever seen. He had hair made up in rolls as if it were a powdered, green-silver wig, the same color as the leaves that grew all around his skinny body. His face was long and his forehead high. The twiggy man smiled and said in a distinctly British, albeit breezy, accent, "Do not worry, you are safe."
Mellie couldn't answer.
"Ahh…I love new recruits. They are so easily addled."
Feeling more confused than threatened, Mellie found her voice. "What? What do you mean, new recruits?" She rubbed her eyes, shaking her head. "Okay, I'm talking to a stick now. Yes, I have lost it. I have gone totally mental."
"Oh, I say, am I to understand that I am the first to be revealed to you?" With round, leathery leaves, the branch resembled a toddler toy with rings stacked on one another.
She dropped open her mouth and nodded.
"Well, let me do this properly, then. Ahem. Mortal, made of clay, you have been Chosen to join the Fantastical, Aerial, International, Reasonably Inconspicuous, Emancipation Squads."
"What? What are you? You look like a stick…but you can talk."
"Yes, child," the stick replied with a sigh. "But, I think we are quite past that by now. Have you not heard me? You have been Chosen."
Mellie opened her mouth wider, closed it, frowned, and opened it once more. "Chosen? For what?"
"You did wish to be different? To change who you were? 'Twas an especially strong desire, yes?" The branch crossed its arms and tapped its twiggy foot.
"Umm…"
"Dear me, this is highly unusual. You made a choice to run away from a miserable life and asked to be set free? Correct?"
"Well, I, ah…yeah. I guess so. What did you say about recruit for some squad?"
"Humph. I see that I was not understood. Yes? Let me elucidate. The Fantastical, Aerial, International, Reasonably Inconspicuous, Emancipation Squads , or shall I say F.A.I.R.I.E.S.? have accepted you into their organization. You asked. You were answered." The branch attempted a smile, but looked impatient instead.
"Fairies? I don't believe in fairies." Mellie winced, half expecting him to fall down and writhe in pain until she clapped her hands.
"Quite right. You are not supposed to. If humans truly believed we existed, we would never get anything accomplished."
Mellie laughed and looked around for a hidden camera, thinking this must be a joke. "Right. Ah…heh…okay, bud, brilliant costume," she said, imitating the branch's accent. "Where's the zipper?" She reached toward him and touched a soft leaf.
The branch slapped her hand away and stamped its foot with a loud cracking noise. "I beg your pardon. I have not been a bud for over 800 springs!" He paced, his leaves crumpling, mumbling to himself about humans and why, in the One's name, did he listen to that confounded gnome who told him that he needed to stand gate duty. With his rank!
"I'm sorry I upset you. Please, I'm very confused. I'm lost, and I just want to go home." Mellie bit her lip.
The branch stopped mid-pace. "Home? Earlier, did you not wish for a new life? And riches? I know you wished for treasure, hmm?"
"How do you know that?" Mellie furrowed her brow. "Have you been reading my mind?"
The twig man didn't answer her questions, asking his own instead. "Ahh, so, you admit this, yes?"
She narrowed her eyes. "Yes, but…well, this really isn't what I had in mind."
The branch threw up its twiggy fingers. "Oh, well, of course you did not have this in mind. After all, we are reasonably inconspicuous, especially to humans. How could you have this in mind? However, is it not superior of the One to think that this is what you would have chosen had you known about us? Anyway, 'tis irrevocable now. So, if you would just follow me, we shall get you signed in and enrolled for training."
The branch marched off between the trunks of two large eucalyptus trees.
Mellie slid uncontrollably after the walking stick. She planted her feet firmly, refusing to budge, but she slid after him anyway. Grasping at branches of nearby trees, she panted heavily as she struggled to resist following the branch. Some kind of invisible tie connected her to him. He seemed to pull her along with his every step.
Mellie thought about her sisters and how mad they were at her. I'm dead meat if they find me. Mellie quickly gave up her battle and ran after the eucalyptus branch, barely keeping up with his stride.
†
The sand changed to coarse dirt, with pebbles and sticks. More and more trees filled Mellie's vision. Bushes scraped against her bare legs and slapped her face as she moved deeper inside a forest of eucalyptus and redwood trees. She winced in pain as a razor-sharp rock sliced her foot. Stopping to nurse it, she wished once again for her forgotten shoes.
