Showing posts with label Young Adult. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Young Adult. Show all posts

Friday, November 15, 2013

Keeper of Reign by Emma Right

When his grandparents disappear, the world changes for young Jules. He's an Elfie, and an heir to a Keeper, each of whom looks after one of the King's books. He's the oldest of five, an unusual number for Elfies. But when even more strange happenings take place, Jules sets out, with friends and siblings in tow, to save the kingdom...if he doesn't get caught by Lord Gehzroulle and his toadies first...

Emma Right originally wrote these stories to her five home-schooled children. For great family reading that's fun, packed truths of basic Christianity and action, and yet isn't too-scary for the "little ones", read this. The stories cover such subjects as betrayal, seeking truth and forgiveness. Well written to hold the attention of the big people and the little people. A good family read-aloud.



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

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



Today's Wild Card author is:


and the book:

 Emma Rightt an imprint of Telemachus Press (May 19, 2013)

***Special thanks to Emma Right for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Emma Right is a happy wife and homeschool mother of five living in the Pacific West Coast of the USA. Besides running a busy home, and looking after their five pets, which includes two cats, two bunnies and a Long-haired dachshund, she also writes stories for her children. She loves the Lord and His Word deeply, and when she doesn't have her nose in a book, she is telling her kids to get theirs in one.

Right worked as a copywriter for two major advertising agencies and won several awards, including the prestigious Clio Award for her ads, before she settled down to have children.

Visit Emma Right at her home site and blog for tips and ideas about books, homeschooling, bible devotions, and author helps of various sorts: http://www.emmaright.com

and follow her on facebook emma.right.author and "like" her fan page at http://www.facebook.com/keeperofreign


SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Books written in blood. Most are lost, their Keepers with them. A curse that befell a people. A Kingdom with no King. Life couldn’t get more harrowing for the Elfies, a blend of Elves and Fairies. Or for sixteen-year-old Jules Blaze. Or could it?

For Jules, the heir of a Keeper, no less, suspects his family hides a forgotten secret. It was bad enough that his people, the Elfies of Reign, triggered a curse which reduced the entire inhabitants to a mere inch centuries ago. All because of one Keeper who failed his purpose. Even the King’s Ancient Books, did not help ward off that anathema.

Now, Gehzurolle, the evil lord, and his armies of Scorpents, seem bent on destroying Jules and his family. Why? Gehzurolle’s agents hunt for Jules as he journeys into enemy land to find the truth. Truth that could save him and his family, and possibly even reverse the age-long curse. Provided Jules doesn't get himself killed first.



Product Details:
List Price: $17.99
Paperback: 340 pages
Publisher: Emma Rightt an imprint of Telemachus Press (May 19, 2013)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1939337690
ISBN-13: 978-1939337696


AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Prologue: Beginning





“Sire, you’re running out of blood.” Eleazer’s voice quivered as he addressed the only other occupant in the royal chamber. He tried to veer his eyes from the King’s bruised arm but could not pull his gaze away.
The young King grunted a response, his attention focused on the red words whispering out of his plumed pen.
Glancing at his cupbearer, he said, “I am aware, Eleazer.” His velvet lapels caught the golden gleam flickering from the lanterns hung on the columns and gave it a rich burgundy sheen.
“Perhaps the wine will help?” Eleazer poured scarlet juice into a goblet and held the fluted stem out, his eyes drawn to the highness’ pale wrist. His master’s pallid face sent a shiver up his spine, and a knot of worry formed above Eleazer’s brows. Palm clammy, he set the goblet next to his master’s arm.
The room was dim despite the golden sparkle of the dragonfly lanterns hooked to the four columns of alabaster that flanked the two draped windows. Books, their golden spines atop each other, were stacked on the mahogany table. Copper wires forming two “X”s upon each spine bound the leaves of the magnificent Books.
“The new star,” the King said, “will be birthed tomorrow, so I must finish writing the Sacred Tomes.” He paused and shot Eleazer a smile. “Why don’t you bind this remaining stack? You can include this end page I am finishing later.” He waited for Eleazer to reply, but the servant only stared at the floor. “My instructions are in the Master Books, but you must inform the others to keep the matter to yourselves.”
“I know— Gehzurolle must not find out.”
“More importantly, do not let him deceive you.”
“I promise.”
“You are a most faithful servant—friend, Eleazer. Thank you.”
“It has been my honor, Your Highness. I should thank you.” Eleazer wanted to say more but his throat strangled the words. He swallowed hard a few times and bowed, as a sigh slipped from his lips.
“Do you comprehend my wishes?” The King’s eyes rested on Eleazer’s face.
“Completely.” Eleazer dared not add anything further lest his voice break entirely. His hands busied with the binding of the closing chapters, whilst his master penned the final paragraphs.
All those books yet not a single ink pot on that writing desk, or, on any other furniture in that library. Too soon Eleazer would have to bid his master adieu.  What if he failed the King?
“Master, I wish you didn’t have to d—”
“Don’t start this again, Eleazer — no other way exists. You must trust me. If all of you heed the Words, you will end up better off.” Without looking up, the King said, “Once you’ve completed the binding you must leave me alone. I am almost finished.”
Afraid he might forget the Majesty’s visage, Eleazer’s eyes flitted to the King’s face and drank in the dark brows, the high cheekbones, the soft lips. He opened his mouth to say something, but only shook his head, bowed a fraction, and exited through the double doors.
Alone in the chamber, the King pierced his bruised vein a last time and completed the closing paragraph.


