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October 31, 2007
Surrender Bay, by Denise Hunter
posted by David Meigs at 10/31/2007 12:01:00 AM




Coming November 6, to a bookstore near you, is the much awaited Surrender Bay (Thomas Nelson), by Denise Hunter. I have to admit that I was dubious about reading it, after all, it is a romance novel and I am such a manly man. Nevertheless, I was hooked on page one and couldn’t put it down.

It’s been a long time since a book has so captivated me. Surrender Bay is definitely one of the best books I’ve read all year.

Well done, Denise Hunter!


ABOUT THE BOOK

When Sam's estranged step-father dies, she inherits his ocean-front cottage in Nantucket--not because he kindly bequeathed it to her, but because he neglected to ever create a will. Sam returns to the island she left 11 years ago with her daughter Caden to fix up the house and sell it, but she isn't counting on is the fact that Landon Reed still lives two doors down from her childhood home. As their long-dormant romance begins to bud again, Sam must face the fact that Landon still doesn't know why she really left the island. Will the secrets she's hidden all these years tear them apart? Or is Landon's love really as unconditional as he claims?


Pick up a copy at Amazon ...... Visit Denise’s website ...... Read an excerpt

Denise lives in Indiana with her husband Kevin and their three sons. In 1996, Denise began her first book, a Christian romance novel, writing while her children napped.

Two years later it was published, and she's been writing ever since. Her books often contain a strong romantic element, and her husband Kevin says he provides all her romantic material, but Denise insists a good imagination helps too!

In addition to Surrender Bay, the second Nantucket book releases in April 2008. The title is The Convenient Groom and features Kate Lawrence, a relationship advice columnist, whose groom dumps her on her wedding day. Denise is currently at work on the third Nantucket book (Oct 2008) which is untitled so far.

 
1 Rants


October 30, 2007
BOO HUMBUG, by Rene Gutteridge
posted by David Meigs at 10/30/2007 12:01:00 AM

BOO HUMBUG (WaterBrook Press), by Rene Gutteridge is the perfect gift for every book lover on your Christmas list. This hot little page-turner is the 4th installment in the much loved BOO Series, behind BOO, BOO WHO & BOO HISS.

I fell in love with the full cast of delightful characters and especially the sleepwalking, obsessive-compulsive, Lois Stepaphanopolis. What a riot! I know you will love this book as much as I did. :)

ABOUT THE BOOK ....It’s Christmastime in Skary, Indiana, but the holiday season has been hijacked by maverick director Lois Stepaphanopolis as she attempts to bring her horror-ific vision of A Christmas Carol to life. But the holly-decked path from page to stage is a thorny one, as Lois attempts to rally her skeptical cast, including new father Wolfe Boone, and then she learns that her reluctant marketing director, Alfred Tennison, is truly a Christmas Scrooge.

Alfred’s grassroots marketing plan proves more than successful as the buzz builds that Skary should anticipate an overflowing audience for their opening night– but a crucial miscommunication leaves the visiting theatergoers expecting of a very different Christmas production. As chaos ensues, can the actors pull off an improv miracle — and can the Skary community convince their own Scrooge to embrace the true meaning of Christmas?

AUTHOR BIO... Rene Gutteridge is the author of several novels including Ghost Writer, the Boo series, and the Occupational Hazard novels. She is a published playwright with a degree in screenwriting and a decade of experience writing, directing, and publishing church comedy sketches. Rene is married to Sean, a musician, and is the mother of two. She is a fulltime novelist who lives and writes in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma.


WHAT OTHER'S ARE SAYING

“Move over Dickens, there’s a new Scrooge in town. Of course, this one may be heading for a straitjacket. With Boo Humbug, Rene Gutteridge serves up a romping good read that alternately had me scratching my head and chuckling. And just when I thought the tale had reached its peak--a surprise ending that delivers the Christmas message with feeling.”
–Tamara Leigh, author of Splitting Harriet


“A touch of eccentric, a measure of Dickens, and a generous dollop of love, and you have the perfect recipe for Christmas. Boo Humbug!”
–DiAnn Mills, When the Nile Runs Red


“What fun! I enjoyed Boo Humbug from the first page to the last. With characters that come alive and a storyline full of clever turns, it had me chuckling, cheering, and even reaching for a tissue at the end. I think I’ll have to start a new Christmas tradition — reading Rene Gutteridge’s Boo Humbug. I loved it!”
–Marlo Schalesky, author of 5 books, including Veil of Fire


“Only in Skary, Indiana, would a simple production of The Christmas Carol devolve into a hilarious disaster. With her trademark blend of insight and wit, Rene Gutteridge’s return to Skary is funny, heartwarming, and an absolute delight to read.”
–Melanie Dobson, author of Together for Good and Going for Broke


“In Boo Humbug, Rene Gutteridge and her loveable cast of characters present a story of Christmas unlike any other. Charming, witty, and fun, this tale promises to delight readers for years to come.”
–Diann Hunt, author of fourteen novels, including Be Sweet



Pick up a copy at Amazon ...... Visit Rene’s Website ..... Read an excerpt

 
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October 29, 2007
THE RETURN, by Austin Boyd
posted by David Meigs at 10/29/2007 12:01:00 AM


This week, the

Christian Fiction Blog Alliance

is introducing


THE RETURN

(Navpress Publishing Group July 13, 2007)

by

Austin Boyd

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Austin Boyd writes from his experience as a decorated Navy pilot, spacecraft engineer and an astronaut candidate finalist. Austin lives with his wife Cindy and four children in America’s “Rocket City”--Huntsville, Alabama, where he directs business development for a large NASA and defense contractor. His creative talents include inspirational fiction and poetry, finely crafted reproduction colonial furniture, archery and long distance cycling. He serves his community as an advocate for a crisis pregnancy center and as a motivational speaker in the area of lifestyle evangelism.

THE RETURN is part of the Mars Hill Classified Series with The Evidence and The Proof

.
ABOUT THE BOOK:

IS SEEING BELIEVING?

Six years after completing a manned mission to the Red Planet, Admiral John Wells is set to make another journey to Mars. But this time his crew is not alone, as John's team encounters a secret colony comprised of individuals pursuing John Raines' strange religion, the "Father Race."

While John begins to uncover a web of lies on Mars, his wife and daughter are struggling for survival on earth. Now John must survive his dangerous mission and find a way back home, even as a shocking plan begins to unfold millions of miles away on earth.

Austin Boyd is back with his third thrilling novel in the Mars Hill Classified series, full of high-tech intrigue, memorable characters, and adventure that transports readers to another world.