"Excuse me, sir?" Mellie looked around. She could not see the branch anywhere.
"Do not call me 'sir', I work for a living." The branch peeked out from around one of the gigantic trees. "And please, try to keep up. We need to reach the gateway."
Mellie limped up to him. "Sorry, sir…I mean…umm, what should I call you then?"
"Oh, well, we did skip that. Did we not? Yes, all right, an introduction then." The branch man seemed to enjoy formal etiquette for he gave an elaborate wave and bowed. "My name is Regnans, family of Myrtaceae, born member of the F.A.I.R.I.E.S., Britannia Wing, rank of Master Nymph Dryad."
"Nice to meet you, Reg…Reg?" Mellie chewed on the inside of her mouth. Never good at remembering names, she knew she would offend him with her lack of manners.
Sure enough, the dryad raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips. "Regnans." He gave a hurt sniff, then drolly sneered. "If you find that a difficult name, you should meet the rest of my family, all seven-hundred thirty-four of them."
"Sorry, I just…well, it is a lot to remember. It's a nice name, though. My name is Maryellen Goodwin of Bret Harte Middle School, San Jose, California. But everyone calls me Mellie." She stuck out her hand, intending to shake. Regnans stared at her.
"That is a strange curtsy. However, I guess 'twill do. We must get moving now. The shadows abound, you know." Regnans made an about face and marched off faster than before.
Another hour passed, and still they strode along the forest floor. Mellie's feet were now cut, blistered, and bleeding. She kept up as best she could with Regnans's long stride. Whenever she tried to stop, he would pull her on with that invisible force of his.
Stupid, pompous, magical Star Wars freak.
She whimpered as she limped. Darkness and mist now covered the woods. As she was about to plead for a break, Regnans stopped. Except for her heavy gulps of air, all seemed quiet.
Regnans stiffened even more than usual. Nothing on him moved, apart from his eyes, which darted around quickly.
"All is safe, we may proceed." He held up a twiggy finger to his woody mouth. "Please do not speak, and try not to breathe so abominably loud."
Mellie nodded with a disgusted frown. Sweat dripped from her bangs. She tried to calm her breathing, even though her vision blurred, and her legs wobbled. Her blisters had popped by now and oozed wetness.
Regnans moved again, yet this time he took slow, deliberate steps, all the while scanning his surroundings. He walked up to a massive redwood tree and stroked its bark.
A breeze stirred up, rattling the leaves, sounding almost like spoken words. Mellie thought herself crazy again. However, the longer she stood there, the more she sensed that it really was the tree's language, as if she had never listened to trees properly before. It said, "If you love, you will say the one true love that leads the way."
Regnans whispered in a leaf rustling voice, "Ah-gaw-pay."
A loud grumbling sound, as if someone awakened after a long sleep, shook the grove. The redwood tree opened two eyes, each the size of Mellie's head, and blinked. A great fissure erupted below the eyes in the shape of a crescent, and redish-brown wooden teeth emerged. A long, knobby branch pushed its way out above the mouth and inhaled deeply.The tree chuckled. Instead of the whispering leaves, a low, rumbling utterance of human speech came from the redwood tree. "Regnans? What brings you to my neck of the woods?" He blinked again. "And who is this? A new recruit? A human? A Chosen?"
Mellie knew she looked silly, standing there with her mouth in an 'O' shape, but she couldn't move. This was simply impossible. There is no such thing as fairies!
"Yes, yes. Please open the gate, we must not dawdle here…they may be watching." Regnans looked agitated.
A deep laugh resounded from the redwood. "Oh, Regnans. There are none who watch here."
Regnans mumbled something about hamadryads and their pride, then proclaimed in a slightly louder voice to the tree, "We must be sober, be vigilant, because the shadow walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom it may devour."
The hamadryad looked chagrined. "You speak true, dryad. Forgive me for acting like an arrogant seedling." He glanced at Mellie, and with a lowered voice asked, "And what is your name, little human?"
Mellie managed to squeak out, "Mellie Goodwin."
"Ah, 'tis always nice to have a Good Wind." The hamadryad laughed heartily.
"Sorry to interrupt this lovely tete-a-tete," Regnans said, "but would you please open the gate? I left Westside completely unguarded."