1. ONE NIGHT





The last thing Jules Blaze thought of before he closed his eyes was how he, how anyone, could undo the curse his people were under. He was in the middle of a dream, a nightmare as far as he was concerned, begging Grandpa Leroy and Grandma Bonnie not to leave, when someone banged on their front door, shaking their entire treehouse.
Who’d be crazy enough to disturb them at this hour? He sat up on his bed and cocked his head. His mother’s soft tread tap-tapped on the wood floor of their treehouse.
“Who’s there?” her muffled voice asked, harsh and whispery from sleep.
The banging stopped.
“Erin, open up.” Mr. Saul’s voice, gruff and loud, jolted the last fog of sleepiness from Jules. He peered over at his brother sleeping noiselessly in the bunk below him, and quietly slipped down the ladder. On tip toe he sneaked to the trap door opening that led down to the living room where Mr. Saul stood dripping from the rain.
“Is everything okay?” Erin said.
“Would I visit now if it were?” Saul said. Then in a gentler voice he added, “I’m sorry. Please, let’s take a seat, Erin.” He nodded at Jules who’d slipped down the pull down ladder to join them. “Jules.”
Jules thought about his father at the war front and swallowed a lump in his throat. Was this why Dad hadn’t sent any word to them for the last months? Because he couldn’t?
Saul held Erin by the arm. He led her to the dining room chairs behind the sofa covered with knitted shawls and afghan throws.
Jules trudged to the window and peered at the branches outside. The arm of the oak tree grew so thick they could easily live in it, although getting up there could be a problem, especially since he was afraid of heights. These days they didn’t even live in stone houses, or even wooden ones, unless living under a tree counted as a wooden home. Elfies lived in trees, or burrowed under rocks, in the forest of Reign.
“Take a seat, Jules.” Mr. Saul locked eyes on him for an instant. “I just received word from the river front patrol—Leroy and Bonnie’s boat capsized in the storm. They’re searching for the bodies, but it doesn’t look good.”
Erin let out a gasp and brought a fist to her mouth. “No!”
“Boat? How can they be sure it was them?” Jules leaned forward in his chair.
“Some of their belongings floated to shore, and I identified the wreck—the pieces drifted to the bank.”
Erin looked at him blankly.
Saul said, again, “The boat…was a wreck.”
“Boat?” Erin said.
“I’d loaned it to them.”
“Why?”
Saul looked at the ceiling. “They’d wanted to get across to Handover.”
“Handover? That’s preposterous. After telling us never to cross the river and saying how dangerous Handover is?” Erin’s voice sounded angry amidst her sobs.
Saul pushed his chair back and stood. He reached into the cloak of his pocket, brought out a few items and laid them on the dining table. “Some things to remember your folks by.” And with that he turned and stalked back out into the dripping night.
Jules stared at his grandpa’s pocket watch, the green felt hat the old man always wore, especially on damp days, and his grandma’s silk scarf she donned when the wind ruffled her snowy white hair. Erin sobbed more violently, and Jules stood behind his mother’s back, leaned over and hugged her trembling shoulders.

