Pirate Kid!

This one is for everyone with little boys in their lives!

Contentment Reading Challenge 2013 - April update

April, so that that you are just a memory. Life is moving way to fast.
However, I did manage to add 5 more books to my total!

• Bamboo and Lace by Lori Wick
• Sophie's Heart by Lori Wick
• Finders Keepers by Catherine Palmer
• Kiss the Bride by Kristy Dykes, Aisha Ford, Vickie McDonough, and Carrie Turansky
• Hide and Seek by Catherine Palmer

So I dived right past 20 and landed on 22 for the year!

First Wild Card Tours - Madeline's Protector by Vanessa Riley

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!

Today's Wild Card author is:

Vanessa Riley

and the book:

Madeline's Protector

White Rose Publishing (April 19, 2013)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

The Regency and Victorian eras have always been a magnetizing draw for Vanessa Riley. Even as she worked to complete her doctorate in Mechanical Engineering, she made time for renaissance fairs and any novel or cinematographic work depicting these genteel societies of old. Perhaps, the attraction arises from the kinship she feels with the period being brought up in the restrictive Southern Bible Belt with its stringent definitions of decent behavior and life expectations. Perhaps the common dominator to this appeal is her own thirty day Christian courtship or even the arranged marriages of her uncles; each is emblematic of the nuptials of those earlier times.

A technology muse like Dr. Vanessa Riley is probably not the immediate choice to write about haute ton English society set in the 1800′s. With her most recent published work being “Reducing Deformation by Phase Manipulation,” the common visceral reaction is that Providence has given another mule a voice to tell His story. Nevertheless, this mule uses her determined spirit and dogmatic tenacity to master the subject and to discover the hidden nuances of a character making him believable, her human and both ready to be used of God.

Vanessa holds a doctorate in mechanical engineering and a masters in industrial engineering and engineering management from Stanford University. She also earned BS and MS in mechanical engineering from Penn State University. She has been a radio anchorwoman and church announcer. She is a member of the American Christian Fiction Writers Association and Romance Writers of America.

Today, Vanessa juggles mothering a eight year old, her seventeenth wedding anniversary, engineering, writing and speaking at women’s events. She is known for her humorous delivery of poignant truths. Vanessa is currently, editor in chief of an online social network, www.busymama.net.

Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

If all the young men of England leapt off a cliff, Madeline St. James wouldn’t care. Then she’d have peace. Her nightmares of courtship would end, and she’d cozy up with a Psalm in her aunt’s quiet sculpture garden.

Yet, a chance meeting and a bullet wound change everything, and Madeline must trust the Good Shepherd has led her to the altar to marry a dashing stranger, Lord Devonshire.
Death and pain are no strangers to Justain Delveaux, Lord Devonshire, and he vows his dutiful bride will be kept safe and in her place. Though this compromised marriage is in-name-only, his wife and her unwavering faith both intrigue and allure him. Perchance when he thwarts his brother’s killer, Justain will tempt the unpredictable Madeline with the comfort of his arms.

But can Madeline and the stubborn earl forge a true bond before the next disaster strikes?

Product Details:
List Price: $16.99
Paperback: 354 pages
Publisher: White Rose Publishing (April 19, 2013)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1611162262
ISBN-13: 978-1611162264


AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Shropshire, England, Iron Country, August 5, 1821

"Stop, thief!" Madeline St. James grabbed the coarse sleeve of the man who stole her guineas, but he shook free and dashed away.

"Give those back, this instant." Mouth open, pulse racing, she stopped her pursuit. A scream bubbled in the pit of her stomach, but she pursed her lips. A St. James never made a public scene or conceded defeat.

The thief reached the other side of the vacant courtyard, well ahead of a wagon rumbling up the cobblestone lane. He shot her a toothless grin and traipsed to the main building of Tilford Coaching Inn.

The dray and its lumbering horse team swerved closer, but if she waited one more second, the thief would escape her view. Another man would've taken advantage of her. Not again.