From the Back Cover:

With nothing left for him on Earth, Rear Admiral John Wells didn't hesitate to lead a third NASA team to Mars, but he never dreamed that one day they'd look out their laboratory module into the lights of a slow-moving vehicle not their own. In the third installment of the Mars Hill Classified series, life on Mars becomes increasingly more unpredictable as the past collides with the future and nothing, not even the dead, is as it seems.

Meanwhile, back on Earth, the fate of hundreds, including John Wells' family--presumed dead these last six years--rests precariously in the hands of Malcolm Raines, self-proclaimed Guardian of the Mother Seed and Principal Cleric of Saint Michael's Remnant, and his insidious plans for the Father Race.

Wells will find himself in a race against time and all odds to expose the truth: about Mars, about Malcolm Raines, and, if he's very brave, about himself.

"Austin Boyd is one of the brightest new voices in Christian fiction. His long association with the space program lends authenticity as he reveals the turmoil in the minds and hearts of those who are willing to risk everything by making that journey. In The Return, we learn that both human emotions and God's presence reach far beyond the pull of Earth's gravity."
--Richard L Mabry, author of The Tender Scar
 
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October 24, 2007
Illuminated, by Matt Bronleewe
posted by David Meigs at 10/24/2007 12:01:00 AM


This week, the

Christian Fiction Blog Alliance

is introducing


Illuminated

(Thomas Nelson August 7, 2007)

by



ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Matt Bronleewe is a recognized producer, songwriter and author. The former member of the band Jars of Clay, has earned numerous awards producing and co-writing albums that have sold a combined total of over 20 million copies. His songs have recently been recorded by Disney pop sensations Aly & AJ, American Idol finalist Kimberley Locke, and more. Bronleewe has worked with Grammy Award-winning artists such as Michael W. Smith, International pop singer Natalie Imbruglia and Heroes star Hayden Panettiere.

Born in Dallas, Texas, Bronleewe was raised on a farm in Kansas, where he lived until he left for college in 1992. At Greenville College in Illinois, Bronleewe formed the band Jars of Clay with his dorm roommate and two neighbors, and the group soon found success. Though Bronleewe opted to leave Jars of Clay early on to pursue an academic career, he soon found himself in Nashville, co-writing, producing, and playing music professionally.

To add to his list of accomplishments, Bronleewe has expanded his love of story telling beyond music into authorship. He is currently penning a 5 book series for Thomas Nelson Fiction. Illuminated, in stores now, begins the adventurous series about rare manuscripts and the mysteries within.

Bronleewe currently resides in Brentwood, Tenn., with his wife and three children. He continues to write and produce music, and he also volunteers through his church to help disadvantaged youth in the community. Bronleewe enjoys reading, taste-testing good food and watching sports, as well as indulging his interests in art, architecture, design and science.




ABOUT THE BOOK:

IT'S BEEN 500 YEARS IN THE MAKING...PREPARE TO BE ILLUMINATED...
August Adams has failed his family before. He's sacrificed relationships in pursuit of adventure, fame, and money. Now the very lives of those he loves depend on his ability to decipher a centuries-old puzzle encrypted in the colorful hand-painted illuminations that adorn three rare Gutenberg Bibles.

It's a secret that could yield unimaginable wealth, undermine two major religions, and change the course of Western civilization. Two ruthless, ancient organizations are willing to do anything to get their hands on it. And August has the span of one transatlantic flight to figure it out.

If he fails, those he holds most dear will die. If he succeeds, he'll destroy a national treasure.

The clock ticks, the suspense mounts, and the body count rises as August pits his knowledge and his love for his family against the clock, secret societies, and even Johannes Gutenberg himself.

"...this rare breed of suspense thriller combines mysterious hidden clues, secret societies, buried treasure, double agents, and the Knights Templar...if you turned National Treasure into international treasure, traded DaVinci codes for Gutenberg Bibles, married it to Indiana Jones, and added the pacing of 24 you'd be in the neighborhood of Illuminated...on a scale of one to 10, this one goes to 11."
-Aspiring Retail Magazine


250banner
 
1 Rants


October 17, 2007
CRIMSON EVE, by Brandilyn Collins
posted by David Meigs at 10/17/2007 12:01:00 AM



Today’s novel spotlight holds a special place in my heart. A year and a half ago, best selling author, Brandilyn Collins held auditions to write as one of several key characters in her upcoming Kanner Lake Series (Zondervan) in the new fan-fiction blog called Scenes and Beans.

I auditioned for the part of the curmudgeonly Wilbur Hucks and along with a couple other writers, won the part. My involvement began with the release of the first novel in the series, VIOLET DAWN (09/06) and lasted until the New Year. It was such an honor to be involved and I had a wonderful time.

CORAL MOON (04/07) was the second installment and now comes the much anticipated third novel, CRIMSON EVE. In my humble opinion, it’s the best one yet. Well done Brandilyn!




ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Brandilyn Collins is a best-selling novelist known for her trademark Seatbelt Suspense™. These harrowing crime thrillers have earned her the tagline “Don’t forget to b r e a t h e…® ” She’s so well known in the industry there’s actually a club for her non-readers. That’s right. The Big Honkin’ Chickens Club (BHCC) members are proud of the fact that they’re too wimpy to read Brandilyn’s intense fiction. Now and then one of them tries. Bribing works pretty well. (Just ask Deb Raney.) Somehow they live to tell the tale.

Brandilyn writes for Zondervan, the Christian division of HarperCollins Publishers, and is currently at work on her 17th book. Her first book, A Question of Innocence, was a true crime published by Avon in 1995. Its promotion landed her on local and national TV and radio, including the Phil Donahue and Leeza talk shows.

She’s also known for her distinctive book on fiction-writing techniques, Getting Into Character: Seven Secrets a Novelist Can Learn From Actors (John Wiley & Sons), and often teaches at writers conferences. Brandilyn blogs at Forensics and Faith.

Visit her website to read the first chapters of all her books.


ABOUT THE BOOK:

Carla stared at the gun and David Thornby—or whatever his name was. Her mind split in two, one side pleading this was some sick joke, the other screaming it was all too real.

“Please. You must have the wrong person. There’s no reason for someone to want me dead. I don’t have any enemies.”

“Then you’d best rethink your friends.”

Realtor Carla Radling shows an “English gentleman” a lakeside estate—and finds herself facing a gun. Who has hired this assassin to kill her, and why?

Forced on the run, Carla must uncover the scathing secrets of her past. Secrets that could destroy some very powerful people...