Friday, March 29, 2013

What Happens When Young Women Say Yes to God by Lysa and Hope TerKeurst

I'm always interested to read books geared toward young women and though some are repetitive, monotonous or miss the mark all together occasionally I come across a gem and, I believe, you can always pick up something of value. So it was with eager excitement that I started in on What Happens When Young Women Say Yes to God.

Throughout the entire book there is one basic theme: God has and extraordinary story for the life of every young woman. Your Extraordinary Story (Y.E.S.). Most everyone desires to break out of their ordinary life to a deeper, realer, more joyful life. The author suggests that if young women could experience this sort of life if they were to 1.) learn to discern God's voice and 2.) choose to say yes to His leading and then proceeds to provide feasible ways for the reader to implement these two practices.

Lysa TerKurst writes in an easy to read and understand manner. Her personal stories and those of her daughter and coauthor, Hope TerKurst, helps the reader to relate to the author and provide practical examples At the end of each chapter you will find both study questions, suggested journal entries, prayers and practical applications.

Engaging and thought provoking, What Happens When Young Women Say Yes to God is an inspiring and helpful book for both young and mature women alike. Enjoy the first chapter provided by FIRST Wild Card Tours.
_________________________

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

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



Today's Wild Card authors are:


and the book:

Harvest House Publishers (March 1, 2013)

***Special thanks to Ginger Chen for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHORS:

Lysa TerKeurst is a New York Times bestselling author and a national speaker who helps women live an adventure of faith. She is the president of Proverbs 31 Ministries and an author of 15 books, including Unglued, Made to Crave, and What Happens When Women Say Yes to God. Her daily online devotional encourages more than 600,000 women, and her remarkable life story has captivated national audiences on Oprah and Good Morning America. She lives in North Carolina with her husband and five children.

Hope TerKeurst finds fulfillment in serving through missions trips to
places like Ethiopia and Nicaragua. During a trip to Nicaragua, Hope led a team that provided shoes for children to enable them to go to school. When she is at home, Hope spends time with her family and friends. She has a passion for building relationships with others and loves to travel. She is currently a college student in North Carolina.

Visit the authors'  website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Bestselling author Lysa TerKeurst invites young women on the unforgettable adventure of saying yes to God as she shares real-life illustrations, biblical guidance, humor, and inspiring special sections: “Living Y.E.S.” (Your Extraordinary Story); “YES in Action” stories from Lysa’s teen daughter, Hope, about faith in motion; chapter Bible study questions.




Product Details:
List Price: $11.99
Paperback: 192 pages
Publisher: Harvest House Publishers (March 1, 2013)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0736954554
ISBN-13: 978-0736954556



AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:


As You Set Out on Your
Yes Journey

We are about to discover how God’s love shapes our hearts and our individual paths of purpose. It’s an amazing journey. We won’t want to miss any of the messages He has for us. In this book you will discover the following features. Each is created to make the truths and wonders of faith more three-dimensional in your life.



Yes Factor

The gifts of the yes journey are plentiful. The Yes Factors highlight some of the most amazing treasures you’ll discover along the way. They are ready to tweet so you can share with your friends, classmates, and online communities to encourage them.



You’re Invited

Each chapter has a special invitation to say yes to God in a new way. Take time with these and pray about how you’ll respond to the call to embrace God’s best.



God’s Word for You

God speaks to us through the Bible. Scripture is not a gathering of material meant for people ages ago. It was written for you. This feature includes questions for group or personal study, reflection points, and verse explorations to get God’s Word from the page to your heart.

Living Y.E.S. (Your Extraordinary Story)

Only you can live your extraordinary story. No one else is designed by God to live this moment and all of your tomorrows. These insights and journal questions will help you understand the uniqueness, incredible value, and power of having a yes heart for God.



Yes in Action: A Note from Hope’s Yes Journey

My teenage daughter Hope shares four personal accounts of listening to God and following His lead. My prayer is that these glimpses of another young woman facing the difficulties and delights of obedience will encourage you to put your yes into action daily.



My Yes Journey Notes

At the back of this book are several note pages so you have a convenient place to write down the ideas, challenges, special verses, prayer needs, and discoveries you experience while starting your yes journey.







Ready for Something Better

Most of us long for something better. Different. Special.

Extraordinary.