Picking up her weighty skirts, she sprinted onto the slick rocks of the road. The silver hem of her long carriage dress slapped at the mud. Better to be dirty than a victim. Cupping her palm to her eyes, she scanned for the thief.

The man bounded up the stone entree. He'd vanish like her driver, amongst the sea of gaming travellers.

She lengthened her stride to intercept him.

One high step too many, her boot heel caught in the sagging silk, tripping her. The air pushed from her lungs as she fell flat. The soggy earth saturated her layers to the shift and petticoat. Her injured elbow stung anew.

Wheels squealed. Hooves clomped the cobbles. Soon the horses would be on top of her, stomping and kicking.

A couple of tugs and yanks couldn't fish her boot free. No escape this time. Abba Father, forgive. She turned her head and braced for the onslaught.

A band of iron gripped her stomach and hauled her from the muck. She went limp, sprawled against the hard chest of a rescuer. He pulled her off the lane and under one of the overhanging galleries of the inn.

Wind slapped her cheek as the horses swept past. No one held the reins. The wagon swung wide, crashed into the inn's main building, and flipped to the ground. Ejected barrels hit the whitewashed wall and sprayed foamy liquid.

Madeline's breath came in heaves, and she clutched the titan arm sheltering her. No fainting. No need to lose more dignity.

One of the draught horses loosed from its tether and galloped to the emerald pines scalloping the surrounding hills. The other roan remained with the wreck, lifting its crooked leg. Poor lame creature.

An old man rushed out of the inn and cut at the horse's strap. "Bring my gun. This one needs to be put down."

With an awkward hold on her middle, her rescuer spun her, perhaps to keep her from seeing the cruelty. He needn't be concerned.

The past two weeks had numbed her to violence. Yet, God kept her as He did again today. "Thank you,

Providence/ but please…spare the roan."

"You're welcome, but it's Devonshire, Lord Devonshire." The low voice kissed her ear, heated the pulsing vein along her throat.

How could this man sound calm? They both could've died.

He flung open the door to an onyx carriage and eased her onto the floorboards. "Are you injured, miss?"

"No." She rubbed her arms and gazed at her rescuer. He was very tall, enough to make her feel dainty even at her Amazon height. With broad shoulders and a solid chin, she couldn't have sculpted a more perfect hero. "The horse, sir? Can you help it?"

"Stay put. This mere mortal will see what can be done." He grabbed his top hat from the seat and marched away. His elegant form, straight posture, disappeared into the growing crowd.

It didn't matter she sat on the floor, chilled in her clothes, imposing demands of a stranger. Even against this errant horse, Death shouldn't win. She'd seen its victories too often, with Mama's passing seven years ago and Cousin Thomas dying this past spring.

She squeezed her throbbing elbow. Falling aggravated the sprain.

A quick shake of her foot didn't release her trapped kid boot but tore the lace trim on her gown, Mama's carriage dress. A lump formed in Madeline's throat. She missed Mama so much.

A few choice words shouted from the crowd and a round of loud snickers interrupted her woolgathering.

Lord Devonshire returned and rubbed the scruff of his neck. "It cost three guineas, but your nag will be kept by the innkeeper's daughter."

"I'll repay you, sir. My abigail has my reticule." She swallowed gall. The thief took most of her money, but surely three coins were left.

He waved his hand. "I'd rather not be a paid fool." Leaning along the door, he stared at her with irises bluer than a summer day.

What could Lord Devonshire learn from her disheveled appearance? She didn't mind his gaze. Since travelling to Shropshire, grey ash painted the clouds, no doubt from the ore foundries. No sunny skies like Hampshire.

"Now to be of true assistance." He reached under her hem, gripped above her ankle, and freed her boot from the tangle of silk. The warmth arising from his gloved hands seared her thin stockings. "Not broken." He released her foot to dangle through the entrance.

Shocking and bold. Though dressed as a gentleman in buff buckskins and an azure tailcoat, this definitely wasn't someone with whom to be alone.

Her wits returned, and she bounced out of the carriage. "I'll get your payment."

"Wait." Deep and commanding like Father's voice, his words stopped her. "I saw you trip trailing the miner."