An annoyed creak came from the base of the redwood, followed by a sigh. "Yes, Regnans. Agape you said, and agape it is. Go with the light, my friends." The large, joyous eyes closed, and the hamadryad whispered in his leaf rustling voice, "Until we meet again, Good Wind." His face disappeared, and his roots lifted and pulled apart, exposing a tunnel within his trunk.
Regnans grabbed Mellie's hand with his rough, wooden one, and pulled her inside the opening. The tree closed itself abruptly and left them in total darkness.
Regnans cleared his throat and said, "Let there be light."
A burst of dazzling brightness sparkled from the tunnel's wall. Mellie glanced around and noticed a long, winding stairwell leading down into the ground.
"Shall we, then?" Not waiting for a reply, Regnans started down the steps.
Available at Amazon.com and Barnes & Noble.com.
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!
December 2, 2011
BarnesandNoble.com coupons
For those of you shopping online for Xmas gifts, here are a few online coupons to share with you. There are two, one for if you are a member of Barnes and Noble and one if you are not:
Barnes&Noble Member Coupon! Save an Extra 25% Off - Use Coupon Code F7P4K8P at Checkout!
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November 27, 2011
November 21, 2011
Comfort reading food
(I also posted this over at Goodreads.com in case you wanted to join the discussion there.)
So here's a random question that occurred to me, so I thought I'd put it out there for you guys:
When you read, do you have "comfort food" you go for? Especially when you have a really good read?
I was thinking about this and realized that I have definite habits when it comes to my eating and reading.
I love enjoying tea with my reading, usually English style tea with milk and honey, but sometimes Japanese green tea (genmaicha, specifically).
I also love eating Sensible Portions Garden Veggie Straws while I read. In fact, I have a bag open right now! I get them from Costco and they're slightly lower in fat than potato chips, plus they're light and crispy. I used to like eating potato chips, but they tend to be too greasy after a while, whereas Veggie Straws are a bit lighter.
I also love reading while eating ramen or any type of soup, really. I set my book in front of my plate and read while eating. I know it's terrible to do that but when I have so many solitary meals, I've come to really look forward to my reading and eating ramen in the middle of the day. It used to be harder with paperback books, and I would use a book weight to keep the book open. But now I use my Nook and turning pages is just a touch to the screen.
I will especially turn to one of these three if the book I'm reading is REALLY REALLY GOOD! It's as if I want to milk maximum enjoyment from my time, so I combine a great story with food I love.
So do you indulge in comfort food while reading? What do you tend to do?
And for those of you already forming your Christmas wish lists:
So here's a random question that occurred to me, so I thought I'd put it out there for you guys:
When you read, do you have "comfort food" you go for? Especially when you have a really good read?
I was thinking about this and realized that I have definite habits when it comes to my eating and reading.
I love enjoying tea with my reading, usually English style tea with milk and honey, but sometimes Japanese green tea (genmaicha, specifically).
I also love eating Sensible Portions Garden Veggie Straws while I read. In fact, I have a bag open right now! I get them from Costco and they're slightly lower in fat than potato chips, plus they're light and crispy. I used to like eating potato chips, but they tend to be too greasy after a while, whereas Veggie Straws are a bit lighter.
I also love reading while eating ramen or any type of soup, really. I set my book in front of my plate and read while eating. I know it's terrible to do that but when I have so many solitary meals, I've come to really look forward to my reading and eating ramen in the middle of the day. It used to be harder with paperback books, and I would use a book weight to keep the book open. But now I use my Nook and turning pages is just a touch to the screen.
I will especially turn to one of these three if the book I'm reading is REALLY REALLY GOOD! It's as if I want to milk maximum enjoyment from my time, so I combine a great story with food I love.
So do you indulge in comfort food while reading? What do you tend to do?
And for those of you already forming your Christmas wish lists:
November 14, 2011
Deep Fried Collard chips
Captain's Log, Stardate 11.14.2011
I made collard chips yesterday, but it was because of the French fries.
I seriously love French fries. I go into withdrawal if I don't have them once every two to three weeks or so. Captain Caffeine will actually go out and buy them for me when I start climbing up the walls.
(Incidentally, our favorites are from Yiassoo's Greek restaurant, which for some reason has an awesome fryer and great fries, and also Kirk's Steakburgers because their steak fries ROCK!)
We've gotten a lot of potatoes lately in our organic co-op, so I decided to make French fries. I got out my Fry Daddy and whipped up several batches a few times this past week.
