When I decided I wanted to write, they didn’t have books that featured African-American people, but that didn’t stop me from writing my first book. My first book the girl was black and the hero was white. Back then at sixteen I was in love with Bo Brady from Days Of Our Lives, so since I couldn’t have him in real life, I made my heroine fall in love with him.
Writing my story, I didn’t consider that there weren’t any African-American romances in the market, I just dared to dream that one day my book could be the break through book to start it off. Of course that didn’t happen, but other books did break down the door and we began to see more books that featured characters that looked like me.
Fast forward to a few years and I’m proud to say we’ve come a long way. We have books in all genres that feature AA characters.
As a writer it has always been hard to break into the business, however with a lot of courage and determination, many have. Now we’re hearing the market is changing, the publishers are doing major layoffs and it will be even harder to get published.
What are our options now? Basically the same as when there weren’t any AA books. We write, we hope and we dare to dream. We honestly don’t have any say over on what happens with the market. All we have power over is our story. Continue to write and continue to dream because once you stop doing both, you fall into the trap that the publishing business is dying. If they don’t have writers it will die.
Get out those notepads, open up that laptop and write.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
New Start
I'm over at readersroom.com for my monthly column.
Stop by and tell me:
How do you focus on completing your writing goals?
Stop by and tell me:
How do you focus on completing your writing goals?
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
In Memory of - Andria Hall
Andria Hall author of The Walk At Work, died Monday. I was really sadden to hear this news. Her friend Pam Perry wrote a nice tribute to her. Please take a moment to read it an offer a prayer for her family.
ANDRIA HALL
Thursday, January 08, 2009
Going Natural
I’ve never been a hair person. You know the type who spend hours in the salon every week to get their hair did. I went from press and curl to the the jeri curl. I loved the jeri curl. It was easy to maintain and I could wear different styles.
When I got out of the navy I decided to go wild and get a perm, which meant many hours at the salon, trying to keep a good looking hairstyle. Once I had kids my hair changed on me. After my second child the hair refused to hold a perm, and I decided to go natural and try out the twists. I wore this for about two years. It was hard to get use to because with twists you just go with the flow. Some days my hair would be sticking up in the air some days it would look OK. I felt like a mop and I didn’t feel cute. You know we women like to feel cute. I gave in and put another perm in my head. For the next few years I was enjoying my hair but my hair wasn’t enjoying the perm.
After the last baby, my head finally said enough is enough and I decide to not put another perm in it. It was hard looking raggedy by the head. I was on the fence about going natural but I knew I couldn’t go back to the perm. The turning point for me was at my sisters wedding. I had to buy a wig because the hair refused to look good. I loved the wig, but it was so hot I knew I wouldn’t be able to do that forever.
One Sunday over my sister’s, I told her, cut it off. She’s like are you sure? I’m like go for it. She cut all the perm off and shaped it into a short afro.
I talked about going gray, well the gray has seriously taking over and it’s been a wild ride. Some days I like it, some days I want to cry. Who is that woman in the mirror? When did she get so old?
A woman told me I looked regal and that I shouldn’t dye my hair. It made me feel good, but it’s still hard to accept the gray. I can’t even post a picture because I’m not ready.
I’ll be 42 in two months and I’ve accepted that I’m getting older. I like it, I just haven’t accepted the gray.
Will I ever accept it?
Stay tune for more on my journey to naturalhood.
What about you, what do you have a hard time accepting as you get older?
P.S. For those on this natural journey, share your experiences with me.
When I got out of the navy I decided to go wild and get a perm, which meant many hours at the salon, trying to keep a good looking hairstyle. Once I had kids my hair changed on me. After my second child the hair refused to hold a perm, and I decided to go natural and try out the twists. I wore this for about two years. It was hard to get use to because with twists you just go with the flow. Some days my hair would be sticking up in the air some days it would look OK. I felt like a mop and I didn’t feel cute. You know we women like to feel cute. I gave in and put another perm in my head. For the next few years I was enjoying my hair but my hair wasn’t enjoying the perm.
After the last baby, my head finally said enough is enough and I decide to not put another perm in it. It was hard looking raggedy by the head. I was on the fence about going natural but I knew I couldn’t go back to the perm. The turning point for me was at my sisters wedding. I had to buy a wig because the hair refused to look good. I loved the wig, but it was so hot I knew I wouldn’t be able to do that forever.
One Sunday over my sister’s, I told her, cut it off. She’s like are you sure? I’m like go for it. She cut all the perm off and shaped it into a short afro.
I talked about going gray, well the gray has seriously taking over and it’s been a wild ride. Some days I like it, some days I want to cry. Who is that woman in the mirror? When did she get so old?
A woman told me I looked regal and that I shouldn’t dye my hair. It made me feel good, but it’s still hard to accept the gray. I can’t even post a picture because I’m not ready.
I’ll be 42 in two months and I’ve accepted that I’m getting older. I like it, I just haven’t accepted the gray.
Will I ever accept it?
Stay tune for more on my journey to naturalhood.
What about you, what do you have a hard time accepting as you get older?
P.S. For those on this natural journey, share your experiences with me.
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
Getting Organized
One of the things that have helped me a lot with SORMAG and my writing is a calendar. I put everything on my pocket calendar. It helps me keep everything in order from interview dates to how many words I’ve written for the week. I’m lost without it because this old mind refuses to remember everything.
I found a Free Writer’s Calendar I’d like to share with you. It’s another way to stay organized as you write.
http://organizedwriter.com/calendar
What tools do you use to help you keep organized?
I found a Free Writer’s Calendar I’d like to share with you. It’s another way to stay organized as you write.
http://organizedwriter.com/calendar
What tools do you use to help you keep organized?
Monday, January 05, 2009
Have Tea With Me
To start the New Year off, I invite you to have a cup a tea with me. Pick out your favorite tea or if you hate tea, like my sister told me, have a cup of your favorite beverage.
Take a moment to think about 2008 - the good times and the bad times. I believe the bad times have lessons in them just as the good times.
What lesson did you learn from the bad times?
Losing my aunt, I learned that God is in control and he will bring you through. On those days I really miss her, I just reached for his hand and he would always be there to squeeze mine.
Have you set your goals for 2009? One of my favorite writers, Marilynn Griffith ask her readers to pick a word. My word for this year is commitment.
Do you have a word?
I'm home today with a cold. I started the new year taking it easy. Something I normally don't do. In choosing my word commitment, I made sure to make a commitment to myself. Take time for LaShaunda. Sometimes that means taking it easy.
I look forward to 2009 with my writing. I have three ideas I want to work on and I plan on finishing up on the manuscript I worked on in 2008. I have the online conference this year and the Bring the conference to you tele seminars, so my plate is full.
So tell me what do you have plan for 2009?
My toast to you for 2009, good health, happiness and a peace of mind because I know with all three you can complete all your dreams.
Take a moment to think about 2008 - the good times and the bad times. I believe the bad times have lessons in them just as the good times.
What lesson did you learn from the bad times?
Losing my aunt, I learned that God is in control and he will bring you through. On those days I really miss her, I just reached for his hand and he would always be there to squeeze mine.
Have you set your goals for 2009? One of my favorite writers, Marilynn Griffith ask her readers to pick a word. My word for this year is commitment.
Do you have a word?
I'm home today with a cold. I started the new year taking it easy. Something I normally don't do. In choosing my word commitment, I made sure to make a commitment to myself. Take time for LaShaunda. Sometimes that means taking it easy.
I look forward to 2009 with my writing. I have three ideas I want to work on and I plan on finishing up on the manuscript I worked on in 2008. I have the online conference this year and the Bring the conference to you tele seminars, so my plate is full.
So tell me what do you have plan for 2009?
My toast to you for 2009, good health, happiness and a peace of mind because I know with all three you can complete all your dreams.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Christmas Book Memory
My dear friend Ty Moody, asked me to share my Christmas book memory.
http://aakulturezone.com/wvoices/2008/12/lashaunda-hoffman/
Do you have a Christmas book memory.?
Take a moment to share here and click here to add yours
http://aakulturezone.com/wvoices/2008/12/lashaunda-hoffman/
Do you have a Christmas book memory.?
Take a moment to share here and click here to add yours
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Writer's Wish List 2008
I'm taking a page from my friend Patricia's Wish List
A dedicated block of time each week to do nothing but write.
I stole this wish from Patricia, because I always say I'm gonna and it never happens. So I'm going to try to see this wish come true.
Paid membership for RWA
We don't have an ACFW group here in St. Louis, so I want to rejoin RWA because I miss talking to other writers and I miss not being in the know.
An all-expenses paid writing conference trip
I would love to attend a conference and soak up all the writing knowledge.
Paid subscriptions to The Writer's Digest, and Romantic Times
Paid professional editing for the manuscript
Amazon gift certificates for book purchases
A Kindle
Photo shop or a software that will help me make banners for SORMAG
A dedicated block of time each week to do nothing but write.
I stole this wish from Patricia, because I always say I'm gonna and it never happens. So I'm going to try to see this wish come true.
Paid membership for RWA
We don't have an ACFW group here in St. Louis, so I want to rejoin RWA because I miss talking to other writers and I miss not being in the know.
An all-expenses paid writing conference trip
I would love to attend a conference and soak up all the writing knowledge.