She pivoted and clasped her hands across her ruined pelisse. Mud covered the delicate puce rosettes embroidered on the bodice.

"You were very brave to run after him."

"Bacon-brained would be a more apt description." A raindrop splashed her forehead. Her bonnet must have fallen in the commotion. She wiped her brow. The cold balm of mud smoothed against her skin. Her heart sunk, and she wrenched off her soiled gloves. If her cheeks weren't already scarlet, they should be.

He shortened the distance between them, a smile tugging at his full lips. "In mining country, the strikes have set everyone on edge. Some resort to crime. There's a would-be highwayman on every corner. You must take care around Tilford."

A fortnight ago, his concern might've warmed her, but not now.

"Father of Heav'n!" Mrs. Elsie Wilkins, Madeline's abigail, ran to her.

"Y' weren't to leave the livery." The good woman wrapped her stubby arms about Madeline's hips. "Too much for m' heart."

In vain, Madeline pushed at Mrs. Wilkins's indigo redingote to keep it from soiling, but no force could stop the woman's bear-like embrace.

Madeline's trampled bonnet peeked from the motherly woman's reticule. Dredged in dirt, the hat's ostrich plume lay crooked. Even in haste, her abigail took care of Madeline.

With another clench, Mrs. Wilkins finally let go. "Y' face?" She yanked from her pocket a crimson cloth and scrubbed Madeline's chin.

Madeline clasped her friend's wrist. "Dear, hand me my scarf. I'll do it."

Mrs. Wilkins shook her head and kept swatting the mud. She didn't want to come on this adventure, but how could Madeline be without her strongest ally? It must be the Irish blood bubbling in the abigail's veins, making her so loyal.

"First a broken wheel, now this." Mrs. Wilkins added a spit shine to Madeline's cheek then pivoted to Lord Devonshire. "The stable boys said ye saved her. Bless ye."

"I…I saw the lass fall in the path of the wagon. I

am the Earl of Devonshire. Very glad to be of assistance." An unreadable expression set on his countenance as he flicked a rain droplet from his sleeve. "Are there others in your party?"

"There's me--Mrs. Wilkins--and my lady, Miss Madeline St. James." She stretched on tiptoes and picked at Madeline's unraveling chignon, reseating pins and tucking tresses. "And m' lady's driver, but he disappeared, the no good lout."

Great. Mrs. Wilkins just confirmed they were alone. Now he'd be obliged to help. Indebted to a man. Could this day get any worse?

The earl rubbed his jaw. His gaze seemed locked on the colourful scarf.

Another drip from the overcast skies splattered and curled into the sable-brown hair peeking beneath Lord Devonshire's brim. He was too fine looking, too virile to be trusted. Step-mother's nephew, the handsome Mr. Kent, imparted that lesson before Madeline left home.

"Mrs. Wilkins, hand me my coins. I need to repay his lordship."

"No, miss. 'Tis my duty to escort you to your destination."

Madeline shook her head. "'Unnecessary."

"Cheshire. Please take us there." Mrs. Wilkins dabbed at her coat. "Like a divine appointm'nt, the earl being here."

"I can't speak for divinity, but you might say I've been waiting on a sign." He slipped the cloth from Mrs. Wilkins and waved it like a flag. "Someone brave to show me the way."

"I suppose we have no choice." Madeline snatched it from him with trembling fingers. She may be bacon

brained but not helpless or a plaything.

"There's always a choice. Like should I chase a scoundrel or let you freeze?"

She stilled her shaking palms.

He stepped near, removed his tailcoat, and draped it onto her shoulders. With his thick thumbs, he flipped the collar's revers to cradle her neck. His touch was gentle. "This should stop your shivers. I'll have my Mason get blankets."

Hugging herself beneath the weighty wool, Madeline gaped at Lord Devonshire. "Sir, we haven't agreed."

"The drizzle will get worse." He rotated to Mrs. Wilkins. "The young lady was just in my Berlin. Perhaps the visit was too short to attest to its comfort."