Brandilyn Collins fans and reviewers are saying Crimson Eve is her best book yet:

“Collins tops herself by creating a suspenseful nonstop thrill ride … Truly the best Christian Fiction suspense title so far this year.”
– Library Journal, starred review

“Crimson Eve is Collins at her very best. It left me feeling as if I’d climbed Mount Everest without oxygen … I didn’t think Brandilyn could outdo herself after reading Coral Moon. She did.”
–TitleTrakk.com

“I’ve never edited a more tightly crafted, deftly woven, compellingly written book.” –a Crimson Eve editor, with 20 years experience

“This is your best book! I could not stop reading!” – one of many readers with similar responses


Read about Violet Dawn and Coral Moon, books one and two in the Kanner Lake series.


Do you know someone who’s never read a Brandilyn Collins novel? Surely no such person exists. However, should you scrounge up such a friend—someone who enjoys suspense—here’s a special offer from Brandilyn. Be among the first 50 people between now and October 21, 2007 to e-mail her assistant at gayle.brandilyncollins@gmail.com with the person’s name, e-mail address and street address. (Due to exorbitant overseas mailing costs, United States residents only, please).

A signed copy of Crimson Eve will be sent to your friend—free—along with an e-mail from Brandilyn announcing the book is on its way, courtesy of you. (Don’t worry. Brandilyn won’t spam these email addresses. She just wants your friend to know who to thank.) No worries that this story is third in the Kanner Lake series. Each book stands alone. Brandilyn is convinced your friend will so love Crimson Eve, he/she will surely reciprocate with expensive chocolate.
 
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October 16, 2007
Mosaic: Pieces of My Life So Far, by Amy Grant
posted by David Meigs at 10/16/2007 12:01:00 AM


I have FREE copies of Mosaic for the first 3 people to email me (USA only).


Let’s begin today’s book spotlight by saying what this book is not. It is not another glamorized collection of fluff hyped by a publicist somewhere. It’s more—much, much more.

What this is, is a rare glimpse into the life of Amy Grant, the real person. Between the covers of Mosaic: Pieces of My Life So Far (WaterBrook), the author opens a window into her own soul. Amy Grant shares her memories, both happy and sad, and the lyrics to the songs they inspired.

By the time I finished reading the book, I felt like Amy was an old family friend. You will too.

.

Order from Amazon .......... Read an excerpt from the book



ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Amy Grant got her start in the music business with a part-time job sweeping up a Nashville music studio, which provided the perfect opportunity to duplicate a tape of her original songs as a gift for her family. A studio executive overheard her recordings–and the rest is music history.

Since the surprising success of her debut album thirty years ago, Amy has grown into a music legend, with six Grammy Awards, twenty-six Dove Awards, and six pop chart-topping hits to her credit. An inductee into the Gospel Music Association Hall of Fame, she also was honored in 2006 with a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

Amy lives in Nashville, Tennessee, with her husband, country music star Vince Gill. She has four children, Matt, Millie, Sarah, and Corrina, and one step-daughter, Jenny.



FROM THE BACK COVER



One of America’s most popular music artists shares beautiful pieces of an unforgettable human mosaic, revealing pieces of a life in progress.


With her unmistakable voice and honest lyrics, Amy Grant has captured a unique place in American music. As the bestselling Christian music artist of all time, a crossover pop sensation, and the wife of country music star Vince Gill, Amy has lived much of her life in the spotlight, subject to adulation, speculation, and scrutiny. Now for the first time she bares her heart and soul to reveal thoughts on everything from motherhood and marriage to fame and forgiveness. Whether describing personal moments alone on a moonlit hillside or very public ones performing with the likes of Tony Bennett and James Taylor, Amy presents a captivating collection of beautiful reflections on life, love, and faith.


Includes Never Before Published Lyrics to New Songs

Rendered with the lyrical insight we see in her music, Amy reflects on the pieces of her life through the years, forming a vivid mosaic of memories rich in color, varied in texture, and united in their heartfelt design.



A FEW WORTHY QUOTES

“Kids know who they are the minute they are born. As parents, we have the fascinating job of slowly discovering them.” p. 73


“Vince said with a smile, ‘Amy I don’t take credit where it isn’t due. I love you, but I can’t say I always understand you. What I can say is that I welcome you. I welcome you, and whatever you bring to the table.’” p. 105


“The beauty of being in the middle of life is the vantage point it provides…Even from here I can see that growing old is not for the cowardly.” p. 117


“This is trust: doing what you believe you are called to do and trusting that God will provide.” p. 120


“Like everybody else, I wish I were in better shape or had planned an upcoming event little more thoroughly. I wish I were neater. I wish I weighed what I weighed when I was in the thirties. But all those things are for another day. This day—at a hundred and forty-five pounds, at forty-six years old, with a few gray hairs and not quite enough sleep—this is the day the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it.” p. 144


“At one point when I was struggling with a particularly tall thistle with a stubborn root, Terry called out to me, ‘You know, Amy, sin is a lot like that thistle you are struggling with. It can look so beautiful to the eye, be so pleasant to the senses that you hardly notice the seeds are spreading until whole fields are taken over by them.” p. 64




THE BUZZ

“Amy Grant is a remarkable woman whose contributions to the worlds of faith, charity, and entertainment continue to put her in a class of her own. And in many ways, Amy’s wonderful new book, Mosaic, is a lot like Amy herself: it sparkles with energy, brims with love, and is blessed with the same deep and beautiful spirit that I’ve witnessed so many times when Amy has performed for the kids of St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital. How like her to have written a book that truly celebrates the magic and poetry of life.”
—MARLO THOMAS, actress and author

“Amy is one of our favorite friends. Her life is as inspiring as her music.”
—BARBARA AND GEORGE BUSH

“Amy Grant is a bouquet of Tennessee spring flowers. Not the floral-shop type with ribbons and a greeting card, but rather the just-picked ones. Fragrant. Radiant. You spotted them in a meadow and couldn’t resist. Now they sit on the table giving fragrance and color. Amy does that as she paints and perfumes our world with her faith, her music, and her words.”
—MAX LUCADO, minister and best-selling author

“Amy Grant is simply one of the most gifted communicators I have ever known. I’ve been on stage with her in front of thousands of people—and I’ve been with her in quiet private moments when she’s offered hope and healing to someone in need. In either situation, and in everything in between, I’ve been moved by her subtle strength and her ability to say the right thing at the right time. In the lyric of a song and now in this book, Amy can turn a phrase like no other. I’m so blessed to know her and so glad that she’s sharing part of her life in these pages.”
—MICHAEL W. SMITH, singer/songwriter