Paid subscriptions to The Writer's Digest, and Romantic Times
Paid professional editing for the manuscript
Amazon gift certificates for book purchases
A Kindle
Photo shop or a software that will help me make banners for SORMAG
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
CFBA: Where Do I Go? - Neta Jackson
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
As a husband/wife writing team, Dave and Neta Jackson are enthusiastic about books, kids, walking with God, gospel music, and each other! Together they are the authors or coauthors of over 100 books. In addition to writing several books about Christian community, the Jacksons have coauthored numerous books with expert resource people on a variety of topics from racial reconciliation to medical ethics to ministry to kids in gangs.Dave and Neta live in Evanston, Illinois, where for twenty-seven years they were part of Reba Place Church, a Christian church community. They are now members of a multi-racial congregation in the Chicago area.
They're trying something new! Not just new for them, but something completely new in Christian fiction: “Parallel novels,” two stories taking place in the same time frame, same neighborhood, involving some of the same characters living through their own dramas and crises but interacting with and affecting one another … just the way it happens in real life.
It’s something that only a husband and wife writing team could pull off. While Neta has Where Do I Go?, her husband Dave has written Harry Bentley's Second Chance.
ABOUT THE BOOK
A story of seeking-and finding-God's will in unlikely places.Gabrielle Fairbanks has nearly lost touch with the carefree, spirited young woman she was when she married her husband fifteen years ago. But when the couple moves to Chicago to accommodate Philip's business ambitions, Gabby finds the chance to make herself useful. It's there she meets the women of Manna House Women's Shelter; they need a Program Director-and she has a degree in social work. She's in her element, feeling God's call on her life at last, even though Philip doesn't like the changes he sees in her. But things get rough when Philip gives Gabby an ultimatum: quit her job at the shelter or risk divorce and losing custody of their sons. Gabby must take refuge, as in the song they sing at Sunday night worship: "Where do I go when there's no one else to turn to? . . . I go to the Rock I know that's able, I go to the Rock."
Romantic Times Book Reviews says, “Exquisite characters coupled with God's mercy and love emanate from each page.”
Publisher's Weekly adds, “Jackson's Yada Yada series has sold half a million copies, and this new offshoot series ... promises the same.... The book's dramatic ending ... leav[es] readers eager for the next installment in the series.”
To read the Prologue and first Chapter of Where Do I Go?, go HERE
Friday, December 12, 2008
Shop.com - Blog Tour
I’m doing my shopping this year online. I found a neat way to shop without visiting a ton of sites. http://www.shop.com/
Shop.com has some nice deals and you get to buy from each store using one shopping cart.
My type of shopping. It sure beats standing in long lines at the stores.
If you stop by the site and like it, please let me know what you think.
SHOP.COM is a new kind of shopping comparison site that offers the most comprehensive shopping experience on the web. Our shopping experts have drawn on their industry experience and insider connections to bring you the best collection of the stores you can't live without, and the brands and products you love – all in one place.
Compare.
Search for the products you love from the best stores on the web and see them side by side. Decide which price, shipping method, and delivery schedule options work best for you.
Learn.
But we don't stop there. Unlike other shopping comparison sites, we offer you a variety of tools and expert advice to help you make informed buying decisions and to find the best product to suit your needs.
Share.
You don't have to take our word for it. Share your opinions through tools like product reviews and My Shop, a place to keep track of your favorites.
Shop!
And when you're ready to buy, we give you options. You can use your secure SHOP.COM account to make purchases across over 800 OneCart® Trusted Merchant Stores, all backed by SHOP.COM's 100% satisfaction guarantee, or you can make your purchase directly from the web sites of one of hundreds of our Partner Stores.
Shop.com has some nice deals and you get to buy from each store using one shopping cart.
My type of shopping. It sure beats standing in long lines at the stores.
If you stop by the site and like it, please let me know what you think.
SHOP.COM is a new kind of shopping comparison site that offers the most comprehensive shopping experience on the web. Our shopping experts have drawn on their industry experience and insider connections to bring you the best collection of the stores you can't live without, and the brands and products you love – all in one place.
Compare.
Search for the products you love from the best stores on the web and see them side by side. Decide which price, shipping method, and delivery schedule options work best for you.
Learn.
But we don't stop there. Unlike other shopping comparison sites, we offer you a variety of tools and expert advice to help you make informed buying decisions and to find the best product to suit your needs.
Share.
You don't have to take our word for it. Share your opinions through tools like product reviews and My Shop, a place to keep track of your favorites.
Shop!
And when you're ready to buy, we give you options. You can use your secure SHOP.COM account to make purchases across over 800 OneCart® Trusted Merchant Stores, all backed by SHOP.COM's 100% satisfaction guarantee, or you can make your purchase directly from the web sites of one of hundreds of our Partner Stores.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
CFBA: Engaging Father Christmas - Robin Jones Gunn
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Robin grew up in Orange County, California and has lived in all kinds of interesting places, including Reno and Hawai’i. She and her husband currently live near Portland, Oregon and have been married for 30 years. They spent their first 22 years of marriage working together in youth ministry, and enjoying life with their son and daughter who are now both grown.
As a frequent speaker at local and international events, one of Robin’s favorite topics is how God is the Relentless Lover and we are His first love. She delights in telling stories of how God uses fiction to change lives.
Robin is the recipient of the Christy Award, the Mt. Hermon Pacesetter Award, the Sherwood E. Wirt Award and is a Gold Medallion Finalist. She also serves on the Board of Directors for Media Associates International and the Board of Directors for Jerry Jenkins’ Christian Writers’ Guild.
ABOUT THE BOOK
Miranda Carson can't wait to return to England for Christmas and to be with her boyfriend, Ian. She has spent a lifetime yearning for a place to call home, and she's sure Carlton Heath will be it, especially when a hinted-at engagement ring slips into the conversation. But Miranda's high hopes for a jolly Christmas with the small circle of people she has come to love are toppled when Ian's father is hospitalized and the matriarch of the Whitcombe family withholds her blessing from Miranda. Questions run rampant in Miranda's mind about whether she really belongs in this cheery corner of the world. Then, when her true identity threatens all her relationships in unanticipated ways, Miranda is certain all is lost.
And yet...maybe Father Christmas has special gifts in store for her after all.
If you would like to read the first chapter of Engaging Father Christmas, go HERE
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
SMORE for Women - Blog Tour
Thank you for the opportunity to share my passion for single mothers. In the United States, alone, there are over ten million mothers raising children alone. Over one third of them live in poverty. After years of being on my own as a mother of three, I came to realize how little is done in our communities and churches for this group of children with absent fathers and women with no husbands. The vast majority does not attend church, but our neighborhoods are filled with single moms.
I’ve created and implemented, along with an eleven member board, a detailed plan for encouraging, inspiring, and blessing single mothers. If you have ever wondered what you could do to make a difference for even one of the moms, this is the answer. It is easy, inexpensive, and exceedingly worthwhile.
You have established a ministry plan for single mothers. What motivated you to do this?
For sixteen years I was a divorced mother with three children. I was fortunate to have family support and yet the disappointment, emotional pain, and daily difficulties were devastating. I’m happily remarried now for twelve years and my passion for the over the ten million single mothers remain strong.
Why do you think a ministry plan is needed?
Single mothers have a difficult time day-in, day-out. I think churches want to provide supportive programs for them, but –though there are some successful ministries—much still needs to be done to minister to single moms. Often what you see on the outside doesn’t reveal the heartache and fear she is experiencing on the inside. Church leader I’ve spoken with have expressed genuine interest in implementing this plan.
What do you call the ministry?
SMORE for Women. SMORE is an acronym for Spiritual Ministry Offering ReTREATs and Encouragement. Our program assists churches in providing Saturday reTREATs in a home or intimate church environment.
What is the ultimate goal of SMORE for Women?
Our mission is to inspire and encourage women, especially single mothers, to discover and develop their abilities and inner strengths. Ultimately I hope to see churches across the country implement these programs. And in the process develop ongoing programs and activities for single mothers in their communities.
How do you convey this information to church leaders who want to provide a program for single moms?
The plan is laid out in detail in print in a guidebook titled Encouraging Single Moms to Grow Their Strengths and with forms on CD’s. I serve as a facilitator when a church implements their first reTREAT.
Tell us why you prefer that the reTREATs be in homes?
Homes provide an intimate, friendly, and non-intimidating environment. Homes also have the amenities for several of the pampering areas. A reTREAT can also take place in a church or other facility.
What do you mean by pampering areas?
At each reTREAT each mom is treated in several areas. Depending on the home she may use a hot tub or swimming pool. She will receive a brief massage, and even have a quiet private prayer time.
Is there any charge or fee to the church for you as a facilitator?
I am available as a facilitator via long distance conference calls. For as long as I can I only ask for a love offering which helps sustain my expenses. If I must travel a long distance I ask for travel expenses. AND if a reTREAT date is on the 2009 calendar by January I will facilitate (via long distance) free of charge. The guidebooks are $20 and each of the Seed Packet booklets for the moms is $10.
What are the costs of implementing a reTREAT?
There is a nominal budget. It is similar to hosting a dinner party. Usually the volunteer hostesses contribute food. Church members donate gifts and invitations can be printed on a home computer, ordered, or printed at church. The ministry is a collaborative endeavor. Our reTREATs are very small with only six to twelve guests.
Are all reTREATs the same?
No. We have eight themes for encouraging moms to discover her inner strengths.
They are
• Personality Predicaments
• Money Matters
• Bonding and Boundaries
• Job Jump Starts
• Dating Do’s
• Nutrition and Manners Matter
• Family Fun
• Grieving a Loss.