We desire something more meaningful than day-to-day survival.

And the amazing thing is that even before we can name this desire, God has placed it within us and is drawing us closer to Him through that desire. Our hunger to be special and to do special things is our spiritual hunger to have an extraordinary relationship with God.

But how do we leave normal behind and head toward extraordinary?

We start a journey! It’s the amazing, transforming, anything-but-normal journey you’ll begin the day you say yes to God and to the amazing faith life He has planned for you.



Let’s begin at the starting place—right here, right now. Imagine with me that this is your day.

Beep. Beep. The notification of a text message wakes you up before your alarm. It’s a friend reminding you to bring money for the school fund-raiser and asking if you will make signs during lunch. As you sneak into the kitchen hoping to grab a bagel and glass of cranberry juice without being spoken to, your parents greet you with good-mornings and then insist you walk the dog before school.

You get to school with only a second to wave to friends. You settle into the assigned seat of the first class and do a mental happy dance because you finished your project early. The celebration is squelched because the teacher asks you to help a student who doesn’t understand yesterday’s assignment.

During lunch you finally get a chance to catch up with your best friend, but she still wants to talk through every event leading to her breakup with her boyfriend—five months ago. You listen for a while and pat her on the back for consolation, but you’re thinking, At least you had a boyfriend. My parents won’t even let me date.

The list goes on, right? A regular, ordinary day includes a lot of requests from a lot of people in your life. There are expectations. And even when you know the right thing to do, you don’t have much joy when you follow through. What’s the point? you think. It’s all so ordinary and leading nowhere.

Even if people want good things from you and of you, it’s tempting to say no. Nope. Uh-uh. No, thank you. I helped yesterday. Ask so-and-so. The dog ate my homework and my backpack and my computer.

There are lots of ways to say no.



When God asks you to do something, it can spark the desire to act as if you didn’t hear Him. It’s tempting to rattle off your memorized top five excuses for getting out of something that might be challenging, humbling, or out of your comfort zone.

In fact, sometimes God asks us to do things that seem a bit crazy at the time. We can’t see the big picture the way He does. We can’t imagine how our one yes during an ordinary day can become something extraordinary when He uses it for His purposes.

But, you see, this is where we get confused. When we say yes to God, our days are no longer ordinary or normal. In fact, there is no such thing as a typical day. Once you make the leap of faith to say yes to God, you will discover the power that answer holds in your relationship with Him, others, and yourself. There’s nothing ordinary about what’s ahead for you. Are you nervous? Are you looking around you and thinking, Maybe normal is okay? What is God going to ask of me when I say yes?

Believe me, I understand this as well as anyone. I can be stubborn. I can be resistant to being told what to do. And I’ve had plenty of times when I wanted to do anything but what God was asking me to do. In fact, I was someone who never left home without having my top five excuses list handy. This was me…that is, until God opened my eyes to the incredible, blow-my-socks-off power of saying yes to Him.

It all started the day He told me to give away my Bible.



My ministry as a writer and a speaker gives me the chance to visit churches, women’s groups, and conferences. On this particular day, I was heading home after a long schedule of speaking and I was wiped out. All I wanted was to get to my assigned seat on the plane and settle in for a nap. Imagine my absolute delight at being the only person seated in my row. I was just about to close my eyes when two last-minute passengers made their way to my row and took their seats.

Reluctantly, I decided to skip my nap. The last thing I wanted was to fall asleep and snore, drool, or, worse yet, wake up with my head resting on the guy’s shoulder beside me. I did not need another most embarrassing moment, so I pulled a manuscript out of my bag and started reading.

“What are you working on?” the guy asked. I told him I was a Christian writer. He smiled and said he thought God was a very interesting topic. I agreed and asked him a few questions about his beliefs. Before long I found myself reaching into my bag and pulling out my Bible, walking him through some key verses that dealt with the issues he was facing. He kept asking questions, and I kept praying God would give me answers.

All of a sudden I felt God tugging at my heart to give this man my Bible. Now, this was not just any Bible. This was my everyday, highlighted, underlined, written in, and tearstained Bible. I hesitated, but God’s message was clear. I was to give away my Bible.

I pulled out old church bulletins and other papers I had tucked inside the covers, took a deep breath, sighed, and placed it in the man’s hands. “I’d like for you to have my Bible,” I said.