I got so fry happy that I decided to try deep fried kale chips, which turned out absolutely completely AWESOME!!! Unfortunately I didn't take pictures.
So then I thought I'd try collard greens and see how that tasted, and they turned out great too! They're a bit more "green" tasting than the kale--the kale chips actually tasted a little sweet, maybe from caramelization. But the collard chips were just as crispy and tasty as the kale chips. Plus I had two huge bunches of collards and was thrilled to find a new way of eating them.
Deep Fried Collard Chips
1 bunch collard greens (One bunch of chopped collards (maybe 4 or 5 packed cups) yielded a large colander full of chips.)
Fry Daddy
Canola oil
Salt
Metal splatter screen
Metal deep frying strainer
Pour oil into the Fry Daddy up to the fill line on the inside and plug it in. Wait 15 minutes for it to heat up.
Wash collards and remove ribs. Pat dry as well as you can. Cut into about 2-inch squares.
Once those collards hit the hot oil, the water is going to make the oil boil and make a lot of noise and mess, so I put a metal splatter screen over my Fry Daddy. I load a metal deep frying strainer with chopped collards, then quickly lift up the splatter screen, dump the collards in the Fry Daddy and replace the splatter screen as fast as possible. The first time it happens, the boiling oil sounds massively scary, but you're okay as long as you have the splatter screen on top.
Let it fry for about 1 minute.
Remove the collards into a metal colander set into a metal bowl to catch the dripping oil. Wait a little while for the chips to drip before sprinkling with salt, tossing with the metal strainer, and then moving the chips to a new bowl.
I wanted to know approximate nutritional value and guessed that kale/collard chips compare (oil-wise) to potato chips. One ounce of potato chips has 9.8 grams of fat, and since potatoes by themselves have no fat, I think it's safe to guess that the fat is all from the frying. 9.8 grams of fat equates to 0.7 tablespoon of oil per ounce of potato chips.
Going by the potassium and carb levels, one ounce of potato chips equates to approximately 0.6 cup of raw potatoes.
So when I was adding the collard chips into my SparkPeople nutrition diary, I added 0.6 cup collards plus 0.7 tablespoon oil for every ounce of collard chips I ate, and I think it's close enough.
Two ounces of collard chips ended up being approximately 190 calories, 3 grams of carbohydrates, 20 grams of fat, and 1 gram of protein.
Here is a collander of fried collard chips.
I removed the stems and ribs of the collard greens by folding them in half and then whacking the ribs off.
Here's my set up: Fry Daddy with the splatter screen over it, and next to it a metal colander seated in a metal bowl so the chips could drain. I also have a metal deep frying strainer in the colander for adding and removing the collards from the oil.
A close up of the draining collard chips.
A collard chip. It's very crispy.
And of course, Snickers was waiting with bated breath for droppage to occur.
I made collard chips yesterday, but it was because of the French fries.
I seriously love French fries. I go into withdrawal if I don't have them once every two to three weeks or so. Captain Caffeine will actually go out and buy them for me when I start climbing up the walls.
(Incidentally, our favorites are from Yiassoo's Greek restaurant, which for some reason has an awesome fryer and great fries, and also Kirk's Steakburgers because their steak fries ROCK!)
We've gotten a lot of potatoes lately in our organic co-op, so I decided to make French fries. I got out my Fry Daddy and whipped up several batches a few times this past week.
I got so fry happy that I decided to try deep fried kale chips, which turned out absolutely completely AWESOME!!! Unfortunately I didn't take pictures.
So then I thought I'd try collard greens and see how that tasted, and they turned out great too! They're a bit more "green" tasting than the kale--the kale chips actually tasted a little sweet, maybe from caramelization. But the collard chips were just as crispy and tasty as the kale chips. Plus I had two huge bunches of collards and was thrilled to find a new way of eating them.
Deep Fried Collard Chips
1 bunch collard greens (One bunch of chopped collards (maybe 4 or 5 packed cups) yielded a large colander full of chips.)
Fry Daddy
Canola oil
Salt
Metal splatter screen
Metal deep frying strainer
Pour oil into the Fry Daddy up to the fill line on the inside and plug it in. Wait 15 minutes for it to heat up.
Wash collards and remove ribs. Pat dry as well as you can. Cut into about 2-inch squares.