Where can we go for more information about the SMORE for Women ministry?
We have a web site which is www.smoreforwomen.org and a blog which is www.seeinguthrough.wordpress.com.
A Retreat can be hosted by a small group of compassionate women. The guidebook, Encouraging Single Mothers to Grow Their Strengths, includes step-by-step guidance for planning and hosting a reTREAT. Once you’ve experienced one Saturday reTREAT filled with joy you will want to plan another and another. In the process you will get acquainted with some remarkable women and you might inspire them as they see Christ in you. Please visit SMORE for Women at www.smoreforwomen.org.
Baby Eistein - Baby Mozart - Blog Tour
Baby Einstein has a new DVD Baby Mozart.
I popped it into the DVD and sat my 23mth old in front of the t.v. He was entranced. He loves music, so I think the music caught his attention. Each song features different scenes and activities.
The music was classical and I enjoyed listening to it too, very soothing.
To our surprise my eight year old sat beside my son and watched the dvd too.
The baby enjoyed the puppy scene and the scene that looks like globs of goop. The eight year old named the planets, impressing me with how many he knew by name.
I think the best part of watching the DVD was the way the baby reacted to each scene. He would talk to the t.v. or try to touch the t.v. He was too funny.
The baby and I are big fans of Baby Einstein. I'm glad we got a chance to try out this DVD, thanks Disney for our free copy.
Now I know what to add to the baby's Christmas list.
I must warn you that we had to watch the DVD five times because my son refuse to let me turn off the DVD. LOL
DVD Viewing Tips
Without exception, one of the most significant moments of discovery for any mom, is the day she realizes her baby truly recognizes her and wants her above all others. That bond, the super-glue of parent child attachment, is the foundation for baby’s healthy development.
At Baby Einstein, each DVD is designed to reinforce parent-child interaction by providing visually interesting, entertaining content that you and your baby can watch together. Whether the theme is art, music, or barnyard animals, each DVD offers an opportunity to cuddle, share, talk, or sing along with your baby. The DVD can also be a jumping off point for more parent child interaction during your everyday routine.
Talk! Talk! Talk!
From the moment we say that first hello to our new baby, we begin developing our little one’s language. So, when you’re watching a Baby Einstein DVD, you don’t have to be quiet. This is a chance to create little stories.
For example, if you see mechanical toys on the DVD, describe the action to your baby—“see the seals go UP the ladder. Now they’re sliding DOWN and around-- very fast.” If your baby starts “talking” back to your sounds, praise, cuddle, and imitate your baby to keep the conversation going. Even if you feel self-conscious about talking to a 6 month old, just stay the course. Your baby is probably listening and may show you with a smile, nod, or squeal, the many different ways they understand your language.
From the Video Theme to the Real World Scene
Whenever there is an opportunity to link what you have seen on the DVD to other experiences in baby’s life, make that connection. For example, if you watched a DVD about animals, you might say, “Oh, look. There’s a BIG fish on the screen. Do we have another fish in our house?” And off you go to look at your gold fish. This kind of activity shows baby that something we see in one place can be seen in other places too.
Bring it to Life
If children or puppets on the DVD are jumping or dancing, you can hold your little one and dance along to show baby how it feels. You can also play infant sized musical instruments to accompany the DVD Orchestra. Or, try using puppets or baby’s favorite stuffed animals to mimic the action in the DVD. You may get giggles from your little one. Babies usually want to do what they see and you can make that happen.
Make it Personal
Try making connections between what happens on screen with what happens in baby’s life. If you have a DVD that contains sign language, try some of the simpler signs with your baby. If you see how the puppets always do silly stuff, bring a puppet to mealtime to help you serve the food or provide additional encouragement to complete the meal.
Make it a Family Affair
Consider using DVD time as a way to interact with the whole family. If baby has an older sibling(s) around you can invite them watch the DVD with you. Encourage your older child to point out the names of the animals, say the colors, or even make animal sounds. They will probably love playing with baby and will be excited about showing off how much they know!
Friday, December 05, 2008
Handbook on Thriving as an Adoptive Family - David & Renee Sanford
Handbook on Thriving as an Adoptive Family
by David Sanford, Renee S. Sanford
Genre: Family & Relationships/ AdoptionProduct
Adoption is a high calling from God, and the Christian home primary soil for planting seeds of faith. But how will post-adoption challenges affect this growth? Most agencies do a great job of connecting families with children who need a forever family. Not many prepare you for the unexpected issues--an adopted child fighting with his new siblings or not wanting to be touched or showing signs of reactive attachment disorder (RAD). The more you know, the more confident you will be to meet the unique needs of your adopted child and your entire family. This distinctly Christian book will equip readers to be successful adoptive parents. Packed from cover to cover with information, advice, ideas, and resources, Handbook on Thriving as an Adoptive Family will inspire and inform parents committed to making adoption work. Handbook on Thriving as an Adoptive Family is the one parenting resource that provides comprehensive, topical, Bible-based solutions for the inevitable challenges after adoption.
Thursday, December 04, 2008
Getting Into The Christmas Spirit
I married a man who doesn’t celebrate Christmas (that’s a whole another post), which meant no Christmas tree or decorations. I had to come up with different ways to get into the Christmas spirit.
One is sending out Christmas cards. It just doesn’t feel like Christmas without getting my cards. Now with the internet people stop using the mail. I miss real letters and cards. Yes I’ll send email cards, but I still enjoy picking out cards and mailing them.
Each year I try to do something different. One year I sent a tea bag with each card and asked the person to take a moment and have a cup of tea with me. I’ve sent cocoa and book marks. When I had a lot of time, I use to send calendars I personalized. I still get requests for those.
I don’t know what I’ll do this year, I haven’t been inspired yet.
My favorite thing to do is make cookies. I’ve been making cookies since I was nine. I enjoy baking and I usually invite all my nieces and nephews to hang out and make cookies for their family. Last year we made our first gingerbread house. I saw some ginger bread men this year I might have to get for the kids.
I love giving gifts too. I find the ones I make are better received than the ones I buy. This year I’m making ceramics for a few people and I’m thinking about doing a few earrings. One year I made everyone an afghan. My hands were so tired after that one, but it was worth the oohs. My family members still have those afghans which makes me feel good.
It’s not Christmas without hearing Alvin and the chipmunks and the Temptations. Blasting those songs on the CD or MP3 really perks me up.
How do you get into the Christmas spirit?
One is sending out Christmas cards. It just doesn’t feel like Christmas without getting my cards. Now with the internet people stop using the mail. I miss real letters and cards. Yes I’ll send email cards, but I still enjoy picking out cards and mailing them.
Each year I try to do something different. One year I sent a tea bag with each card and asked the person to take a moment and have a cup of tea with me. I’ve sent cocoa and book marks. When I had a lot of time, I use to send calendars I personalized. I still get requests for those.
I don’t know what I’ll do this year, I haven’t been inspired yet.
My favorite thing to do is make cookies. I’ve been making cookies since I was nine. I enjoy baking and I usually invite all my nieces and nephews to hang out and make cookies for their family. Last year we made our first gingerbread house. I saw some ginger bread men this year I might have to get for the kids.
I love giving gifts too. I find the ones I make are better received than the ones I buy. This year I’m making ceramics for a few people and I’m thinking about doing a few earrings. One year I made everyone an afghan. My hands were so tired after that one, but it was worth the oohs. My family members still have those afghans which makes me feel good.
It’s not Christmas without hearing Alvin and the chipmunks and the Temptations. Blasting those songs on the CD or MP3 really perks me up.
How do you get into the Christmas spirit?
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
CFBA: Dark Pursuit - Brandilyn Collins
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Brandilyn Collins is known for her trademark Seatbelt Suspense®. She is currently working on her 20th book. For chances to win free copies of her work, join her Fan Club on Facebook. Here’s what Brandilyn has to say about why she wrote Dark Pursuit:
In John Milton’s Paradise Lost Satan’s followers, kicked out of heaven, boast about storming the gates and reclaiming their territory. Beelzebub scoffs at their boasting as merely “hatching vain empires” and suggests a different revengeful scheme: seduce mankind away from God. So Satan visits the Garden of Eden to teach humans the very thing he and his cohorts have learned to be futile—the dark pursuit of hatching their own vain empires instead of following God. He presented man with this “gift” of death, disguised as life. And man fell for it.
Upon this theme of man’s fall and spiritual blindness, I created the characters and events in Dark Pursuit. The story clips along at a fast pace, with much symbolism running underneath.
ABOUT THE BOOK
Dark Pursuit—A twisting story of murder, betrayal, and eternal choicesNovelist Darell Brooke lived for his title as King of Suspense—until an auto accident left him unable to concentrate. Two years later, reclusive and bitter, he wants one thing: to plot a new novel and regain his reputation.
Kaitlan Sering, his twenty-two-year-old granddaughter, once lived for drugs. After she stole from Darell, he cut her off. Now she’s rebuilding her life. But in Kaitlan’s town two women have been murdered, and she’s about to discover a third. She’s even more shocked to realize the culprit—her boyfriend, Craig, the police chief’s son.
Desperate, Kaitlan flees to her estranged grandfather. For over forty years, Darell Brooke has lived suspense. Surely he’ll devise a plan to trap the cunning Craig.
But can Darell’s muddled mind do it? And—if he tries—with what motivation? For Kaitlan’s plight may be the stunning answer to the elusive plot he seeks...