“I know of no one in our field more generous of her time, talent, or resources than Amy. In my experience, one of the major pieces in the mosaic of Amy’s life so far has to be caring about others.”
—BILL GAITHER, artist, writer, and producer

“Amy Grant draws from a well of experience as a daughter, wife, mother, writer, and entertainer. Like all of us, she has had her own personal storms in life; however, her faith has never wavered. Through it all, she has given of herself and her resources to help others, and remains an inspiration to millions.”
—FRANKLIN GRAHAM, president and CEO of the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association and Samaritan’s Purse

 
3 Rants


October 15, 2007
Never Look Back, by Kathy Herman
posted by David Meigs at 10/15/2007 12:01:00 AM

Today’s novel spotlight is Never Look Back (Multnomah), by best-selling author, Kathy Herman. Never Look Back is the second installment in the Phantom Hollow Series, followed by Ever Present Danger. The third and final book, The Grand Scheme, is scheduled for release in April 2008.

Never Look Back set the hook on page one and dragged me by the heartstrings through a delightful tale wrought with suspense, twists, turns, hope and redemption. It kept me up until two-thirty in the morning. I just couldn’t put it down!

Never Look Back has earned my highest recommendation. But be sure to pick up Ever Present Danger too, because you won’t want to miss a thing.




AUTHOR BIO


Kathy Herman is the bestselling author of twelve novels, including The Baxter series, Poor Mrs. Rigsby, and the Seaport Suspense novels. Her thought-provoking stories are ordinary enough to be believable, and extraordinary enough to stick with the reader long after the cover is closed. Kathy and her husband, Paul, live in Texas and have three grown children and five grandchildren. They enjoy world travel, deep sea fishing, and bird watching–sometimes incorporating all three into one big adventure!




BOOK SUMMARY
FORGIVENESS IS ONE THING,
BUT WHO REALLY FORGETS?


Ivy Griffith has been released from jail after serving time for covering up the strangulation death of a high school classmate ten years earlier. She’s paid her debt to society. Kicked her drug habit. She’s making a fresh start.

Problem is, everyone in her hometown of Jacob’s Ear, Colorado, knows what she did. And her seven-year-old son, Montana, won’t stop probing about the father he has never met–the man Ivy was too stoned to even remember.

Plagued by her own shame and her little boy’s cries for male affirmation, Ivy is thrilled when Rue Kessler takes an interest in Montana and her. Maybe, just maybe, he’s the answer to prayer she’s been waiting for.

But Rue has a shadow hanging over his past and is suspected in a rash of bizarre, brutal beatings. He denies any involvement, and Ivy believes him–until she discovers he and Montana have kept a secret from her.

At a loss for what to believe or where to turn, Ivy’s on the verge of despair and wonders if even God has given up on her. Or is something bigger at play here–something being orchestrated outside of her control that’s about to bring down the curtain on everything including her past?



THE BUZZ

“Never Look Back picks up speed, racing around twists and turns, so you have to hang on tight until the end. Now I need to read the next book in the series.”
-Lauraine Snelling, bestselling author of The Red River of the North and Dakota Treasures Series, as well as The Brushstroke Legacy.

“Once again, Kathy Herman creates a world full of intrigue and suspense, full of characters easy to love, with poignant emotional and spiritual threads that transcend story and touch hearts. I cheered for Ivy and Montana and their story of hope and second chances. Don’t miss Never Look Back!”
- Susan May Warren, award-winning author of In Sheep’s Clothing

“Two lives tangled in past mistakes. A relationship no one approves of. A vicious attacker with an escalating agenda. Never Look Back is a powerful story–and an exciting read!–of how God can work for good even in the midst of evil.”
- Lorena McCourtney, author of The Ivy Malone Mystery Series

“Kathy Herman creates real characters dealing with real problems. Her novels contain unexpected moments that leave the reader wanting more. Never Look Back is no exception.”
- Janet Benrey, co-author of Glory Be! and Gone to Glory

“In Never Look Back, Kathy Herman crafts an intriguing story about fresh starts and the depths of God’s forgiveness. With likeable characters and an unlikely villain, Never Look Back makes for a truly entertaining read.”
- Marlo Schalesky, author of Veil of Fire

“Grab hold for the twists and turns of Kathy Herman’s compelling suspense filled with complex characters, vivid setting, and a red-herring plot in Never Look Back.”
- Gail Gaymer Martin, author of Michigan and Finding Christmas, a Booksellers Best Award winner.

“Kathy Herman just keeps getting better. The deep characters, heartfelt storyline, and escalating drama in Never Look Back left me wanting more. Congratulations, Kathy!”
- Creston Mapes, author of Nobody

“Kathy Herman has created a vivid sense of place in Never Look Back, an absorbing tale of suspense and intrigue filled with characters to root for–and remember.”
- Mindy Starns Clark, author of the Smart Chick Mysteries and the Million Dollar Mysteries

“Never Look Back is another page-turning mystery that will make you wish you lived in Jacob’s Ear. These characters are sure to welcome you in, offer you a cup of coffee, and ask you who you think is the villain. And if you think you know, think again. This one can fool even the most brilliant amateur sleuths among us.”
- Wanda Dyson, author of The Shefford/Johnson Case Files Suspense Series
 
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October 12, 2007
My Life Unscripted, by Tricia Goyer
posted by David Meigs at 10/12/2007 12:01:00 AM


Anyone who works with youth as I do can testify that teenage girls are often ruled by their emotions. These kids ride a habitual rollercoaster of raging hormones and peer-pressure, where every little hiccup in a relationship explodes out of proportion. They seem to live and even thrive on drama. The term “teenage drama queen” aptly applies.

Today’s book spotlight tackles this tumultuous teen-hood dilemma by giving kids a way of using scriptwriting to objectively examine their choices before actually facing those difficult life-situations.

In MY LIFE UNSCRIPTED (Thomas Nelson), the author, Tricia Goyer, courageously wrote mini-scripts of some of her own most intimate struggles from her teenage years. Its powerful, life changing message touched my heart.

I decided to test the material on a real-live, teenage girl from my youth group. I asked Anjulie to read the book and then to write a short script of her own. She even agreed to a short interview! I’ve posted the results below.

I highly recommend MY LIFE UNSCRIPTED as a ministry tool for teenage girls, or for that special drama queen in your life. Well done, Tricia Goyer!