Once those collards hit the hot oil, the water is going to make the oil boil and make a lot of noise and mess, so I put a metal splatter screen over my Fry Daddy. I load a metal deep frying strainer with chopped collards, then quickly lift up the splatter screen, dump the collards in the Fry Daddy and replace the splatter screen as fast as possible. The first time it happens, the boiling oil sounds massively scary, but you're okay as long as you have the splatter screen on top.
Let it fry for about 1 minute.
Remove the collards into a metal colander set into a metal bowl to catch the dripping oil. Wait a little while for the chips to drip before sprinkling with salt, tossing with the metal strainer, and then moving the chips to a new bowl.
I wanted to know approximate nutritional value and guessed that kale/collard chips compare (oil-wise) to potato chips. One ounce of potato chips has 9.8 grams of fat, and since potatoes by themselves have no fat, I think it's safe to guess that the fat is all from the frying. 9.8 grams of fat equates to 0.7 tablespoon of oil per ounce of potato chips.
Going by the potassium and carb levels, one ounce of potato chips equates to approximately 0.6 cup of raw potatoes.
So when I was adding the collard chips into my SparkPeople nutrition diary, I added 0.6 cup collards plus 0.7 tablespoon oil for every ounce of collard chips I ate, and I think it's close enough.
Two ounces of collard chips ended up being approximately 190 calories, 3 grams of carbohydrates, 20 grams of fat, and 1 gram of protein.
Here is a collander of fried collard chips.
I removed the stems and ribs of the collard greens by folding them in half and then whacking the ribs off.
Here's my set up: Fry Daddy with the splatter screen over it, and next to it a metal colander seated in a metal bowl so the chips could drain. I also have a metal deep frying strainer in the colander for adding and removing the collards from the oil.
A close up of the draining collard chips.
A collard chip. It's very crispy.
And of course, Snickers was waiting with bated breath for droppage to occur.
November 10, 2011
What Kind of Reader Are You?
Captain's Log, Stardate 11.10.2011
This is a post by Maureen Lang and it's hilarious but also totally true!
http://christiansread.wordpress.com/2011/11/09/what-kind-of-reader-are-you-posted-by-maureen-lang/
Camy here: I think I'm several different types of readers, but I can relate to almost all of them. What type(s) are you?
This is a post by Maureen Lang and it's hilarious but also totally true!
http://christiansread.wordpress.com/2011/11/09/what-kind-of-reader-are-you-posted-by-maureen-lang/
Over the years I've belonged to or visited a number of book clubs, which taught me there are many different reader styles. After posing this topic to my voracious-reader daughter, I decided to define the ones we've either been or encountered and list them here in no particular order. See if you can identify with any . . . or some . . .
Camy here: I think I'm several different types of readers, but I can relate to almost all of them. What type(s) are you?
November 9, 2011
Giving Kindle Books
Captain's Log, Stardate 11.09.2011
I'm over at the ChristiansRead blog with a question about Kindle/ebooks and used books and lending books!
http://christiansread.wordpress.com/2011/11/08/giving-kindle-books/
Join in the discussion!
I'm over at the ChristiansRead blog with a question about Kindle/ebooks and used books and lending books!
http://christiansread.wordpress.com/2011/11/08/giving-kindle-books/
Join in the discussion!
November 8, 2011
Excerpt - Lakeside Reunion by Lisa Jordan
Lakeside Reunion by
Lisa Jordan
Bed-and-breakfast owner Lindsey Porter prays she won't run into Stephen Chase when she returns to Shelby Lake. Five years ago, the cop jilted her to marry another woman, and Lindsey fled town. But no sooner does she hit city limits than Stephen pulls her over for a broken taillight. Despite the past, he's still able to stir up Lindsey's old feelings for him. Now a widower and single dad, Stephen recognizes a second chance when he sees one. And he'll do anything to make Lindsey trust in God and take a risk for love—again.
Excerpt of chapter one:
Any moment now, Lindsey could put the car in Drive, touch the gas pedal, drive past the green-etched Welcome to Shelby Lake sign and return to her past. Another hundred feet and she would be back.
Visitors traveled to the northwestern Pennsylvania lake-front community to get away. She escaped to put her life back together.
Center Street unfurled like black satin ribbon under a canopy of evergreens and multicolored maples and oaks that would take her right down memory lane. Past the elementary school where Mom taught kindergarten. Past Aunt Claire's sewing shop. Past Mrs. Lawson's pink-sided house with the plastic yard goose she dressed each holiday. Past the church where Lindsey almost said "I do."