Read the first chapter of Dark Pursuit, HERE.
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
I Found It
Growing up I wanted to be a pastry chef. I loved to bake and I thought this would be the perfect career for me. Then I made a detour into the navy and met the chefs in there and realized it would be better to bake for a hobby and not for a living.
After getting married and having children, I sort of lost my desire to cook or even bake. I think having picky eaters helped. I began to resent cooking. I did a lot of praying over it because I missed how cooking made me feel. I wasn’t feeling the excitement anymore. It had become a chore.
This Thanksgiving, the desire came back. I found myself picking greens, yes this sister was picking turnips greens and not complaining. I baked three cakes, made a roast, mash potatoes, sweet potatoes and corn.
The best part was the feeling was back. I enjoyed cooking again. I guess it’s a good thing with Christmas right around the corner. My kids would never forgive me if I didn’t do our annual cookie making night.
Have you lost the desire to do something and found it again?
Sunday, November 30, 2008
FIRST: Leave it to Chance - Sherri Sand
It is time for the FIRST Blog Tour! On the FIRST day of every month we feature an author and his/her latest book's FIRST chapter!
The feature author is:
and his/her book:
Leave it to Chance
David C. Cook (May 2008)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Sherri Sand is a wife and mother of four young children who keep her scrambling to stay ahead of the spilled milk. When she needs stress relief from wearing all the hats required to clothe, feed and ferry her rambunctious brood, you may find her sitting in a quiet corner of a bistro reading a book (surrounded by chocolate), or running on one of the many trails near her home. Sherri is a member of The Writer’s View and American Christian Fiction Writers. She finds the most joy in writing when the characters take on a life of their own and she becomes the recorder of their stories. She holds a degree in psychology from the University of Oregon where she graduated cum laude. Sherri and her family live in the beautiful Pacific Northwest.
She's also a blogger! So stop by and say hi to Sherri at Creations in the Sand!
Product Details:
List Price: $13.99
Paperback: 353 pages
Publisher: David C. Cook (May 2008)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1434799883
ISBN-13: 978-1434799883
AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:
Sherri Sand is a wife and mother of four young children who keep her scrambling to stay ahead of the spilled milk. When she needs stress relief from wearing all the hats required to clothe, feed and ferry her rambunctious brood, you may find her sitting in a quiet corner of a bistro reading a book (surrounded by chocolate), or running on one of the many trails near her home. Sherri is a member of The Writer’s View and American Christian Fiction Writers. She finds the most joy in writing when the characters take on a life of their own and she becomes the recorder of their stories. She holds a degree in psychology from the University of Oregon where she graduated cum laude. Sherri and her family live in the beautiful Pacific Northwest.She's also a blogger! So stop by and say hi to Sherri at Creations in the Sand!
Product Details:
List Price: $13.99
Paperback: 353 pages
Publisher: David C. Cook (May 2008)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1434799883
ISBN-13: 978-1434799883
AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:
“A horse? Mom, what am I going to do with a horse?” Just what she and the kids did not need. Sierra Montgomery sagged back against her old kitchen counter, where afternoon sunlight dappled the white metal cabinets across from her. She pressed the phone tight against her ear, hoping she’d heard wrong, as her four-year-old son, Trevor, ate grapes at the kitchen table.
“Miss Libby wanted you to have it. I’d think you’d be delighted, what with the kids and all. You remember Sally, Miss Libby’s daughter? Well, she just called and said it was all laid out in the will. None of their family could figure out who Sierra Lassiter Montgomery was until Sally remembered me from her mom’s church. So she called and sure enough, you were my daughter.” Sierra’s mom tsked into the phone. “Well, you know how Sally is.”
Sierra hadn’t the foggiest how Sally was, or even who she was. She barely remembered Miss Libby from her Sunday school class eons ago.
“She acted pleased that her mother gave you the horse, but I could tell she was miffed. Though what Sally Owens would do with a horse, I’d like to know.” Her mom’s voice was tight and controlled as if they were discussing how to deal with black spot on her Old English roses.
“But I don’t want a horse. You, of all people, should know that after what happened when—” How could her mom even suggest she get a horse? Painful pictures of her childhood friend Molly floated through her mind.
“Honey, accidents like that don’t happen more than once in a lifetime. Besides, Miss Libby wouldn’t have owned a crazy horse.”
Sierra stared out the window where the school bus would soon release her most precious treasures. Her mom never had understood the resounding impact that summer day had made in her life.
“You really need to think of the kids and how much fun they’d have. It’s not like you’d ever be able to afford to buy them one.”
Sierra wished she were having this conversation with Elise rather than her mother. Her best friend would understand the danger she feared in horses, and in her humorous way come up with a sensible plan that would include not keeping the animal.
Her mom, on the other hand, lived life as if she were on one of those moving conveyors at the airport that people can step on to rest their feet yet keep moving toward their destination. As long as everyone kept traveling forward, she could ignore the emotional baggage dragging behind.
“I don’t understand why Miss Libby would give the horse to me.”
“You know how my bingo club visited the Somerset rest home every week? Well, Miss Libby’s been there for years and she always did comment on how horse crazy you were when she taught your Sunday school class.”
“Mom, that was a phase I went through when I was ten and found National Velvet and Black Beauty at the library. I haven’t seen Miss Libby since middle school.”
“Obviously you were special to Miss Libby. I’d think you might be a little more grateful.”
Deep breath, Sierra told herself. “I am grateful.” An errant grape rolled next to her toe. Trevor’s blond head was bent, intent on arranging the fruit like green soldiers around the edge of his plate. Sierra tossed the grape into the sink and considered how to respond to her mom. She was a dear, but sometimes the woman was like dry kindling on a hot day, and one little spark…. “I’m just not sure that owning a horse would be a wise move at this point in our lives.”
The front door slammed and Sierra felt the walls shudder with the thud. The 3:00 p.m. stampede through the house meant it was time to get off the phone and determine how to get rid of a horse before the kids found out about it.
Her mom sighed. “It’s too bad Sally won’t keep the horse at her place for you, but she said her husband wants the horse gone. He wants to fill the pasture with sheep.”
Sheep? A kitchen chair scraped over the linoleum as Trevor scooted back from the table and dashed for the living room. “Mommy’s got a horse! Mommy’s got a horse!” Wonderful. Little ears, big mouth.
Braden and Emory shot into the kitchen, bright eyes dancing in tandem. Their words tangled together in fevered excitement despite the fact that she was on the phone.
“Where is it?” Braden’s eleven-year-old grin split his face, and his dark hair was rumpled and sweat streaked, likely from a fevered game of basketball during last recess.
She held a hand up to still the questions as her mom went on about the sheep that Sally’s husband probably did not need.
“We have a horse?” Nine-year-old Emory, her blonde hair still neat in its purple headband, fluttered in front of her mom, delight and hope blooming on her face.
Despite the fear of horses building deep in Sierra’s gut, her children’s excitement was a little contagious. She wished Miss Libby had willed her a cat.
Sierra ran her hand down Emory’s soft cheek and whispered. “I’ll be off the phone in a minute, sweetie.”
“Can we ride it?” Em looked at her with elated eyes.
Braden tossed his backpack on the table. “Where are we going to keep it?”
The kids circled her, jabbering with excited questions. Sierra rubbed her forehead with the tips of her fingers. “I gotta go, Mom. I’ve got to break some cowboy hearts.”
The kids clamored around her, Braden taking the lead with an arm draped across her shoulder. When had he gotten so big? “Do we have a horse, Mom?” He asked the question with a lopsided grin, a foreshadow of the adolescence that had been peeking through lately. The preteen in him didn’t truly believe they had a horse—he was old enough to realize the odds—but little-boy eagerness clung to his smile.
“That would be yes and a no.”
“What? Mom!” he complained.
“I was given a horse, but we’re not going to keep him.” Braden’s arm slid off her shoulder, a scowl replacing his smile. “Why not?”
“Someone gave you a horse?” Emory ignored her brother’s attitude and flashed her most persuasive grin. “Can we keep him? Please!”
Sierra smoothed her hand over the silky hair and leaned close to her daughter’s face as Emory went on. “I think we should get four horses so we each have one. We could go trail riding. Cameron’s mom has horses, and they go riding all the time as a family.”
“We’re not a family anymore,” Braden cut in. “We stopped being a family when mom divorced dad.”
A shard of pain drove into Sierra’s gut. She hadn’t had time to brace for that one. Braden’s anger at the divorce had been building like an old steam engine lately.
“That’s not fair!” Outrage darkened Emory’s features. “It’s not Mom’s fault!”
Sarcasm colored Braden’s voice. “Oh, so it’s all Dad’s fault?”
Sierra saw the confusion that swept over her daughter’s face. She was fiercely loyal to both parents and didn’t know how to defend them against each other.
Sierra spoke in a firm tone. “Braden, that’s enough!”
He scowled at her again. “Whatever.”
Sierra held his gaze until he glanced away.
“Guys, we’re not going to play the blame game. We have plenty to be thankful for, and that’s what is important.”
Braden’s attitude kept pouring it on. “Boy, and we have so much. Spaghetti for dinner every other night.”
“So what, Braden-Maden!” Emory made a face and stuck her tongue out at him.
“No more fighting or you two can go to your rooms.” Her kids were not perfect, but they used to like each other. Something had changed. Her gut said it was her ex-husband, Michael, but what if she was falling into the whole “blame the dad” thing herself? What if she was really the problem? Two weeks without a job had added stress and worry. Had she stopped hugging them as often in between scouring the want ads and trying to manage a home and bills?