ABOUT TRICIA

Tricia Goyer was named Mount Hermon Christian Writers Conference "Writer of the Year" in 2003. Tricia was a finalist for the Gold Medallion Book Award and she also won ACFW's "Book of the Year" for Long Historial Romance in 2005 AND in 2006. She has written hundreds of articles, Bible Study notes, and both fiction and non-fiction books. She's married to John, and they have three great kids whom she homeschools: Cory (17), Leslie (14), and Nathan (12). They make their home in Northwest Montana with their dogs, Lilly and Jake.



.




MY INTERVIEW WITH ANJULIE




.

ANJULIE'S SCRIPT

Int.
Basement-afternoon-establishing
ANN (12), sits against the table. Across from her are WILLIAM (18), JASEY (15), and ADAM (10). In front of her there is a line of white powder half gone, next to the powder lies an empty pen shell.

ADAM: So…..what do you think? I told you it was great!!!!

ANN: My nose hurts, but that was awesome! (coughing)

William and Jasey laugh.

WILLIAM: And it only gets better from here (he pulls out a bottle of Vodka from under his coat) you ready to try this.

ANN: (laughing) You're hilarious! Do you really think this is the first time I have ever had cheap Vodka?

JASEY: Told you Will, she's not a goody-goody. Her parents keep her trapped up in her house most of the day. What the heck do you think she does to keep herself sane?

They all begin to laugh. William opens the bottle takes a swig and passes it around.

WILLIAM: (slurring his words) Sooo Ann do you want to buy some or not?

ANN: Duh…here take it before I change my mind (hands William $60) How long does this stuff last?

JASEY: Well you'll get off your HIGH horse (chuckling at his own joke) in about 3 hours. But trust me honey, you'll want more before then.

Jasey puts on some music and before long they are all high and drunk.

WILLIAM: Ann are you OK?

ANN: Actually, I am getting really tired... OH @#*^, I'm gonna barf.

ANN runs to the bathroom, and isn't seen again for about 10 minutes. ADAM walks in after her and finds her passed out on the floor of the bathroom

ADAM: I am sooo not carrying her home.

JASEY: I'll have my sister call her mom and ask if she can spend the night…..

WILLIAM: Let's have some fun first.

,
FADE OUT





 
4 Rants


October 10, 2007
Nobody, by Creston Mapes
posted by David Meigs at 10/10/2007 12:01:00 AM


If like me, you’re a big fan of gritty suspense novels, then today’s book spotlight is for you. NOBODY, by Creston Mapes exploded out the gate and wouldn’t let me go.

Wowzers, this boy can write!

Pick up a copy at Amazon
.

.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Creston Mapes is a talented storyteller whose first two novels, Dark Star and Full Tilt, made him a finalist in the American Christian Fiction Writers Book of the Year awards and the Inspirational Readers Choice awards. Creston has written for major corporations, colleges, and ministries, including Coca-Cola, TNT Sports, Oracle, Focus on the Family, and In Touch Ministries. Committed to his craft and his family, Creston makes his home in Georgia with his wife, Patty, and their four children.

Visit the author's Website


FROM THE BACK COVER

They said, “He’s a nobody.”
They were dead wrong.


When reporter Hudson Ambrose hears an early morning call on his police scanner about an injured person at a bus stop on Las Vegas Boulevard, he rushes to the scene to get the scoop.

His world is blown off its axis when he discovers a murdered homeless man with a bankbook in his pocket showing a balance of almost one million dollars. Should he wait for the police, knowing the case will get lost in reams of red tape, or swipe the bankbook and take the investigation–and perhaps a chunk of the money–into his own hands?

With sirens bearing down on the scene, Hudson makes an impulse decision that whisks him on a frantic search for answers, not only about the mysterious dead man, but about the lost soul lurking within himself.

Uncovering bizarre links between a plane crash, a Las Vegas pit boss, a dirty cop, and a widowed Atlanta business mogul, Hudson is forced to find out: who was Chester Holte, what was he doing on the streets, and why are his homeless friends convinced he was an angel in disguise?



WHAT EVERYONE’S SAYING

“Nobody was absolutely riveting from the opening scene to the final page. With compelling characters, a plot that surprised me at every turn, and a subtle, yet profound message that moved me to tears, this book goes straight to the top of my highly recommended list.”
- Deborah Raney, author of Remember to Forget and Within This Circle

“A taut, entertaining novel of mystery, intrigue, and spiritual truth. Creston Mapes delivers a winner in Nobody.”
- James Scott Bell, bestselling author of No Legal Grounds and Try Dying

“Creston Mapes has served up a savory tale sizzling with deceit, greed, and selfish ambition–and seasoned with just the right measure of grace. Nobody offers an inspiring reminder that it is only when we empty out our hearts for others that we can be truly filled. Highly recommended!”
- Kathy Herman, bestselling author of The Baxter, Seaport Suspense, and Phantom Hollow Series

“Nobody had me fascinated from the first paragraph and kept the surprises coming to the very end. Somehow, as the pages flew by, it also managed to convey a beautiful picture of faith the size of a mustard seed. From now on I’ll read anything by Creston Mapes the instant it hits the shelves.”
- Athol Dickson, Christy Award—winning author of River Rising and The Cure

“Creston Mapes sculpts a story of suspense and beauty while guiding the reader to the ultimate ending–redemption. The story is built layer upon layer until the full meaning of Chester Holte’s life is clear and the mystery is solved in a wild ride, combining deep emotion with a page-turning thriller .”
- Patti Callahan Henry, bestselling author of Between the Tides

“Creston Mapes has given us a wonderful gift with Nobody. The story compels, the pages fly, the city of Las Vegas pulsates with life, and the twists keep coming. We can all benefit from the message of this book, and once you start it, you wont be able to put it down. Nobody rocks!”
- Jud Wilhite, author of Stripped and pastor of Central Christian Church in Las Vegas.