Mom, why did you have to fall down the stairs?
Lindsey gripped the steering wheel, pressing her forehead against the powder-blue fuzzy cover. Maybe banging her head against it would knock some sense into her brain. She'd made promises that never, ever, not in a thousand years would she return to Shelby Lake.
But promises didn't account for widowed mothers who might slip on a dirty sock on the stairs to the laundry room.
Next to her, on the seat of her friend's borrowed Taurus, her cell phone chimed. She read the display. Perfect—Granddad checking in. He probably expected her to hedge at the city limits, weighing the pros and cons.
Like for the past half hour.
She answered the call. "I'm on my way, really."
"No doubt in my mind, sweetness. Your mama's been taken to X-ray. She's asking for that quilt—you know, the one with all those circles—off the recliner near the davenport. Could you pick it up on your way?" Granddad's voice betrayed an edge of stress—playing family watchdog for the past five years whittled any visible panic from his voice. "Can you hurry?"
"Yes…sure. I'll be there in about twenty minutes or so." She ended the conversation and clenched the phone.
Quilt with circles, Granddad had said. The wedding ring quilt on the recliner near the couch. Dad's recliner. Closing her eyes, she could picture him sitting there—feet crossed at the ankles, hands tucked behind his head. An ache pinched her chest. But she would do it. For Mom.
She imagined her mother, fragile, her eyes wide with pain, maybe even fear as she lay puddled at the bottom of the stairs, or trying to drag her broken body toward a phone. If Lindsey hadn't swept the Shelby Lake dust off her feet, she might have been there. Might have heard her cry out. Or rather, might have been the one carrying the laundry downstairs.
She glanced at the sign again and released a loud sigh. Okay, so the town had fewer than five thousand people. Entering city limits didn't guarantee she'd see him. Or his son. Or run smack into the humiliation of being left at the altar.
It felt that way. Come on, who calls off a wedding a week before the big day?
Still. No one really lived down being jilted for another woman. Especially when they married within a month of her broken engagement. She couldn't stand the looks of pity that would follow her like a stray pup.
Can you hurry?
She'd grab the quilt, pop into the hospital to check on Mom, make sure someone from the church signed up to serve meals and then head back to her small country inn in Maple Valley.
Where she belonged.
In, out, fast, simple, and with any luck she wouldn't bump into the man who had left her heart in pieces, scattered across Shelby Lake.
Clouds resembling curdled milk smudged the morning horizon. Raindrops pinged her windshield in a lazy-Sunday-afternoon manner. A sliver of sunlight sliced through the tree limbs, over the rooftops of the houses lined up like first graders, beckoning her, calling her to come closer.
If she didn't do it now, she'd end up putting her car in Reverse and making the two-hour return trip to Maple Valley without looking back. But she couldn't disappoint Mom. Not this time.
She shifted into Drive and checked for traffic. None, of course. She had just coasted over the county line into Shelby Lake when she heard the blip of a siren.
What—?
A cruiser pulled up behind her.
Seriously? She was barely moving, let alone speeding.
Putting the car into Park, Lindsey dragged her fingers through her hair and rested her elbow against the door.
Maybe the officer would be one of the older guys. One of Dad's buddies.
Please, God.
She used to have the entire force on her Christmas card list, but, life had taken a detour the morning her father had been shot during a routine traffic stop and died a couple of hours later. And a girl had a right to close the door on a chapter of her life and start over, right?
The door to the cruiser opened. Lindsey squinted in the rearview mirror to see if she recognized the officer. With his head turned, she saw only dark hair cut above his collar. He paused to talk into his radio.
She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. "Come on. Come on."
He approached the car. She leaned over to scrounge through napkins and ketchup packets in the glove compartment for the vehicle registration and insurance card. Of course her car—a silver convertible that she would have preferred driving for this foray into her past—sat in the shop, getting the brakes replaced.
A girl should have at least a month's notice before she returned to her former life—lose those extra five pounds, get her hair cut, a decent manicure and definitely get her hard-earned sporty wheels detailed.
Still, Rita's ancient beater had saved her hide. And again, it wasn't as if she'd run into anyone she knew.
A rap on the driver's window sent her heart skidding. Lindsey cranked the window open with one hand while trying to free her driver's license out of its plastic holder with the other. A rain-scented breeze frisked her cheek.