Astonished, he started to hand it back to me, saying he couldn’t possibly accept such a gift. “God told me to give it to you,”  I insisted. “Sometimes the God of the universe pauses in the midst of all His creation to touch the heart of one person. Today, He paused for you.”

The man took my Bible and made two promises. First, he said he would read it, and, second, someday he would pass it on, doing for someone else what I’d done for him.

Before I knew it, the plane landed and we were saying our goodbyes. As I stepped into the aisle preparing to disembark, the women on the other side of the businessman reached out and grabbed my arm. She’d been staring out the window the entire time we were flying, and I thought she’d been ignoring us. But her tearstained face told a different story. In a tone so hushed I could barely hear her, she whispered, “Thank you. What you shared today has changed my life.” I put my hand on hers and whispered back, “You’re welcome.” Then a knot caught in my throat as tears welled up in my eyes. I didn’t have another Bible to give away, so I gave her one of my books and hugged her goodbye. It has been said that we are to tell the whole world about Jesus, using words only if necessary. I saw this powerful truth come to life. Though I never spoke to this lady about Jesus, she saw Him through my obedience. How humbling. How profound.

As I got off the plane that day, I could barely hold back my tears. Three people’s hearts were radically changed. I believe the businessman came to know Jesus as his Lord and Savior. I believe the same is true for the lady. But my heart was changed in a dramatic way as well. I was overjoyed at what God had done, but I was also brokenhearted by the flood of thoughts that came to mind recounting times I’d told God no. How tragic to miss His divine appointments.





Yes Factor

Open your heart to God’s love. Open your life to His calling. Open your mouth to praise Him.







I kept wondering, How many times have I told You no, God? How many times have I walked right past an extraordinary moment You had shaped for me because I was too tired, too insecure, too caught up in drama, or too selfish? How often do I miss out on experiencing You? I lifted up my heart to the Lord and whispered, “Please forgive me for all those noes. Right now I say yes, Lord. I say yes to You before I even know what You might ask me to do. I simply want You to see a yes-heart in me.”

Several minutes after exiting the plane, I was heading toward my connecting gate when I spotted the businessman again. He stopped me to tell me he’d been praying and thanking God for what happened on the plane. We swapped business cards, and, though we lived several states apart, I knew we’d stay in touch.

About a month later he called to tell me his life had totally changed. He’d taken a week off from work to read the Bible, and he’d already shared his testimony with numerous people. God was definitely pursuing this man in a serious way! When I asked him what his favorite verse was, he said it was Proverbs 3:5-6: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.” I thought to myself, Wow! Look at how God has already answered that for my new friend.

He also told me that after reading the Bible he knew he needed to get involved in a church, so he’d decided to visit a large church in his town. On his way there he passed another church, and a strong feeling came over him to turn his car around and go back. So he did. When he got to his seat in the sanctuary, he opened up his bulletin and gasped. Inside the bulletin he saw an announcement that I was to be the speaker at an upcoming women’s conference. He said he felt as though, once again, God was confirming His active presence.

That day on the plane, when God impressed on my heart to give this man my Bible, I did not know what would happen. This man might have thrown my Bible into the nearest airport trash can for all I knew. Normally, I would’ve come up with a hundred reasons not to give my Bible away, but that day something changed in me. That day, for the first time, I truly heard the call of a woman who says yes to God: “Live your extraordinary story of faith.”

This journey we are taking together is life changing.

1

An Extraordinary Life Awaits

The amazing adventure of living your life and faith in extraordinary ways is up ahead. Here is the most wonderful truth: God designed it for you. And this journey cannot be lived out by anyone else. God made you as a special, nobody-else-like-you young woman, and He has a plan for your life. Do you feel it? Do you believe it? When you get up in the morning, do you think about how your day can only be lived out by the incredible you? Your family knows you and your quirky habits, and your friends share common interests, but nobody else is taking your steps through your day.

The extraordinary faith journey begins the moment you say yes to God and yes to the story He is creating through your heart, abilities, dreams, and faithfulness. It’s not just a special story—it’s an extraordinary one you and God experience together.

When we feel a tug on our heart and a stirring in our soul for more, we are often afraid to venture past our comfort zone. Outside our comfort zone, however, is where we experience the true awesomeness of God. But you have to take the plunge. How ready are you?