“Nobody has a unique way of showing you the life of a homeless man and how he impacted so many lives with simple compassion. We should all strive to be more like that. Perfectly done, Creston!”
- Jesse Garcia, guitarist for Building 429

“Creston Mapes has delivered another remarkable story. Beat reporter Hudson Ambrose rises from the pages and comes to life in this fast-paced, gripping tale that pierces the heart. Nobody is a must-read!”
- Mark Mynheir, homicide detective and author of The Void

“In Nobody, Creston Mapes spins a tail about the kind of impulsive foolishness we’ve all considered at one time or another. The kind of foolishness that launches into deceit and shame and fear and that ultimately brings a thinking man to his knees. Creston Mapes has a way with words. And a way with characters. And a way with dialogue. And a way with story. Read this one. If you can stand the glimpse in the mirror.”
- Melanie Wells, author of When the Day of Evil Comes, The Soul Hunter, and My Soul to Keep

“Nobody is a touching and intriguing thriller. Creston Mapes tackles a subject that most of us would prefer to walk right by–and he does it with skill, suspense, and a lovely measure of grace. While entertaining us, Nobody reminds us of our own ‘homelessness’ and shines brightly on the blessed way home.”
- Kathryn Mackel, author of Vanished

“With Nobody, Creston Mapes once again demonstrates what happens when writing talent, an intriguing plot, and won’t-let-you-go characters converge: You get a thoroughly entertaining read that’s tough to set down. Nobody is for everybody who enjoys gritty noir with heart.”
- Robert Liparulo, author of Deadfall, Germ, and Comes a Horseman

“Nobody can give you intrigue, memorable characters, and an unpredictable plot with quite the same flair as Creston. And he delivers it with a one-two punch that will stay with you long after you close the book with a satisfied smile. Mapes holds a mirror in front of each of us–and then gives us Chester Holte to guide us to The Door. When it comes to thrilling, fast-paced, and provocative, I didn’t think Creston could ever top Dark Star, but he has! And it’s Nobody!”
- Wanda Dyson, author of Intimidation

“Once again, Mapes gives us a thought-provoking story, a challenge to every churchgoing reader. Told in the style of a mystery, Nobody is a modern parable full of life-affirming truth and eternal consequences.”
- Eric Wilson, author of A Shred of Truth

“Have you ever looked at a homeless man and wondered, “What’s his story?” In Nobody, Creston Mapes has crafted a thriller that will guarantee you’ll be asking that question with every street person you see–a brilliant way of ending the invisibility.”
- Tom Morrisey, author of In High Places

“A great thriller, with many twists and turns. Creston has the ability to take you right where the action is. Don’t miss this one.”
- Linda Hall, author of Dark Water and Black Ice

“Nobody by Creston Mapes was more than a terrific mystery novel–which it was. It also made me look at my own life and how I put my faith in action. This is a book that everybody should read.”
- Colleen Coble, author of Abomination

 
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October 03, 2007
The Trophy Wives Club, by Kristin Billerbeck
posted by David Meigs at 10/03/2007 12:01:00 AM


This week, the


Christian Fiction Blog Alliance

is introducing


THE TROPHY WIVES CLUB


Avon Inspire (September 4, 2007)

by


Kristin Billerbeck




ABOUT THE AUTHOR:


Kristin Billerbeck was born in Redwood City, California. She went to San Jose State University and majored in Advertising, then worked at the Fairmont Hotel in PR, a small ad agency as an account exec, and then,
she was thrust into the exciting world of shopping mall marketing. She got married, had four kids, and started writing romance novels until she found her passion: Chick Lit. She is a CBA bestselling author and two-time winner of the ACFW Book of the Year. Featured in the New York Times and USA Today, Kristin has appeared on the Today Show for her pioneering role in Christian chick lit.

Her last three books were:

Split Ends: Sometimes the End is Really the Beginning (April 17, 2007)

She's Out of Control (Ashley Stockingdale Series #1) (Nov 13, 2007)

Calm, Cool & Adjusted (Spa Girls Series #3) (Oct 1, 2006)



ABOUT THE BOOK:



Haley Cutler is the consummate trophy wife. Perhaps "was" is the more accurate term. Haley married Prince Charming when she was only twenty years old – back in the day when highlights came from an afternoon at the beach, not three hours in the salon.

When Jay first turned his eye to Haley, she was putty in his slender, graceful hands. No one ever treated her like she was important, and on the arm of Jay Cutler, she became someone people listened to and admired. Unfortunately, after seven years of marriage, her Prince Charming seems to belong to the Henry the XIII line of royalty. When Haley loses Jay, she not only loses her husband, she loses her identity.

With her first independent decision, Haley leaves LA and moves home to Northern California. Feeling freedom just within her grasp, Haley learns that her settlement payments must go through one of Jay's financial advisors, Hamilton Lowe. Haley believes he's nothing more than a spy. And the feelings of distrust are mutual. Yet somehow, Hamilton finds himself handing over the monthly checks in person, and Haley can't deny that there's a kind of tenderness and protectiveness in Hamilton that she's never experienced in a man before.

But before Haley can even consider another relationship, she must learn to accept her inherent worth, and what it is to be loved for who she is, not what's on the outside.
 
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October 01, 2007
1st chapter of DEMON: a Memoir, by Tosca Lee
posted by David Meigs at 10/01/2007 12:01:00 AM


It is October 1st, time for the FIRST Day Blog Tour! (Join our alliance! Click the button!) The FIRST day of every month we will feature an author and his/her latest book's FIRST chapter!




This month's feature author is:



and her book:

Demon: A Memoir

(NavPress, 2007)




ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Tosca Lee received her BA in English and International Relations from Smith College in Northampton, Massachusetts. She has also studied at Oxford University.

As a Leadership Consultant, Tosca works with managers and leaders of organizations throughout the Pan-Pacific region, Europe, and the U.S.

Tosca is a former Mrs. Nebraska-America 1996, Mrs. Nebraska-United States 1998 and first runner-up to Mrs. United States and has been lauded nationally for her efforts to fight breast cancer.

In her spare time, Tosca enjoys cooking, studying history and theology, and traveling. She currently resides in Nebraska with her Shar Pei, Attila.

Visit her at her website and her blog.

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Chapter One

It was raining the night he found me. Traffic had slowed on Massachusetts Avenue, and the wan light of streetlamps reflected off the pavement. I was hurrying on without an umbrella, distracted by the chirp of a text message on my phone, trying to shield its illuminated face from rain and the drizzle off storefront awnings. There had been a mistake in my schedule, an appointment that I didn’t recognize and that I had stayed late at the office for — until six forty-five — just in case. Our office manager was texting me from home now to say she had no idea who it was with, that the appointment must have belonged on Phil’s calendar, that she was sorry for the mistake and to have a good night.

I flipped the phone shut, shoved it in my bag. I was worn out by this week already, and it was only Tuesday. The days were getting shorter, the sun setting by six o’clock. It put me on edge, gnawed at me, as though I had better get somewhere warm and cheerful or, barring all else, home before it got any darker. But I was unwilling to face the empty apartment, the dirty dishes and unopened mail on the counter. So I lowered my head against the rain and walked another two blocks past my turnoff until I came to the Bosnian Café. A strap of bells on the door announced my entrance with a ringing slap.