“Mom?” There was a quaver in Trevor’s soft voice.
“Yes, honey?” Sierra gave him a gentle smile.
“Can we keep the horse?”
Emory’s blue gaze darted to meet hers, a plea in them. Braden sat with his arms crossed over his chest, but his ears had pricked up.
Sierra looked at them, wanting them to understand and knowing they wouldn’t. “None of us know how to handle or care for a horse, so it wouldn’t be safe to keep him.”
Emory’s face lit up. “Cameron’s mom could teach us.”
“Honey, it’s not that simple. We can’t afford an animal that big. He probably eats as much in groceries as we do, and it would be very expensive to rent a place for him to live.”
“I could mow yards.” Anger at his sister forgotten, Braden turned a hopeful face to her. “We could help out.”
Emory jumped onto the working bandwagon. “Yeah. I could do laundry or something for the neighbors.”
Braden drilled his sister a look that said idiot idea but didn’t say anything.
Trevor bounced in his chair, eager to be a part of keeping the horse. “I could wash cars.”
“Those are great ideas, but they won’t bring in quite enough, especially since it’s getting too cold to mow lawns or wash cars.”
“You just don’t want to keep the horse, Mom,” Braden said. “I get it. End of story.”
“Honey, I’d love for you to have a horse, but when I was young I had a friend—”
Emory spoke in a helpful tone. “We know. Grandma told us about the accident.”
They knew? Wasn’t the story hers to share? “When did Grandma tell you?”
Braden’s voice took on a breezy air. “I don’t know. A while ago. Come on, Mom. We’re not going to do something dumb like your friend did.”
Defensiveness rose inside. “She didn’t do anything dumb. It was the horse that—”
“So because something bad happened to one person, your kids can never do anything fun for the rest of their lives.”
Sierra gave him a look. “Or you learn from your mistakes and help your kids to do the same.”
Braden rolled his eyes at her.
Worry drew lines across her daughter’s forehead. “Are you going to sell him?”
“Yes, Em. So we’re not going to discuss this anymore. You and Braden have homework to do.” At the chorus of groans she held her hands up. “Okay, I guess I’ll have to eat Grandma’s apple pie all by myself.”
Braden grabbed his backpack and slowly dragged it across the floor toward the stairs, annoyance in his voice. “We’re going.” Emory trotted past him up the stairs.
Trevor remained behind, one arm wrapped around her thigh. “I don’t have any homework.”
She squatted and pulled him in for a hug. “Nope, you sure don’t, bud.”
He leaned back. “Do I get a horse?”
Sierra distracted him by inching her fingers up his ribs. “What, Trev?”
He tried to talk around his giggles. “Do I get—Mom!” Her fingers found the tickle spots under his arms and he laughed, his eyes squinted shut and mouth opened wide. She found all his giggle spots, then turned on Sesame Street as the second distraction. Good old Bert and Ernie.
Now what? She had roughly forty-five minutes to figure out how she was going to get rid of a horse and not be a complete zero in her kids’ eyes.
She eyed the phone and made her next move. Five minutes later a white Mazda whipped into her driveway. Sierra hurried out the front door waving her arms to stop Elise before she could start her ritual honking for the kids.
Wide eyed, her platinum blonde friend stared, one long plum-colored nail hovering above the “ooga” horn on the dash. “What?”
“I don’t want the kids to know you’re here.”
Wicked delight spread across her perfectly made-up face. Light plum shadow matched her nails. Tomorrow, both eye shadow and nails could be green. “Let me guess! Mr. Pellum asked you out!”
“Nooooo!” Mr. Pellum was a teacher Sierra and Elise had had a crush on in seventh grade.
“Ummm … you robbed a bank and need me to watch the kids while you fly to Tahiti?”
Sierra gave her a mock-serious look. “Done?”
Elise tilted her head. “Can I get out of the car?”
Sierra glanced toward the house. All was still silent. “Yes, you may.”
Deadpan, Elise nodded and opened the door. “Then I’m done for now.” Her plump body, swathed in a creamy suit with a purple scarf draped across one shoulder, rose gracefully from the small two-seater.
Sierra closed the door for her, then leaned against it. Elise had a way of removing the extraneous and reducing a problem down to the bare essentials. “Elise, I’m in a predicament.”
“Hon, I’ve been trying to tell you that for years.”
Sierra shook her head. “I don’t think you could have seen this one coming even with your crystal ball.”
Elise gave her the spinster teacher look through narrowed eyes. “I don’t think I like the implications of that.”
Sierra held her hands out. “You are the queen of mind-reading, according to my children.”
Elise chuckled. “It’s a good thing I was just headed out for a latte break when you called. Now what’s the big emergency?” She owned a high-end clothing store for plus-sized women in downtown Eugene.
“A horse.”
Elise glanced around as if one or two might be lurking behind a tree.
“A herd of them or just one?”
“One. Full-sized. Living and breathing.”
“I believe I’m missing some pieces here. Is it moving in with you? Holding one of the children hostage? What?”
Sierra breathed out a slight chuckle and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “You’re not going to believe this, but I inherited it.”
Her friend’s eyes grew wide, emphasizing the lushly mascaraed lashes. “Like someone died and gave you their horse?”
Sierra nodded, raising her brows. “And the kids want to keep him.”
Furrows emerged across Elise’s forehead. “Who is the idiot that told them about the horse?”
Sierra tilted her head with a look that only best friends could give each other.
Elise’s perfectly painted lips smirked. “Moving along, then. Why don’t you keep it? The kids would love it. Heaven knows they deserve it.” She clapped her hands together. “Oh, oh! They could get into 4-H, and Braden could learn to barrel race. That kid would think he’d won the jackpot. Emory and Trevor could get a pig or some of those show roosters.”
Sierra let the idea machine wind down. “I don’t think so.”
“Angora rabbits?”
“No farm animals.”
Elise’s mouth perked into humorous pout. “Sierra, you’re such a spoilsport. Those kids need a pet.”
“A hamster is a pet. A horse is not.”
Diva Elise took the stage, hands on her ample hips. “Don’t tell me you didn’t want a horse growing up. Remember, I was the one who had to sit and watch National Velvet with you time ad nauseam. You’ve said yourself that Braden needs something to take his mind off the problems he’s having at school and with his dad.”
Guilt, a wheelbarrow load of it, dumped on Sierra. “You are supposed to be helping me, Elise, not making it worse. I want to get rid of this horse and …” her eyes dodged away from her friend, “… you know.”
“Mmm-hmm. And still look like Super Mom in your children’s eyes.”
Sierra nodded, but couldn’t find the nerve to say yes.
“Sierra Montgomery, those children have been to heck and back in the last couple years and you’re willing to deny them the pleasure of owning their own free horse because … because of what?”
Sierra stared at the ground for a moment, feeling a tangle of emotions rise within. She let her eyes rest on Elise’s and said quietly, “Fear? Terror? Hysteria?”
A look of puzzlement, then understanding settled on Elise’s face, smoothing away the annoyance. “Molly.”
Sierra nodded. “I won’t put my children in that kind of danger.”
Elise leaned forward and grabbed Sierra’s hands, holding them tight. “Oh, hon. That was a long time ago. Don’t let your life be ruled by the what-ifs. There’s a lot of living left to do. And your kids need to see you taking life by storm, taking chances, not hiding in the shadows.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You were voted most likely to parachute off the Empire State Building.”
Elise gave her a cheeky grin, both dimples winking at her. “We could do it tandem!”
“If you see me jump off the Empire State Building you’ll know my lobotomy was successful, because there is no way in this lifetime you’ll catch this body leaving good sense behind!” Sierra heard the words come from her own mouth and stared at her friend in wonder. “Oh, my gosh. That was so my mom.”
“It was bound to happen, hon.”
Was she serious? “You think I’m turning into her?” Sierra brought a hand to her throat and quickly dropped it. How many times had she seen her mom use the same gesture?
Elise laughed. “You need to stop fretting and just live. We all turn out like our mothers in some respect.”
“All except you. You’re nothing like Vivian.”
“Other than the drinking, smoking, and carousing, I’m exactly like her.”
Sierra lifted a brow. Her mom had rarely let her go to Elise’s house when they were growing up—and for good reason. Elise struck a pose like a fashion model. “Okay, I’m the anti-Vivian.” She gave Sierra a soft smile. “All funnin’ aside, I really think you should keep the horse.”
“I’m not keeping the horse. And even if I wanted to, I couldn’t.” Sierra took a settling breath and stared at the tree over Elise’s shoulder.
“Michael still hasn’t paid?”
Elise knew more about her finances than her mom did. “He paid, but the check bounced again. So now he’s two months behind in child support.”
“Have you heard if Pollan’s is rehiring?”
“They’re not.” Jarrett’s, the local grocery store where she worked for the three years since the divorce had been recently bought out by Pollan’s. They had laid off the majority of the checkers with the possibility of rehiring some.
Elise cringed as if she was bracing herself for a blow. “And the unemployment fiasco?”
Sierra shut her eyes. “Mr. Jarrett did not pay into our unemployment insurance, so there is no benefit for us to draw from. Yes, it was illegal, and yes he will pay, but it may take months, if not years, for various lawyers and judges to beat it out of him.” She gave Elise a tired smile. “That’s the version minus all the legalese.”