Notice that I didn’t ask “How perfect are you?” Perfection is highly overrated. I think at this point it is important for me to paint an accurate picture of what my life looks like before you imagine me as this super calm, amazingly organized and disciplined person who spends hours on her knees in prayer. Truth? My to-do list rarely gets accomplished. My emotions have been known to run wild, and my patience can run thin. I get pushed to the limit by everyday aggravations, such as a summer’s worth of pictures getting erased from my digital camera. Or a dog who runs away at the most inconvenient times. And I’ve had times when I step outside my comfort zone and fear causes me to second-guess myself and God’s plan.

Can you relate? Great! No matter what your life is like, you’re a young woman made to say yes to God. Even if you’re juggling all the craziness life can throw your way, when you simply whisper yes, you are equipped to start your extraordinary story of following God. “Yes, Lord. I want Your patience to override my desire to fly off the handle.” “Yes, Lord. I want Your strength to keep my emotions in check when my family and friends drive me nuts.” “Yes, Lord. I want Your courage to accept challenges that intimidate me.” “Yes, Lord. I want to see my great value as Your daughter so I don’t worry about what other people think.”

You don’t need perfect circumstances to say yes to God. You don’t need the perfect religious attitude or all the answers to religious questions. You simply have to give to God all of the thoughts, worries, people, drama, and struggles that occupy your attention and your heart. You simply have to speak the answer God is longing to hear spill from your lips. “Yes, God.”

The Daily Yes Prayer
Each day when I wake up, I pray a very simple prayer before my feet even hit the floor. I encourage you to write your own or use this prayer so you can experience your extraordinary God in extraordinary ways.

God, I want to see You.

God, I want to hear You.

God, I want to know You.

God, I want to follow hard after You.

And even before I know what I will face today, I say yes to You.

This simple act of surrender each morning will prepare your eyes to see Him, your ears to hear Him, your mind to perceive Him, and your heart to receive Him. This is how to live expecting to experience God.

You see, we have become so familiar with God and yet still so unaware of Him. We turn the mysterious into something ordinary, even boring. We construct careful reasons for our rules and sensible whys for our behavior. All the while our soul is longing for a richer experience—one that allows us to escape the limits of sight, sound, touch, taste, and smell and journey to a place of wild, wonder, and passion.

Young women who say yes to God will see life like few others.

And you will be drawn in and embraced by a love like no other. You don’t have to wait until the next time you’re in church to experience God because you can sense God’s presence all around you, all through your day. Instead of going through the motions of life, you’ll pursue the adventure of the moment-by-moment divine story and lessons God is unfolding.

When you say yes, you can expect to see God, to hear from Him, and to be absolutely filled by His peace and joy.

The Holy and the Ordinary
Embracing a holy God in the middle of life’s everyday activities will change your life. God’s surprises of good and wondrous experiences will take your breath away, but you might not always feel happy about the changes. I can’t let you think that being a young woman who says yes to God means everything is always easy. There will be times when you experience the sting of heartache, frustration, uncertainty, failure, and loss, but now there will be new ways of dealing with those hard times. A holy way.

I had one of those experiences recently. I simply wanted to throw my hands in the air, throw my computer out the window, and cry out to God, “You have hurt my feelings, and I’m just a little unnerved and upset!”

I was at a friend’s lake house to devote three days to a writing project. After the first night of working hard, I had gone to bed excited about all I’d accomplished. I awakened the next morning ready to have the same kind of success. But as I opened up my docu-ment folder with great anticipation, I saw…nothing. Nothing! The project was nowhere to be found.

Refusing to panic, I asked for my friends’ help. After two hours of searching, one of my friends gently looked at me and verbalized the truth we’d all come to know. “It’s gone, Lysa. You are going to have to start over.”

What!

Wait a minute, I thought. I have said yes to God today and had a great quiet time. I just know He can and will help me find this. But for whatever reason, my document was gone and God had chosen not to bring it back. Tears filled my eyes as bitterness started to creep in my heart. Why would He allow this? My friend could sense my despair and gently replied, “Lysa, recently when something like this happened to me, someone told me to look at my loss as a sacrifice of praise to God. It is so hard in today’s abundance to give God a true sacrifice, but losing two thousand words and a whole day’s work would qualify. Give this to Him without feeling bitter.”