Trimmed in gold, the carriage could overshadow her father's. Either the earl possessed great wealth or liked the appearance of it. In her experience, both conditions made men pompous or cruel. She rubbed her elbow again.

Mrs. Wilkins curtsied. "My lord, we've two trunks in the stables with our brok'n carriage."

The earl nodded, opened the door to his Berlin, and then plodded the long lane toward the livery of the coaching inn. Was it confidence or arrogance squaring his shoulders?

He didn't pivot to check on them, not once. Arrogance.

"Come along, Lady Maddie. Don't get stubborn. Remember your plan."

Madeline raised her chin, grasped Mrs. Wilkins's forearm, and lumbered toward Lord Devonshire's carriage. "Another obstacle to peace."

Her friend's cheeks glowed. "The beginning of

peace, child. It's the beginning."

If only Mrs. Wilkins could be right. The unease in Madeline's spirit disagreed.

****

The temptation to look back almost overtook Justain Delveaux, the Earl of Devonshire. He strode faster to the livery. The girl had been spooked. If he seemed anxious, she'd run.

A fire of independence burned in her jade eyes. He'd have to placate Miss St. James and win her trust. Then she'd lead him to the killer.

At the entry of the hay-filled livery, his driver brushed Athena, Justain's filly. "Sir, are you ready to give up? The informant isn't going to show."

Justain stroked Athena's thick ebony coat, a shade lighter than Miss St. James's raven locks. "He didn't. She did. Look behind me. Are ladies entering my Berlin?"

Mason squinted. "Yes."

"The young one possesses the red cloth signal. She's the informant."

Furrowing his brows, Mason shrugged. "You and your jokes, sir."

"I'm serious. We're taking them to Cheshire, probably a clandestine meeting. Never thought to look for a woman. Well, not for an informant. The lass will lead me to lynch--"

"Must you wax poetic?" Mason chortled. "Genteel women shouldn't be left here/ but…"

"Just say it."

"We need to leave, sir. Something's afoot." Mason wiped water from the brim of his tricorn. "The miners

say a blood vengeance rides tonight."

"We'll leave soon, with my new acquaintances." Why was Mason hedging his words? Since Justain was knee-high, the man never held his tongue.

Rain fell in buckets. Justain moved under the stable's roof.

Mason and Athena followed. He searched his blue-black flap coat and retrieved his treasured silver flask and Justain's bottle of tincture. "The filly's cut is sealed."

"Superb, but no more of this." Justain pocketed the tincture. "Put away your spirits and say your peace."

"This chase won't bring Lord Richard back." His driver's voice grated like a rebuke from the old man, Justain's father. "You've other things to contend."

Justain concentrated on the steady rhythm of the shower. It blocked the memory of Richard's last breath and Justain's mounting guilt. He was to blame for Richard dying. Nothing took precedence over avenging his brother.

"Send blankets to my guests. Have the stable grooms load Miss St. James's trunks." He trudged toward the Berlin. This couldn't be a fool's errand. He hated being a fool.

****

Madeline forced a smile at Lord Devonshire as he leapt into the Berlin. He sat in the opposing seat, tossed his sodden top hat and gloves onto the floorboards, then pushed wet hair from his face. The rain poured hard minutes after she and Mrs. Wilkins entered his carriage, and it hadn't lessened.

Seeing him soaked eased her slight agitation at him.

"Thank ye, for savin' m' mistress." Mrs. Wilkins snuggled into the corner of his carriage, her greying red curls rested upon the creamy silk lining the walls. "Ye gen'rous to escort us to Cheshire." She yawned then winked at Madeline. "So noble and so handsome."

Heat crept up Madeline's neck. She didn't need to be reminded of his looks or his bravery. "We are grateful."

"Be at ease. It's not often I play the hero these days." His sable-brown mop shadowed a lean nose and tanned cheeks. "The escapade gave me needed exercise."

At least, he remained humoured. Gratitude should weigh on her spirit, but was his deed happenstance or had he followed her? Miles and miles from Hampshire, and the feeling of being chased refused to quit.