“So the layoffs are final, no unemployment bennies, and you’re out of a job.”
“Momentarily. The résumé has been dusted off and polished.” She gave a wry grin.
“I wish I could hire you at Deluxe Couture, but I promised Nora fulltime work. And besides, your cute little buns would drive my clientele away.”
Sierra waved a hand over her jeans and sweatshirt. “Your clientele would outshine me any day.”
“You sell yourself far too short.” Elise glanced at the hefty rhinestone encrusted watch on her wrist. “Anything else I can do for you? Help the kids with their homework? Babysit while you sweep some tall, dark, handsome man off his feet?”
Sierra laughed. “And where is this dream man going to come from?”
Elise gave a breezy wave of her hand and opened the car door. “Oh, he’ll turn up. You’re too cute to stay single. I actually have someone in mind. Pavo Marcello. He’s a new sales rep from one of my favorite lines. I’ll see if he’s free Friday night. You aren’t doing anything, are you?”
“Hold on!” Sierra stepped in front of the car door to keep her friend from leaving. “First, I’m not looking. Second, given my history, I’m not the best judge of character. I’ve already struck out once in the man department.” She pointed to her face with both index fingers. “Not anxious to try again. Third, you just told me I’m turning into my mom, which makes me definitely not dating material.”
A twist of Elise’s lips signaled a thought. “You know, now that I think about it, I believe he has a boyfriend.” She shook her head and lowered herself into the car. “We’ll keep looking. I’m sure Sir Knight will turn up.”
Sierra shut the car door and grinned down at her friend. “And what about finding your knight?”
Elise gave her a bright smile. “Mr. Pellum is already taken. You really need to find a way to keep that horse; it’ll be your first noble sacrifice.”
“First?”
The little car backed up, and Elise spoke over the windshield. “The others don’t count.”
Sierra stared at the retreating car. There was no way she was keeping that horse.
After dinner, Sierra crept into Braden’s room. He sat on the bed intent on the Game Boy in his lap, the tinny sound of hard rock bleeding out of his earphones. She waved a hand and he glanced up. She waited and with a look of preteen exasperation he finally pulled the headphones to his shoulders.
“What, Mom?”
“I just wanted to say good night.”
“Good night.” His hands started to readjust the music back into position.
“I looked at your homework.”
“You got into my backpack? Isn’t that like against the law or something? You’re always telling us not to get into your stuff.”
She crossed her arms. Frustration and worry gnawed at her. “You lied to me about doing your assignment. Why, honey?”
He ignored her and started playing his Game Boy.
She took one step and snatched the game from his hands.
“Hey!”
“I want some respect when I talk to you, Braden.”
His chin sank toward his chest, his gaze fixed on his bed, his voice low. “I didn’t want to do it.”
She sat next to him, her voice soft. “Is it too hard?”
He shrugged. “It gives me a headache when I work on it.”
“Braden, if you need help, I’d be happy to work with you after school.”
He stared at his knees and picked at a loose string of cotton on his pajama bottoms.
“I got a phone call from Mrs. Hamison today.”
His body came alert, though he didn’t look at her.
“She said you’re flunking most of your subjects, and she hasn’t seen any homework from you since school started a month ago.”
He glanced up, his jaw belligerent, but with fear in his eyes.
“What’s going on? I know school isn’t easy, but you’ve never given up before.”
“Middle school’s harder.”
She wanted to touch him, to brush the hair off his forehead and snuggle him close the way she used to when he was small. Back when a hug and a treat shared over the kitchen table was enough to bring the sparkle back to her son. “She thinks we should have your vision tested.”
“Why?”
“She’s noticed some things in class and thinks it might be helpful.”
He shrugged again. “Can I have my game back?”
“You lied to me, son. Again.”
“Sor-ry.”
“You break trust every time you choose to be dishonest. Is that what you want?”
His voice was sullen and he stared at his comforter. “No.”
She touched his leg. “What’s bothering you, honey?”
“I dunno. Can I have my game back?”
She stood up. There was a time for talking and this obviously wasn’t it. “You can have it tomorrow.”
But would tomorrow be any different?
“Miss Libby wanted you to have it. I’d think you’d be delighted, what with the kids and all. You remember Sally, Miss Libby’s daughter? Well, she just called and said it was all laid out in the will. None of their family could figure out who Sierra Lassiter Montgomery was until Sally remembered me from her mom’s church. So she called and sure enough, you were my daughter.” Sierra’s mom tsked into the phone. “Well, you know how Sally is.”
Sierra hadn’t the foggiest how Sally was, or even who she was. She barely remembered Miss Libby from her Sunday school class eons ago.
“She acted pleased that her mother gave you the horse, but I could tell she was miffed. Though what Sally Owens would do with a horse, I’d like to know.” Her mom’s voice was tight and controlled as if they were discussing how to deal with black spot on her Old English roses.
“But I don’t want a horse. You, of all people, should know that after what happened when—” How could her mom even suggest she get a horse? Painful pictures of her childhood friend Molly floated through her mind.
“Honey, accidents like that don’t happen more than once in a lifetime. Besides, Miss Libby wouldn’t have owned a crazy horse.”
Sierra stared out the window where the school bus would soon release her most precious treasures. Her mom never had understood the resounding impact that summer day had made in her life.
“You really need to think of the kids and how much fun they’d have. It’s not like you’d ever be able to afford to buy them one.”
Sierra wished she were having this conversation with Elise rather than her mother. Her best friend would understand the danger she feared in horses, and in her humorous way come up with a sensible plan that would include not keeping the animal.
Her mom, on the other hand, lived life as if she were on one of those moving conveyors at the airport that people can step on to rest their feet yet keep moving toward their destination. As long as everyone kept traveling forward, she could ignore the emotional baggage dragging behind.
“I don’t understand why Miss Libby would give the horse to me.”
“You know how my bingo club visited the Somerset rest home every week? Well, Miss Libby’s been there for years and she always did comment on how horse crazy you were when she taught your Sunday school class.”
“Mom, that was a phase I went through when I was ten and found National Velvet and Black Beauty at the library. I haven’t seen Miss Libby since middle school.”
“Obviously you were special to Miss Libby. I’d think you might be a little more grateful.”
Deep breath, Sierra told herself. “I am grateful.” An errant grape rolled next to her toe. Trevor’s blond head was bent, intent on arranging the fruit like green soldiers around the edge of his plate. Sierra tossed the grape into the sink and considered how to respond to her mom. She was a dear, but sometimes the woman was like dry kindling on a hot day, and one little spark…. “I’m just not sure that owning a horse would be a wise move at this point in our lives.”
The front door slammed and Sierra felt the walls shudder with the thud. The 3:00 p.m. stampede through the house meant it was time to get off the phone and determine how to get rid of a horse before the kids found out about it.
Her mom sighed. “It’s too bad Sally won’t keep the horse at her place for you, but she said her husband wants the horse gone. He wants to fill the pasture with sheep.”
Sheep? A kitchen chair scraped over the linoleum as Trevor scooted back from the table and dashed for the living room. “Mommy’s got a horse! Mommy’s got a horse!” Wonderful. Little ears, big mouth.
Braden and Emory shot into the kitchen, bright eyes dancing in tandem. Their words tangled together in fevered excitement despite the fact that she was on the phone.
“Where is it?” Braden’s eleven-year-old grin split his face, and his dark hair was rumpled and sweat streaked, likely from a fevered game of basketball during last recess.
She held a hand up to still the questions as her mom went on about the sheep that Sally’s husband probably did not need.
“We have a horse?” Nine-year-old Emory, her blonde hair still neat in its purple headband, fluttered in front of her mom, delight and hope blooming on her face.
Despite the fear of horses building deep in Sierra’s gut, her children’s excitement was a little contagious. She wished Miss Libby had willed her a cat.
Sierra ran her hand down Emory’s soft cheek and whispered. “I’ll be off the phone in a minute, sweetie.”
“Can we ride it?” Em looked at her with elated eyes.
Braden tossed his backpack on the table. “Where are we going to keep it?”
The kids circled her, jabbering with excited questions. Sierra rubbed her forehead with the tips of her fingers. “I gotta go, Mom. I’ve got to break some cowboy hearts.”
The kids clamored around her, Braden taking the lead with an arm draped across her shoulder. When had he gotten so big? “Do we have a horse, Mom?” He asked the question with a lopsided grin, a foreshadow of the adolescence that had been peeking through lately. The preteen in him didn’t truly believe they had a horse—he was old enough to realize the odds—but little-boy eagerness clung to his smile.
“That would be yes and a no.”
“What? Mom!” he complained.
“I was given a horse, but we’re not going to keep him.” Braden’s arm slid off her shoulder, a scowl replacing his smile. “Why not?”
“Someone gave you a horse?” Emory ignored her brother’s attitude and flashed her most persuasive grin. “Can we keep him? Please!”
Sierra smoothed her hand over the silky hair and leaned close to her daughter’s face as Emory went on. “I think we should get four horses so we each have one. We could go trail riding. Cameron’s mom has horses, and they go riding all the time as a family.”
“We’re not a family anymore,” Braden cut in. “We stopped being a family when mom divorced dad.”
A shard of pain drove into Sierra’s gut. She hadn’t had time to brace for that one. Braden’s anger at the divorce had been building like an old steam engine lately.
“That’s not fair!” Outrage darkened Emory’s features. “It’s not Mom’s fault!”
Sarcasm colored Braden’s voice. “Oh, so it’s all Dad’s fault?”