"What's the matter, Officer?" Eyes glued on her wallet, she tried, oh, how she tried, to keep the annoyance from her voice. "I was barely moving."
"Ma'am, did you know your left taillight is out?"
Oh. She'd turned her lights on during the rainstorm. Busted. "The car's not mine. Belongs to a friend."
"I need to see your driver's license, vehicle registration and proof of insurance, please."
For the first time, she heard, really heard, the voice. Deep, with threads of humor around the edges, and the finest sense of control. A man of patience, of honor.
She closed her eyes. Really, God?
He was so not on her side.
"Ma'am?"
"Yes, just a minute." Stephen. Or maybe Officer Stephen Chase. She ground her teeth, focusing on the fake pine-tree air freshener dangling from the rearview mirror.
"Stephen." His name slid out as a strangled whisper. Then, because she had to, she hazarded a look. And yes, God certainly knew how to spear her in the heart, because if possible, Stephen had only become more handsome.
Apparently that's what marriage and fatherhood did to a man.
Clearly five years wasn't enough to get over those blueberry-colored eyes, that dark, wavy, run-her-hands-through-it hair, the devastating cleft in his chin. His smile belonged in an ad for men's cologne. And still managed to send her heart into a tailspin.
Now, he just roamed about in her dreams, in the hours between waking and sleeping when she had no defenses.
Lindsey squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them again. Just to make sure. Nope, he hadn't been a figment of her imagination.
Stephen's eyes had widened even as his mouth dropped open. Good. She shouldn't be the only one squirming here.
Unfortunately, he recovered more quickly. "Lindsey Porter. It's been what? At least five years?"
"Something like that." Five years, two months and three days, if someone bothered to count.
"This is not your vehicle." He stood with hands on his lean hips and feet shoulder-width apart.
"I believe I mentioned that." She refrained from adding
"Captain Obvious." No need for sarcasm. He was only doing his job.
Because, you know, apprehending hardened taillight-defying criminals would certainly solve the world's problems. Or find her father's killer.
"Mine's in the shop. Borrowed this from my assistant manager."
He nodded and then crossed his arms over his chest. The stretched navy fabric of his uniform emphasized the breadth of his shoulders. She averted her eyes.
ABBA came on the radio, belting out "Take a Chance on Me."
Lindsey flicked off the radio. So not going to happen.
"I should probably give your friend a ticket. It's dangerous to drive around without taillights—especially in weather like this. You just missed a downpour that came through here. What if the cars behind you couldn't see you slowing down or turning?"
"What cars? And no, I didn't miss it—drove through it, thank you. Without an accident, even. Imagine that."
He stared at her, and she seemed to see the words linger outside of her body, as if she wasn't sure where they came from. In the wake of her sarcasm she wanted to slink into her seat, maybe climb under it.
His cheery demeanor vanished. "I'm serious."
She blew out a breath, staring at her whitened knuckles clenching the steering wheel. Schooled her voice. "Sorry. Look, I know. I'll be sure to let Rita know, okay? Write me a ticket or whatever, but please hurry. I have to go. It's an emergency."
Suddenly she needed her mother.
"If you were in such a hurry, why did you idle near the sign for the last thirty minutes?"
"You were watching me?" She fought to keep the squeak out of her voice. She didn't expect any spectators while she psyched herself up to cross the county line. Should have known better.
"Someone called in suspicious activity. I had to check it out." He frowned, but the hard set of his jaw relaxed. "What kind of emergency?"
Blinking back sudden, crazy tears, Lindsey forced herself to hold Stephen's gaze. "Mom. She fell down the stairs and broke her leg."
Stephen relaxed his stance, rubbed a hand across the back of his neck and softened his tone. "Linds, I'm sorry. That's tough. How can I help?"
How could he help? How about making sure she didn't run into him the first twenty-four hours she was in town? How about picking up the pieces of her broken heart, pasting them back together? How about telling her that he'd been wrong for choosing Bethany over her?
No, she didn't want that. Not anymore, at least.
"Let me go so I can get to the hospital." And out of Shelby Lake as fast as possible.
He stepped back, nodding. She waited a moment for a "nice to see you" or even "want to get a cup of coffee?" But it didn't come.
It would never come.
Because some things simply couldn't be fixed.