A servant stuck his head inside the carriage. Rain drizzled down his uniform causing the braiding on his mantle to droop. "To Cheshire, my lord?"

Twisting a signet ring, Lord Devonshire glanced toward Madeline and Mrs. Wilkins and then turned to the opening. "Yes, Mason, I haven't changed my mind. My guests have gone to great lengths to find me. I shan't forsake them."

What? Why did the earl think she sought him? What tales men must feed each other.

"Yes, my lord." The frowning servant nodded and shut the heavy door.

Madeline smoothed her bodice, trying to calm the tickle in her stomach. Father told her every kindness held a price. She'd paid enough for trusting Mr. Kent. The pain from his blows to her side persisted.

"Lord Devonshire, we haven't departed. Pray help us hire a post chaise to ferry my abigail and me to my aunt?"

"No. I will see this through." He cleared his throat. "I look forward to our conversation."

Though the earl's countenance appeared pleasant with his lips curling, he fidgeted his wilted cravat. Dried, the neckcloth might've held a little height in a fashionable sense. Was he one of those pompous dandies? Her scarlet handkerchief did hold his interest.

No. If he were, the earl would've let Madeline die than risk wrinkles to his clothes. The parade of fortune hunters Step-mother marched through Avington Manor surely would've made no effort. The shrewish woman probably hoped the flock of peacocks supping at their home could convince Madeline to accept her nephew for a mate, a lesser of evils.

The carriage lurched forward. Lord Devonshire reclined as if he posed for a portrait. His steady gaze set upon her.

Did he want his jacket returned? Did her slipping bonnet offend him? She righted it and smoothed its bent feather. "May I at least reimburse the livery expenses for my carriage?"

"Keep your precious gold coins. 'Tis my honour to serve you, Miss St. James." He grinned. Smooth white teeth peeked. "The opportunity to pull a headstrong beauty from harm's way is something I relish."

"Would you let a thief abscond with your coins?"

His smile dissolved. "No. I protect what is mine, and I'll avenge what is stolen."

Few had the patience for her opinions. She rolled one of the silver buttons of his jacket along her thumb.

"Praise be unto Prov…" Mrs. Wilkins snorted a harsh noise, her chin bobbling in the throes of sleep. With a fold and a tuck, Madeline secured the dear woman's blanket then tugged a book from the abigail's reticule.

"You two are my first guests in this new coach." The earl's tone was low.

He needn't be concerned about awakening Mrs. Wilkins. After this harrowing day, wild elephants couldn't rouse her.

Slumping near the window, Madeline glanced at the retreating landscape, the evergreens reflecting in the puddles. She'd enjoy nature now, before they crossed the Severn Gorge. Seeing the bottomless chasm would rattle her frayed nerves. The last time, ten years ago, she took this route with her parents and had curled next to Mama and hid within the folds of her shawl. Abba Father, please allow each of my steps to be surefooted. Tell Mama I miss her.

Lord Devonshire inched closer. Though the carriage rocked with each clip-clop of the horse team, he didn't sway. His tall frame sat erect like a sleek marble sculpture. "Is there anything I can do to make you comfortable?"

Mrs. Wilkins's bonnet fell onto her lap, her snores bleating to an embarrassing high pitch. The symphony of snoots quieted, but not before one protracted trumpet.

"No, sir." Madeline's cheeks warmed. Explaining her hasty exodus from Avington would lower his opinion of her, not that she needed his good opinion.

Egad. Step-mother was right. Madeline did over think things. She yanked her bookmark, flipped a few pages, and tried to lose herself in the passage.

He rapped the book and lowered it. "You'll ruin your sight, reading all the way to Cheshire. At our next stop, I'll have a lantern set down, unless I can capture your interest."

Another opportunist. Yes, he'd saved her from being trampled, but he was still a man. Did they do anything but seek their own pleasures? Like Mr. Kent.

Kent's sibilant whispers turned to yells ringing in her ear. He threatened to kill her for refusing his proposal. What type of life would she have if she'd eloped with a man of such vile temperament? She shuddered. Shoving her novel in Kent's eye darkened it and helped her escape.