Sierra saw the confusion that swept over her daughter’s face. She was fiercely loyal to both parents and didn’t know how to defend them against each other.
Sierra spoke in a firm tone. “Braden, that’s enough!”
He scowled at her again. “Whatever.”
Sierra held his gaze until he glanced away.
“Guys, we’re not going to play the blame game. We have plenty to be thankful for, and that’s what is important.”
Braden’s attitude kept pouring it on. “Boy, and we have so much. Spaghetti for dinner every other night.”
“So what, Braden-Maden!” Emory made a face and stuck her tongue out at him.
“No more fighting or you two can go to your rooms.” Her kids were not perfect, but they used to like each other. Something had changed. Her gut said it was her ex-husband, Michael, but what if she was falling into the whole “blame the dad” thing herself? What if she was really the problem? Two weeks without a job had added stress and worry. Had she stopped hugging them as often in between scouring the want ads and trying to manage a home and bills?
“Mom?” There was a quaver in Trevor’s soft voice.
“Yes, honey?” Sierra gave him a gentle smile.
“Can we keep the horse?”
Emory’s blue gaze darted to meet hers, a plea in them. Braden sat with his arms crossed over his chest, but his ears had pricked up.
Sierra looked at them, wanting them to understand and knowing they wouldn’t. “None of us know how to handle or care for a horse, so it wouldn’t be safe to keep him.”
Emory’s face lit up. “Cameron’s mom could teach us.”
“Honey, it’s not that simple. We can’t afford an animal that big. He probably eats as much in groceries as we do, and it would be very expensive to rent a place for him to live.”
“I could mow yards.” Anger at his sister forgotten, Braden turned a hopeful face to her. “We could help out.”
Emory jumped onto the working bandwagon. “Yeah. I could do laundry or something for the neighbors.”
Braden drilled his sister a look that said idiot idea but didn’t say anything.
Trevor bounced in his chair, eager to be a part of keeping the horse. “I could wash cars.”
“Those are great ideas, but they won’t bring in quite enough, especially since it’s getting too cold to mow lawns or wash cars.”
“You just don’t want to keep the horse, Mom,” Braden said. “I get it. End of story.”
“Honey, I’d love for you to have a horse, but when I was young I had a friend—”
Emory spoke in a helpful tone. “We know. Grandma told us about the accident.”
They knew? Wasn’t the story hers to share? “When did Grandma tell you?”
Braden’s voice took on a breezy air. “I don’t know. A while ago. Come on, Mom. We’re not going to do something dumb like your friend did.”
Defensiveness rose inside. “She didn’t do anything dumb. It was the horse that—”
“So because something bad happened to one person, your kids can never do anything fun for the rest of their lives.”
Sierra gave him a look. “Or you learn from your mistakes and help your kids to do the same.”
Braden rolled his eyes at her.
Worry drew lines across her daughter’s forehead. “Are you going to sell him?”
“Yes, Em. So we’re not going to discuss this anymore. You and Braden have homework to do.” At the chorus of groans she held her hands up. “Okay, I guess I’ll have to eat Grandma’s apple pie all by myself.”
Braden grabbed his backpack and slowly dragged it across the floor toward the stairs, annoyance in his voice. “We’re going.” Emory trotted past him up the stairs.
Trevor remained behind, one arm wrapped around her thigh. “I don’t have any homework.”
She squatted and pulled him in for a hug. “Nope, you sure don’t, bud.”
He leaned back. “Do I get a horse?”
Sierra distracted him by inching her fingers up his ribs. “What, Trev?”
He tried to talk around his giggles. “Do I get—Mom!” Her fingers found the tickle spots under his arms and he laughed, his eyes squinted shut and mouth opened wide. She found all his giggle spots, then turned on Sesame Street as the second distraction. Good old Bert and Ernie.
Now what? She had roughly forty-five minutes to figure out how she was going to get rid of a horse and not be a complete zero in her kids’ eyes.
She eyed the phone and made her next move. Five minutes later a white Mazda whipped into her driveway. Sierra hurried out the front door waving her arms to stop Elise before she could start her ritual honking for the kids.
Wide eyed, her platinum blonde friend stared, one long plum-colored nail hovering above the “ooga” horn on the dash. “What?”
“I don’t want the kids to know you’re here.”
Wicked delight spread across her perfectly made-up face. Light plum shadow matched her nails. Tomorrow, both eye shadow and nails could be green. “Let me guess! Mr. Pellum asked you out!”
“Nooooo!” Mr. Pellum was a teacher Sierra and Elise had had a crush on in seventh grade.
“Ummm … you robbed a bank and need me to watch the kids while you fly to Tahiti?”
Sierra gave her a mock-serious look. “Done?”
Elise tilted her head. “Can I get out of the car?”
Sierra glanced toward the house. All was still silent. “Yes, you may.”
Deadpan, Elise nodded and opened the door. “Then I’m done for now.” Her plump body, swathed in a creamy suit with a purple scarf draped across one shoulder, rose gracefully from the small two-seater.
Sierra closed the door for her, then leaned against it. Elise had a way of removing the extraneous and reducing a problem down to the bare essentials. “Elise, I’m in a predicament.”
“Hon, I’ve been trying to tell you that for years.”
Sierra shook her head. “I don’t think you could have seen this one coming even with your crystal ball.”
Elise gave her the spinster teacher look through narrowed eyes. “I don’t think I like the implications of that.”
Sierra held her hands out. “You are the queen of mind-reading, according to my children.”
Elise chuckled. “It’s a good thing I was just headed out for a latte break when you called. Now what’s the big emergency?” She owned a high-end clothing store for plus-sized women in downtown Eugene.
“A horse.”
Elise glanced around as if one or two might be lurking behind a tree.
“A herd of them or just one?”
“One. Full-sized. Living and breathing.”
“I believe I’m missing some pieces here. Is it moving in with you? Holding one of the children hostage? What?”
Sierra breathed out a slight chuckle and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “You’re not going to believe this, but I inherited it.”
Her friend’s eyes grew wide, emphasizing the lushly mascaraed lashes. “Like someone died and gave you their horse?”
Sierra nodded, raising her brows. “And the kids want to keep him.”
Furrows emerged across Elise’s forehead. “Who is the idiot that told them about the horse?”
Sierra tilted her head with a look that only best friends could give each other.
Elise’s perfectly painted lips smirked. “Moving along, then. Why don’t you keep it? The kids would love it. Heaven knows they deserve it.” She clapped her hands together. “Oh, oh! They could get into 4-H, and Braden could learn to barrel race. That kid would think he’d won the jackpot. Emory and Trevor could get a pig or some of those show roosters.”
Sierra let the idea machine wind down. “I don’t think so.”
“Angora rabbits?”
“No farm animals.”
Elise’s mouth perked into humorous pout. “Sierra, you’re such a spoilsport. Those kids need a pet.”
“A hamster is a pet. A horse is not.”
Diva Elise took the stage, hands on her ample hips. “Don’t tell me you didn’t want a horse growing up. Remember, I was the one who had to sit and watch National Velvet with you time ad nauseam. You’ve said yourself that Braden needs something to take his mind off the problems he’s having at school and with his dad.”
Guilt, a wheelbarrow load of it, dumped on Sierra. “You are supposed to be helping me, Elise, not making it worse. I want to get rid of this horse and …” her eyes dodged away from her friend, “… you know.”
“Mmm-hmm. And still look like Super Mom in your children’s eyes.”
Sierra nodded, but couldn’t find the nerve to say yes.
“Sierra Montgomery, those children have been to heck and back in the last couple years and you’re willing to deny them the pleasure of owning their own free horse because … because of what?”
Sierra stared at the ground for a moment, feeling a tangle of emotions rise within. She let her eyes rest on Elise’s and said quietly, “Fear? Terror? Hysteria?”
A look of puzzlement, then understanding settled on Elise’s face, smoothing away the annoyance. “Molly.”
Sierra nodded. “I won’t put my children in that kind of danger.”
Elise leaned forward and grabbed Sierra’s hands, holding them tight. “Oh, hon. That was a long time ago. Don’t let your life be ruled by the what-ifs. There’s a lot of living left to do. And your kids need to see you taking life by storm, taking chances, not hiding in the shadows.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You were voted most likely to parachute off the Empire State Building.”
Elise gave her a cheeky grin, both dimples winking at her. “We could do it tandem!”
“If you see me jump off the Empire State Building you’ll know my lobotomy was successful, because there is no way in this lifetime you’ll catch this body leaving good sense behind!” Sierra heard the words come from her own mouth and stared at her friend in wonder. “Oh, my gosh. That was so my mom.”
“It was bound to happen, hon.”
Was she serious? “You think I’m turning into her?” Sierra brought a hand to her throat and quickly dropped it. How many times had she seen her mom use the same gesture?
Elise laughed. “You need to stop fretting and just live. We all turn out like our mothers in some respect.”
“All except you. You’re nothing like Vivian.”
“Other than the drinking, smoking, and carousing, I’m exactly like her.”
Sierra lifted a brow. Her mom had rarely let her go to Elise’s house when they were growing up—and for good reason. Elise struck a pose like a fashion model. “Okay, I’m the anti-Vivian.” She gave Sierra a soft smile. “All funnin’ aside, I really think you should keep the horse.”
“I’m not keeping the horse. And even if I wanted to, I couldn’t.” Sierra took a settling breath and stared at the tree over Elise’s shoulder.