I liked the worn appeal of the Bosnian Café with its olfactory embrace of grilled chicken and gyro meat that enveloped me upon every arrival and clung to me long after leaving. That night, in the premature darkness and rain, the café seemed especially homey with its yellowing countertops, chipped mirrors, and grimy ketchup bottles. Cardboard shamrocks, remnants of a forgotten Saint Patrick’s Day, draped the passthrough into the kitchen, faded around their die-cut edges. A string of Christmas lights lined the front window, every third bulb out. On the wall above the register, a framed photo of the café’s owner with a local pageant queen, and another with a retired Red Sox player, had never been dusted. But no one, including me, seemed to mind.

I stood in the entry waiting for Esad, the owner, to notice me. But it was not the bald man who welcomed me.

It was the dark-haired stranger.

I was surveying the other tables, looking for inspiration — chicken or steak, gyro or salad — when he beckoned. I hesitated, wondering if I should recognize him, this man sitting by himself — but no, I did not know him. He impatiently waved again, and I glanced over my shoulder, but there was no one standing in the entryway but me. And then the man at the table stood up and strode directly to me.

“You’re late,” he said, clasping my shoulder and smiling. He was tall, tanned, with curling hair and a slightly hooked nose that did nothing to detract from his enviable Mediterranean looks. His eyes glittered beneath well-formed brows. His teeth were very white.

“I’m sorry. I think you have the wrong person,” I said. He chuckled.

“Not at all! I’ve been waiting for you for quite some time. An eternity, you might say. Please, come sit down. I took the liberty of ordering for you.” His voice reminded me of fine cognac, the Hors d’Age men drink aboard their yachts as they cut their Cohíbas.

“You have the wrong person. I don’t know you,” I insisted, even as he steered me toward the table. I didn’t want to embarrass him; he already seemed elegantly out of place here in what, for all practical purposes, was a joint. But he would feel like an elegant fool in another minute, especially if his real appointment — interview, date, whatever — walked in and saw him sitting here with me.

“But I know you, Clay.”

I started at the sound of my name, spoken by him with a mixture of familiarity and strange interest, and then I studied him more closely — the squareness of his jaw, the smoothness of his cheek, his utter self-possession — wondering if I had indeed met him before. But I hadn’t, I was certain of it now.

One of Esad’s nephews arrived with a chicken sandwich and two cups of coffee. “Please,” the stranger said, motioning to a vinyl-covered chair. Numbly, stupidly, I sat.

“You work down the street at Brooks and Hanover,” he said when the younger man had gone. He seated himself adjacent to me, his chair angled toward mine. He crossed his legs, plucked invisible lint off the fine wool of his trousers. “You’re an editor.”

Several thoughts went through my head in that moment, none of them savory: first, that this was some finance or insurance rep who — just like the pile of loan offers on my counter at home — was trying to capitalize on my recent divorce. Or, that this was some aggressive literary agent trying to play suave.

Most likely, though, he was a writer.

Every editor has stories to tell: zealous writers pushing manuscripts on them during their kid’s softball game, passing sheaves of italicized print across pews at church, or trying to pick them up in bars, casually mentioning between lubricated flirtations that they write stories on the side and just happen to have a manuscript in the car. I had lost count of the dry cleaners, dental hygienists, and plumbers who, upon hearing what I did for a living, had felt compelled to gift me with their short stories and children’s books, their novels-in-progress and rhyming poetry.

“Look, whoever you are — ”

“Lucian.”

I meant to tell him that I was sure we didn’t publish whatever it was he wanted me to read, that there were industryaccepted ways to get his work to us if we did, that he could visit the website and check out the guidelines. I also meant to get up and walk away, to look for Esad or his nephew and put an order in — to go. But I didn’t say or do any of these things, because what he said next stopped me cold.

“I know you’re searching, Clay. I know you’re wondering what these late, dark nights are for. You have that seasonal disease, that modern ailment, don’t you? SAD, they call it. But it isn’t the disorder — you should know that. It isn’t even your divorce. That’s not what’s bothering you. Not really.”

I was no longer hungry. I pushed away the chicken sandwich
he had ordered and said with quiet warning, “I don’t know who you are, but this isn’t funny.”

He went on as though he hadn’t heard me, saying with what seemed great feeling, “It’s that you don’t know what it’s all for: the hours and days, working on the weekends, the belief that you’ll eventually get caught up and on that ultimate day something will happen. That everything will make sense or you’ll at least have time to figure it out. You’re a good man, Clay, but what has that won you? You’re alone, growing no younger, drifting toward some unknown but inevitable end in this life. And where is the meaning in that?”

I sat very still. I felt exposed, laid open, as though I had emptied my mind onto the table like the contents of a pocket. I could not meet his gaze. Nearby, a couple — both of their heads dripping dirty blond dreadlocks — mulled over menus as the woman dandled an infant on her lap. Beyond them, a thickset woman paged through People, and a young man in scrubs plodded in a sleep-deprived daze through an anemic salad. I wondered if any of them had noticed my uncanny situation, the strange hijacking taking place here. But they were mired in their menus, distractions, and stupor. At the back counter, a student tapped at the keypad of his phone, sending messages into the ether.

“I realize how this feels, and I apologize,” Lucian said, folding long fingers together on his knee. His nails were smooth and neatly manicured. He wore an expensivelooking watch, the second hand of which seemed to hesitate before hiccupping on, as though time had somehow slowed in the sallow light of the diner. “I could have done this differently, but I don’t think I would have had your attention.”

“What are you, some kind of Jehovah’s Witness?” I said. It was the only thing that made sense. His spiel could have hit close to anyone. I felt conned, angry, but most of all embarrassed by my emotional response.

His laughter was abrupt and, I thought, slightly manic. “Oh my,” he said, wiping the corners of his eyes. I pushed back my chair.

His merriment died so suddenly that were it not for the sound of it still echoing in my ears, I might have thought I had imagined it. “I’m going to tell you everything,” he said, leaning toward me so that I could see the tiny furrows around the corners of his mouth, the creases beneath his narrowed eyes. A strange glow emanated from the edge of his irises like the halo of a solar eclipse. “I’m going to tell you my story. I’ve great hope for you, in whom I will create the repository of my tale — my memoir, if you will. I believe it will be of great interest to you. And you’re going to write it down and publish it.”

Now I barked a stunted laugh. “No, I’m not. I don’t care if you’re J. D. Salinger.”