"Miss St. James? Are you well?"

"Yes." She glanced at her wet hero. "You must be cold. I should return this." She lifted the tailcoat an inch and an ache rippled along her elbow. She clenched her teeth and let the jacket fall back to her shoulders.

"Just damp." He whipped his sleeves, rustling ivory buttons. "You seem to favour your right arm. Did I injure you in our last embrace?"

"No…no/ my lord." Her breath hitched, and she sniffed an odour similar to fresh dye. It reeked. She huddled deeper in the tailcoat and swathed her nostrils. The mild fragrance of sandalwood lingered in Lord Devonshire's jacket. Peace reined in every storm, and this one smelled of safety, like her father's robes.

The earl shifted his boots hard onto the floor. "Some say confession is good for the soul. Do tell. Why were you at Tilford--a gaming den, no less?"

Madeline wobbled on the tufted cushion. "My carriage broke down. One usually has no choice where this happens."

"And your driver's missing? Such a fanciful story.

I love a quality Banbury." He folded his arms like a solicitor in the midst of an inquiry. "Are you running from or to someone?"

"To my aunt in Cheshire, Lady Cecil Glaston. She's to tour Italy with me." Well, it would be the plan once Madeline convinced the art patroness. Madeline intended to sculpt such a stirring picture, Aunt would be anxious to see Michelangelo's David and abandon holding a matchmaking season. After Mr. Kent's betrayal, Madeline wasn't ready to belong to any man.

"I think you are running from someone whose wrath you fear. Don't lose courage. So much trouble is wrought from silence." For one second, the earl's sky-blue pools seemed to ripple with hurt before he blinked them clear. "We mustn't allow this."

She squinted at Lord Devonshire. Could he know she'd kept quiet about Mr. Kent?

"Help me, Miss St. James, my brave lass?"

Madeline's heart responded to the plea, thundering within her ribs, but could she be of aid without inviting Kent's revenge?

Lord Devonshire reached for her hand. "Tell me your secret. My dear, you can trust me."

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.


Madeline's Protector

COPYRIGHT 2012 by Vanessa Riley

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or Pelican Ventures, LLC except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

eBook editions are licensed for your personal enjoyment only. eBooks may not be re-sold, copied or given to other people. If you would like to share an eBook edition, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with.

Contact Information: titleadmin@pelicanbookgroup.com

Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated are taken from the King James translation, public domain.

Cover Art by Nicola Martinez

White Rose Publishing, a division of Pelican Ventures, LLC www.pelicanbookgroup.com PO Box 1738 *Aztec, NM * 87410

White Rose Publishing Circle and Rosebud logo is a trademark of Pelican Ventures, LLC

Publishing History First White Rose Edition, 2013 Print Edition ISBN 978-1-61116-226-4 Electronic Edition ISBN 978-1-61116-225-7
Published in the United States of America

My Thoughts:
I haven't read this book, but it sounds interesting.

S.A.D.

Today was a tough day. Worse than Valentines Day, but for the same reason.

Yet another engagement party of a friend to go to.

Don't get me wrong - I love it that these 2 have found each other and are committing to a life together. And I had fun trying some new things while making a card for them.

But I have to be honest, I really didn't feel like celebrating someone else's engagement, when I'm still obviously single. It doesn't help that this couple is really young (more than 10 years younger than me).

Thinking about it resulted in a totally BLUE day, and I nearly decided not to go.

I think it's also hitting me harder because I don't have my best friend around these days. She is off in Africa doing amazing things as she serves God. On one hand I wish she was back here with me, but I know that she is where she needs to be, serving God.

I did have some great conversations with people - catching up with them. One of them ended up being about how a friend has been trying to match me up (we've had this conversation a couple of times). Tonight she surprised me by suggesting looking into online dating.

Honestly, I don't think it's the right thing for me. So I'll keep waiting. There have been a few conversations with people about my singleness lately, so it's in my mind quite a bit.

Still nothing yet, but if you're a praying person, when you read this would you please pray for me. I can use all the prayer I can get right now.