I resisted slapping my well-meaning friend as she then broke into singing praise songs. By the second stanza, I actually found myself joining in with a lighter heart and a resilient spirit.

Have you ever lost something that had required great effort and care on your part? Sometimes it isn’t a school project or a writing assignment we’ve invested in; rather, it’s a relationship. If you’ve ever said goodbye to a friend because of a move or because you find yourself taking a different path, you’ve experienced what felt like an unfair loss of time, effort, and heart. The loss of “what could’ve been”  can be very disappointing. When you care about anything, it makes you more vulnerable. The risk is higher because more of your heart and soul is vested in the outcome. This is exactly why these times can be lifted up as a praise offering.



Yes Factor

Saying yes to God isn’t about perfect performance, but rather perfect surrender to Him.



Being a young woman who says yes to God is about trusting Him even when you can’t understand why He requires some of the things He does. It also means that once you’ve said yes to God, you refuse to turn back, even when things get hard.

This kind of obedience invites you to embrace a bigger vision for your life. When you look at your everyday circumstances with God’s perspective, everything changes. You realize that He uses each circumstance, each person who crosses your path, and each encounter you have with Him as a divine appointment. Each day counts, and every action and reaction matters. God absolutely loves to take ordinary people and do extraordinary things in them, through them, and with them.

It’s a Party
Imagine that you’ve planned a wonderful surprise party for your best friend. The guests have all arrived. You’ve loaded the deco--rated dining room table with her favorite junk food and healthy preferences. Everything is ready for the guest of honor. You can barely wait for the big moment of “Surprise!” because you know your friend will feel so loved and celebrated.

Finally, the time has come. And gone. Your friend is late. Your other friends are whispering in the darkened living room and trying unsuccessfully to hold back waves of laughter. Suddenly, your cell phone rings. Your friend’s image appears on the screen.  “Shhh!” you say to the others just before answering the call.

“Hey, where are you?” you ask casually.

Instead of saying she’s on her way, your friend says she’s too tired to come over and has decided to watch the last two episodes of her favorite show online. She’s already in her pajamas and will check out whatever you wanted to show her tomorrow. You try to convince her that tonight is so much better and you really want to share something with her. But with a friendly “See you tomorrow, I promise,” she hangs up.

But by tomorrow the guests will be gone, the leftover food will be stored away, and the party that never started will be over.

How sad for the guest of honor, who missed her own surprise party! And how disappointing for you, the party planner who orchestrated the event with the hope of showing a friend how much she is loved.

God must feel the same way when we miss the “surprise parties”  that await us each day. These are the divine appointments sprinkled throughout our day for us to experience when we pay attention to God’s leading. He must be so disappointed when we don’t hear or don’t listen to Him redirecting us to hang up the phone and show up at the event He has planned with great care. It must break His heart when we brush aside something that not only would make us feel special and noticed by God, but also would allow us to join Him in making life a little sweeter for others.

Which Invitation Will You Accept?
How many times have you missed your own surprise party?

God reveals Himself and His activity to all of us, but it takes a desire for the extraordinary to embrace these encounters because they can cause extreme changes in our plans, our perspectives, and our passions. I don’t know about you, but I’m not a huge fan of change.

Yet, when we protect ourselves from change, we’re saying no to God and yes to a life that leaves us unmotivated and directionless. Let’s pause for a second and give that another look. You are accepting an invitation at any given moment, but are you saying yes to whims, desires, and random paths? Or are you accepting God’s invitation to your purposed, powerful faith story?

I can think of several times when I let fear override my faith. I said yes to my insecurities and worries instead of God’s strength and certainty. Has this happened to you? Maybe you felt God leading you to say yes to Him, yet you didn’t go out for a play, you held back from introducing yourself to a new girl at school, or you resisted telling a guy you like about your faith. Every day has chances like these to step forward in God’s leading, but we have to be prepared and ready to notice these opportunities from Him. When we are prepared and we do step out in faith, He will bless our yes!

You’re Invited…
to Attend God’s Surprise Party for You

WHAT:

The party you don’t want to miss! This is a gathering of God’s best for you…love, grace, hope, promises, and the joy of His wonder and will. All the great surprises of faith.

WHEN:

This moment. Forget the excuses. Get ready for something extraordinary.