“Michael still hasn’t paid?”
Elise knew more about her finances than her mom did. “He paid, but the check bounced again. So now he’s two months behind in child support.”
“Have you heard if Pollan’s is rehiring?”
“They’re not.” Jarrett’s, the local grocery store where she worked for the three years since the divorce had been recently bought out by Pollan’s. They had laid off the majority of the checkers with the possibility of rehiring some.
Elise cringed as if she was bracing herself for a blow. “And the unemployment fiasco?”
Sierra shut her eyes. “Mr. Jarrett did not pay into our unemployment insurance, so there is no benefit for us to draw from. Yes, it was illegal, and yes he will pay, but it may take months, if not years, for various lawyers and judges to beat it out of him.” She gave Elise a tired smile. “That’s the version minus all the legalese.”
“So the layoffs are final, no unemployment bennies, and you’re out of a job.”
“Momentarily. The résumé has been dusted off and polished.” She gave a wry grin.
“I wish I could hire you at Deluxe Couture, but I promised Nora fulltime work. And besides, your cute little buns would drive my clientele away.”
Sierra waved a hand over her jeans and sweatshirt. “Your clientele would outshine me any day.”
“You sell yourself far too short.” Elise glanced at the hefty rhinestone encrusted watch on her wrist. “Anything else I can do for you? Help the kids with their homework? Babysit while you sweep some tall, dark, handsome man off his feet?”
Sierra laughed. “And where is this dream man going to come from?”
Elise gave a breezy wave of her hand and opened the car door. “Oh, he’ll turn up. You’re too cute to stay single. I actually have someone in mind. Pavo Marcello. He’s a new sales rep from one of my favorite lines. I’ll see if he’s free Friday night. You aren’t doing anything, are you?”
“Hold on!” Sierra stepped in front of the car door to keep her friend from leaving. “First, I’m not looking. Second, given my history, I’m not the best judge of character. I’ve already struck out once in the man department.” She pointed to her face with both index fingers. “Not anxious to try again. Third, you just told me I’m turning into my mom, which makes me definitely not dating material.”
A twist of Elise’s lips signaled a thought. “You know, now that I think about it, I believe he has a boyfriend.” She shook her head and lowered herself into the car. “We’ll keep looking. I’m sure Sir Knight will turn up.”
Sierra shut the car door and grinned down at her friend. “And what about finding your knight?”
Elise gave her a bright smile. “Mr. Pellum is already taken. You really need to find a way to keep that horse; it’ll be your first noble sacrifice.”
“First?”
The little car backed up, and Elise spoke over the windshield. “The others don’t count.”
Sierra stared at the retreating car. There was no way she was keeping that horse.
After dinner, Sierra crept into Braden’s room. He sat on the bed intent on the Game Boy in his lap, the tinny sound of hard rock bleeding out of his earphones. She waved a hand and he glanced up. She waited and with a look of preteen exasperation he finally pulled the headphones to his shoulders.
“What, Mom?”
“I just wanted to say good night.”
“Good night.” His hands started to readjust the music back into position.
“I looked at your homework.”
“You got into my backpack? Isn’t that like against the law or something? You’re always telling us not to get into your stuff.”
She crossed her arms. Frustration and worry gnawed at her. “You lied to me about doing your assignment. Why, honey?”
He ignored her and started playing his Game Boy.
She took one step and snatched the game from his hands.
“Hey!”
“I want some respect when I talk to you, Braden.”
His chin sank toward his chest, his gaze fixed on his bed, his voice low. “I didn’t want to do it.”
She sat next to him, her voice soft. “Is it too hard?”
He shrugged. “It gives me a headache when I work on it.”
“Braden, if you need help, I’d be happy to work with you after school.”
He stared at his knees and picked at a loose string of cotton on his pajama bottoms.
“I got a phone call from Mrs. Hamison today.”
His body came alert, though he didn’t look at her.
“She said you’re flunking most of your subjects, and she hasn’t seen any homework from you since school started a month ago.”
He glanced up, his jaw belligerent, but with fear in his eyes.
“What’s going on? I know school isn’t easy, but you’ve never given up before.”
“Middle school’s harder.”
She wanted to touch him, to brush the hair off his forehead and snuggle him close the way she used to when he was small. Back when a hug and a treat shared over the kitchen table was enough to bring the sparkle back to her son. “She thinks we should have your vision tested.”
“Why?”
“She’s noticed some things in class and thinks it might be helpful.”
He shrugged again. “Can I have my game back?”
“You lied to me, son. Again.”
“Sor-ry.”
“You break trust every time you choose to be dishonest. Is that what you want?”
His voice was sullen and he stared at his comforter. “No.”
She touched his leg. “What’s bothering you, honey?”
“I dunno. Can I have my game back?”
She stood up. There was a time for talking and this obviously wasn’t it. “You can have it tomorrow.”
But would tomorrow be any different?
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Grace Blast
Today I received a Grace Blast from Claudia Mair Burney, just a few words to lift my spirit. Sometimes we need a few words to help us along the way. - Thank you Claudia.
Today I want to talk about a few other Grace Blasts I’ve received this year.
Linda Beed – I’m going to call her my spiritual writing mentor. I’ve known her a few years online, but we finally met this year at Slam. She’s me when I grow up. LOL
I don’t think she knows how much her weekly phone calls meant to me this year. We shared ideas about writing and SORMAG. She kicked me off the fence a many of times. Her group held writing a contest and I was one of the winners. Talking about smiling for a week.
Marilynn Griffith – She has become one of my favorite authors. I know when I pick up one her books she’s going to inspire me and lift up my spirits. Her emails always come when I need them. She understands this writing journey because she’s been there and done that. I just want her to know that I appreciate her and her words of encouragement.
Patricia Woodside and Ty Moody – Two writers who are on this path with me. We hold each other up and we share our wealth of knowledge. You two have pushed me when I didn’t want to be pushed. Your posts on your blogs encourage me to keep on and I know one day I will be introducing the world to your books. I can’t wait.
Rhonda McKnight – I’m so excited to know your writing career is taking off. I look forward to reading your books. Thank you for your critiques, I so needed them, and this year they help me improve my manuscript. I look forward to introducing you to my SORMAG readers.
There are many more spirits who have blessed me this year, just wanted to send out a thank you to these wonderful people. I’m so thankful for having you in my life.
Thank you Linda, Marilynn, Patricia, Ty and Rhonda for being my friend.
Today I want to talk about a few other Grace Blasts I’ve received this year.
Linda Beed – I’m going to call her my spiritual writing mentor. I’ve known her a few years online, but we finally met this year at Slam. She’s me when I grow up. LOL
I don’t think she knows how much her weekly phone calls meant to me this year. We shared ideas about writing and SORMAG. She kicked me off the fence a many of times. Her group held writing a contest and I was one of the winners. Talking about smiling for a week.
Marilynn Griffith – She has become one of my favorite authors. I know when I pick up one her books she’s going to inspire me and lift up my spirits. Her emails always come when I need them. She understands this writing journey because she’s been there and done that. I just want her to know that I appreciate her and her words of encouragement.
Patricia Woodside and Ty Moody – Two writers who are on this path with me. We hold each other up and we share our wealth of knowledge. You two have pushed me when I didn’t want to be pushed. Your posts on your blogs encourage me to keep on and I know one day I will be introducing the world to your books. I can’t wait.
Rhonda McKnight – I’m so excited to know your writing career is taking off. I look forward to reading your books. Thank you for your critiques, I so needed them, and this year they help me improve my manuscript. I look forward to introducing you to my SORMAG readers.
There are many more spirits who have blessed me this year, just wanted to send out a thank you to these wonderful people. I’m so thankful for having you in my life.
Thank you Linda, Marilynn, Patricia, Ty and Rhonda for being my friend.
Monday, November 24, 2008
CFBA: Beloved Captive - Kathleen Y’Barbo
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
There’s never a dull moment in the Y’Barbo household! From hockey and cheer mom to publicist to bestselling author, Kathleen Y’Barbo somehow manages to do it all - and well. While wearing her publicist’s hat, Kathleen has secured interviews with radio, television, and print media for clients at NavPress, Hatchette, Integrity, Barbour Publishing, and Broadman & Holman, to name a few. She also brings her own unique blend of Southern charm and witty prose to the more than 350,000 award-winning novels and novellas currently in print. Her novels have been nominated for American Christian Fiction Writers Book of the Year in 2002, 2003, 2004, and 2006; and 2007 will see the release of her 25th book. Kathleen is a tenth-generation Texan and a mother of three grown sons and a teenage daughter. She is a graduate of Texas A&M University. Kathleen is a former treasurer for the American Christian Fiction Writers, and is a member of the Author’s Guild, Inspirational Writers Alive, Words for the Journey Christian Writers Guild, and the Fellowship of Christian Authors. In addition, she is a sought-after speaker, and her kids think she’s a pretty cool mom, too…most of the time, anyway.
The first book in this series is Beloved Castaway.
ABOUT THE BOOK
In this sequel to Beloved Castaway, Emilie Gayarre is learning to accept her mixed race heritage while finding fulfillment in teaching children of the key. There is no denying the attraction between Emilie and the handsome young naval commander, Caleb Spencer, who is shadowed by his own flock of secrets. But if her heritage is found out, even greater things than his career are at risk. Enjoy this historical romance full of risk and redemption. If you would like to read the first chapter of Beloved Captive, go HERE.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)