A Beautiful Love Story!

A beautiful love story.
I wonder when mine will begin?

Contentment Reading Challenge 2013 - March Update

Here we are! April 1st and time for me to update you on my "Diving" progress!

I had some extra time to read during March, as I have finally finished the course I was studying (I will soon be starting another, but have to wait for some paperwork to arrive).

This month I read 10 books for the challenge!
So that takes me to 17 for the year so far (actually 18, because I have already finished one for April).

The books for March were:

• The Proposal by Lori Wick
• The Rescue by Lori Wick
• The Visitor by Lori Wick
• The Pursuit by Lori Wick
• Where Do I Go? by Neta Jackson
• Who Do I Talk To? by Neta Jackson
• Who Do I Lean On? by Neta Jackson
• Never the Bride by Cheryl McKay and Rene Gutteridge
• Crime Scene Jerusalem by Alton Gansky
• The Case of the Vanishing Corpse by Kel Richards

So, yes, by the end of 3 months I've almost reached the target of 20 books!

Happy Reading everyone! I hope this inspires you to look back through your shelves and find old treasures!

ACRBA Tour - Web of Lies by Laura O'Connell

1 - 5 April

Australian Christian Readers Blog Alliance

is introducing

Web of Lies

( Even Before Publishers 1 December 2012)

By

Laura O'Connell

(available at Light the Dark)

About the Author

Laura enjoys writing stories about second chances in love and life. She calls the Gold Coast home, however, her curious nature leads her on adventures to locations that surprise and delight her. Laura has a passion for telling a good story set in places where she has lived and travelled. Laura is the author of African Hearts and Web of Lies. Her debut novel, African Hearts, was shortlisted in the 2011 Caleb Prize. To find out more about Laura visit her website: http://laura-oconnell.com

About the Book:

High school sweethearts, Stephanie and Lachlan are torn apart by circumstance, bad decisions and a web of lies,leaving an unknown future for their son, Ryan.

Eight years later they reconnect,but the time apart has changed them. The family had made decisions based on lies and deceit and now must find a way to either reveal the truth or find another option. On the surface their arrangements seemed flawless, but dig deeper, and the people they thought they knew, aren't as they appear.

Lachlan and Stephanie are forced to confront the consequences of their actions and the entire family is compelled to reveal the truth, find forgiveness, and renew loving one another. But the hardest decision is still to come...where does Ryan live?

My Thoughts
There were a lot of family secrets in this book - so many, in fact, that it was hard to keep track of all the lies people had told to each other.
The writing was quite good, but you did have to keep thinking about who was focused on at the time to keep track of everyone's thoughts.
It's not one I plan to read again, but part of that is because there have been so many books coming out in recent times along a similar theme.

The Hope of Easter

Strangely Dim by Francesca Battistelli

ACRBA Tour - More Than a Mouse by Penny Reeve

18 - 22 March

Australian Christian Readers Blog Alliance

is introducing

More Than a Mouse

Hyaline House Publishing April 2013

By

Penny Reeve

If you click on the link you will be able to preorder the book from Penny's website.

About the Book
Tania Abbey is so excited. She’s waited and waited and it’s finally her turn to bring Pepperoni, the class mouse, home for a week. But her mum isn’t convinced – not with Gran coming to stay - and when Tania’s brother Daniel is involved in a serious accident, the little black and white mouse doesn’t seem quite so important after all. Unimportant, that is, until one night Pepperoni decides to escape...

About the Author
Penny Reeve grew up as the child of missionary parents in a variety of cross cultural settings. She then went to university, got married and served for several years herself in PNG and Nepal.
She now lives with her family in Western Sydney and is the author of 11 children’s books including the very popular Find the Animal series for young children and the social-justice themed Tania Abbey novels.
Website: http://www.pennyreeve.com/


My Thoughts
What a great story. I wish I had a copy (other than the PDF) so that I could lend it to some of the children I know. So many lessons packed in one small book.
I really want to read more of Penny's books. Hopefully one day I can share them with my children (when I finally get married and have them).