Stephen jammed himself behind the wheel of the cruiser. Thunking his head against the headrest, he groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face.
The life he put back together piece by piece during the past five years scattered like Ty's bucket of Legos with a single glimpse of her.
Seeing Lindsey stole his breath. He expected a middleaged woman driving the late '80s blue Ford Taurus. Not his former fiancée.
Wow. She looked amazing. Time had only done her favors. Her hair still looked like the sunrise over the lake, and how he longed to touch it. Weave it through his fingers. It was shorter, although he liked it above her shoulders. Made her look less like a teenager, more like a woman. A woman who hated him. He needed to keep that fact in the center of his thoughts.
The police band chattered in the background, reminding him to radio dispatch and let them know he was back in service. But he tuned it out for a minute. He needed to regroup—force his hands to stop shaking and bring his thudding heart under control. A cold sweat slicked his face. He lowered the window. The crisp breeze fanned his clammy skin.
His cell phone vibrated against his hip. He released it from the belt holster and glanced at the display. His sister.
He flipped it open. "Hey, Mel. What's up?"
"Stephen, why are you answering your phone? You're on duty."
"Uh, you called me?"
"An eye for detail, as always."
"Mel…"
"Okay, okay. Listen, I didn't expect to talk to you. I mean, I called, but I figured I'd get your voice mail. Nate and I are grilling tonight. With friends. Why don't you and Ty join us?"
"Which friends? It's supposed to rain tonight."
"The patio is covered. Bring a sweatshirt. Oliver and Amy are coming. And, well, Ginger, a new girl in our morning Bible study who could use someone to show her around."
"Isn't there a church rule that says pastors' wives are forbidden to torture their brothers with their not-so-subtle matchmaking schemes?"
"Hey, I'm not doing anything of the sort."
"Leave the matchmaking to the Tea Grannies, Mel." He referred to the group of five ladies in his church who felt it was their God-gifted mission to make sure the singles in the church were paired up—whether they wanted to be or not.
"I just thought…well, it's been almost a year."
"Forget it. Not. Interested." Knowing she was only trying to help, he softened his tone so he didn't sound so much like a jerk. "Thanks, anyway. I need to get back to work."
"Well, stop by and grab something to eat."
"Maybe." He hesitated, not sure if he should say anything yet, but she'd find out soon enough. "Hey, Mel. Uh, Lindsey's back in town."
"What? When? How do you know?"
"Someone called in a lurker down by the welcome sign. Had to check it out. Turned out to be Lindsey. Apparently Grace Porter fell and broke her leg."
"You've seen her. Oh, Stephen…I'm so…How are you doing? I mean, seeing her must have been…wow, like a total shock or something."
"That would be the understatement of three lifetimes. Listen, I really have to go. Call Ma, will you? I'm sure she'll want to know about Grace."
"Yeah, sure. As soon as Nate's done with his sermon prep, we'll head to the hospital to check on Grace. Maybe I can catch Lindsey. Call me later if, you know, you want to talk or anything."
Stephen snapped the phone shut and dropped it on the seat beside him.
Life couldn't be easy, could it?
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Lisa is holding a scavenger hunt and lakeside photo contest to promote her Lakeside Reunion release. Plus, blog commenters on the blog hop will be put in a drawing for fun prizes—breakfast basket, Love Inspired Authors basket, autographed copies of Lakeside Reunion . Visit her Lakeside Reunion Contest page for more information.The token for this blog is a cup of tea.
November 2, 2011
Protection for Hire available as an ebook galley on NetGalley!
Captain's Log, Stardate 11.02.2011
For those of you who don't mind reading ebooks, an ebook galley copy of my December release, Protection for Hire, is up on NetGalley!
NetGalley is free to join, and once you do you can request to read Protection for Hire. You can read it on your computer, Nook, Kindle, and I think Kobo readers, too.
I hope you enjoy Protection for Hire! Please post a review on Amazon.com, BarnesandNoble.com, Christianbook.com, and Goodreads.com!
For those of you who don't mind reading ebooks, an ebook galley copy of my December release, Protection for Hire, is up on NetGalley!NetGalley is free to join, and once you do you can request to read Protection for Hire. You can read it on your computer, Nook, Kindle, and I think Kobo readers, too.
I hope you enjoy Protection for Hire! Please post a review on Amazon.com, BarnesandNoble.com, Christianbook.com, and Goodreads.com!