Again he went on as though I’d said nothing. “I understand they’re all the rage these days, memoirs. Publishing houses pay huge sums for the ghostwritten, self-revelatory accounts of celebrities all the time. But trust me; they’ve never acquired a story like mine.”

“Look,” I said, a new edge in my voice, “You’re no celebrity I recognize, and I’m no ghostwriter. So I’m going to get myself some dinner and be nice enough to forget this ever happened.” But as I started to rise, he grabbed me by the arm. His fingers, biting through the sleeve of my coat, were exceedingly strong, unnaturally warm, and far too intimate.

“But you won’t forget,” he said, the strange light of fanaticism in his eyes. His mouth seemed to work independently of their stare, as though it came from another face altogether. “You will recall everything — every word I say. Long after you have forgotten, in fact, the name of this café, the way I summoned you to this table, the first prick of your mortal curiosity about me. Long after you have forgotten, in fact, the most basic details of your life. You will remember, and you will curse or bless this day.”

I felt ill. Something about the way he said mortal . . . In that instant, reality, strung out like an elastic band, snapped. This was no writer.

“Yes. You see,” he said quietly. “You know. We can share now, between us, the secret of what I am.”

And the words came, unbidden, to my mind: Fallen. Dark Spirit.

Demon.

The trembling that began in my stomach threatened to seize up my diaphragm. But then he released me and sat back. “Now. Here is Mr. Esad, wondering why you haven’t touched your sandwich.” And indeed, here came the bald man, coffeepot in hand, smiling at the stranger as though he were more of a regular than I. I stared between them as they made their pleasantries, the sound of their banter at sick odds with what my visceral sense told me was true, what no one else seemed to notice: that I was sitting here with something incomprehensively evil.

When Esad left, Lucian took a thin napkin from the dispenser and set it beside my coffee cup. The gesture struck me as aberrantly mundane. He sighed.

“I feel your trepidation, that sense that you ought to get up and leave immediately. And under normal circumstances, I would say that you are right. But listen to me now when I tell you you’re safe. Be at ease. Here. I’ll lean forward like this, in your human way. When that couple over there sees my little smile, this conspiratorial look, they’ll think we’re sharing a succulent bit of gossip.”

I wasn’t at ease. Not at all. My heart had become a pounding liability in my chest.

“Why?” I managed, wishing I were even now in the emptiness of my apartment, staring at the world through the bleak window of my TV.

Lucian leaned even closer, his hand splayed across the top of the table so that I could see the blue veins along the back of it. His voice dropped below a whisper, but I had no difficulty hearing him. “Because my story is very closely connected to yours. We’re not so different after all, you and I. We both want purpose, meaning, to see the bigger picture. I can give you that.”

“You don’t even know me!”

“On the contrary,” he said, sliding the napkin dispenser away, as though it were a barrier between us. “I know everything about you. Your childhood house on Ridgeview Drive. The tackle box you kept your football cards in. The night you tried to sneak out after homecoming to meet Lindsey Bennett. You broke your wrist climbing out of the window.”

I stared.

“I know of your father’s passing — you were fifteen. About the merlot you miss since giving up drinking, the way you dip your hamburgers in blue cheese dressing — your friend Piotr taught you that in college. That you’ve been telling yourself you ought to get away somewhere — Mexico, perhaps. That you think it’s the seasonal disorder bothering you, though it’s not — ”

“Stop!” I threw up my hands, wanting him to leave at once, equally afraid that he might and that I would be stuck knowing that there was this person — this thing — watching me. Knowing everything.

His voice gentled. “Let me assure you you’re not the only one; I could list myriad facts about anyone. Name someone. How about Sheila?” He smirked. “Let’s just say she didn’t return your essage from home, and her husband thinks she’s working late. Esad? Living in war-torn Bosnia was no small feat. He — ” He cocked his head, and there came now a faint buzzing like an invisible swarm of mosquitoes. I instinctively jerked away.

“What was that?” I demanded, unable to pinpoint where the sound had come from.

“Ah. A concentration camp!” He looked surprised. “I didn’t know that. Did you know that? And as for your ex — ” He tilted his head again.

“No! Please, don’t.” I lowered my head into my hand, dug my fingers into my scalp. Five months after the divorce, the wound still split open at the mere mention of her.

“You see?” he whispered, his head ducked down so that he stared intently up into my face. “I can tell you everything.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’ve made a pastime of studying case histories, of following them through from beginning to end. You fascinate me in the same way that beetles with their uncanny instinct for dung rolling used to fascinate you. I know more about you than your family. Than your ex. Than you know about yourself, I daresay.”

Something — some by-product of fear — rose up within me as anger at last. “If you are what you say, aren’t you here to make some kind of deal for my soul? To tempt me? Why did you order me coffee, then? Why not a glass of merlot or a Crown and Coke?” My voice had risen, but I didn’t care; I felt my anger with relief.

Lucian regarded me calmly. “Please. How trite. Besides, they don’t serve liquor here.” But then his calm fell away, and he was staring — not at me but past me, toward the clock on the wall. “But there,” he pointed. His finger seemed exceedingly long. “See how the hour advances without us!” He leapt to his feet, and I realized with alarm that he meant to leave.

“What — you can’t just go now that you’ve — ”

“I’ve come to you at great risk,” he hissed, the sound sibilant, as though he had whispered in my ear though he stood three feet away. And then he strode to the glass door and pushed out into the darkness, disappearing beyond the reflected interior of the café like a shadow into a mirror. The strap of bells fell against the door with a flat metal clink, and my own stunned reflection stared back.

Rain pelted my eyes, slipped in wet tracks through my hair against my scalp, ran in rivulets down my nape to mingle with the sweat against my back. It had gotten colder, almost freezing, but I was sweating inside the sodden collar of my shirt as I hurried down Norfolk, my bag slapping against my hip, my legs cramped and wooden, nightmare slow.

The abrupt warmth inside my apartment building threatened to suffocate me as I stumbled up the stairs. My ears pintingled to painful life as I fumbled with my keys. Inside my apartment at last, I fell back against the door, head throbbing and lungs heaving in the still air. I stayed like that, my coat dripping onto the carpet, for several long moments. Then a mad whim struck me.

With numb fingers, I retrieved the laptop from my bag and set it up on the kitchen table. With my coat still on, I dropped down onto a wooden chair, staring at the screen as it yawned to life. I logged into the company server, opened my calendar.

There — my six-thirty appointment. It was simply noted: L.


Sample from Demon / ISBN 1-60006-123-0
Copyright © 2006 NavPress Publishing.
All rights reserved.
To order copies of this resource, come back to www.navpress.com.
 
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