WHERE:

On the other side of the door. Don’t hesitate. Open the door. God and the incredible surprises of the yes journey are waiting for you.

WHAT TO BRING:

Everything is provided…so leave behind all that is ordinary. You’ll want to be able to receive the extraordinary gifts God has chosen just for you.



How to Make HIStory
I love the word “history” because when we break it down we see that it means “His story.” Your personal history might have times of pain or trouble. There might be moments of sadness or loneliness. And your past might be littered with some mistakes, but God is a God of transformation. He uses each and every part of your history and present to make an extraordinary new story.

As I’ve spoken to a lot of young women from around the country, I’ve been saddened to discover how many miss out on the most exciting part of being a Christian—experiencing God and experiencing their extraordinary story through Him. This is the great gift of being a Christian. The gift isn’t about perfection or becoming the most popular person in school because you are blessed. The gift is being able to live out your extraordinary story with and through God’s amazing love. It’s incredible.

Those who say they want more in their Christian life are often looking outside of their personal relationship with God for the secret. They want their church, their pastor, or someone or something else to be the missing piece. These supports can make your faith stronger, but it is your one-on-one experience with God that changes everything.

You and I are on our way to recognizing and experiencing what that “more” can look like. It’s a relationship with God that allows us to

know His voice
live in expectation of His activity
embrace a life totally sold out for Him

I suspect you desire such closeness with God. This fulfillment of this desire is real and amazing. And this incredible adventure starts with the wild willingness to say yes.

In today’s world, it is radical to obey God’s commands, listen to the Holy Spirit’s convictions, and walk in Jesus’ character. And we’ll experience the amazing blessings God has in store for us when we speak that big, freeing “Yes, Lord.” This response to God’s call, His requests, and His hope for us will lead to a great, unforgettable faith story.

Don’t stumble over the fear you won’t be perfect and you’ll likely mess up. Saying yes to God isn’t about perfect performance, but rather perfect surrender to the Lord day by day. It’s about experiencing the full blessing of God by giving your full attention to God when He asks you to trust Him. It’s having the overwhelming desire to walk in the center of His will at every moment. The life of yes happens when you hear God, feel His nudges, participate in His activity, and experience His blessings in ways few people ever do.

The God of the universe wants to use you in great ways. Are you ready?

There is only one requirement for this adventure. We have to set our rules and agendas aside—our dos and don’ts—and follow God’s command. His one requirement is so simple and yet so profound: Say yes to Me. That’s it. That is the entire Bible, Old Testament and New, hundreds of pages, thousands of verses, all wrapped up in those four words.

God’s Word for You

Psalm 19:7-10 says,

The revelation of God is whole and pulls our lives together. The signposts of God are clear and point out the right road. The life-maps of God are right, showing the way to joy. The directions of God are plain and easy on the eyes. God’s reputation is twenty-four-carat gold, with a lifetime guarantee. The decisions of God are accurate down to the nth degree. God’s Word is better than a diamond, better than a diamond set between emeralds. You’ll like it better than strawberries in spring, better than red, ripe strawberries (msg).

What does this passage tell you about God’s nature?

Which of these promises are ones you really needed to hear right now? Why?

Read Deuteronomy 6:5. What might loving God with your heart, soul, and strength look like in your daily life?



Psalm 16:7-9 says,

I will bless the Lord who guides me; even at night my heart instructs me. I know the Lord is always with me. I will not be shaken, for he is right beside me. No wonder my heart is glad, and I rejoice. My body rests in safety.

Describe how these verses ease your worries or concerns.

Living Y.E.S. (Your Extraordinary Story)

Have you ever felt God leading you to do something? How did you respond?

What holds you back from going deeper in your relationship with God? Time? Intimidation? Doubt about the Bible’s relevance to life? Worry about what others will say? Fear that God will let you down like people have? Write down which of these or other barriers come between you and an extraordinary faith right now.

How might God’s love counter these obstacles?

Why are you ready now to experience God’s great surprises for you?

In this chapter we read, “Being a young woman who says yes to God is about trusting Him even when you can’t understand why He requires some of the things He does. It also means that once you’ve said yes to God, you refuse to turn back, even when things get hard.”

List two ways you want to trust God by saying yes to Him this week.

1.

2.

What title would you give your extraordinary story?

Yes Prayer

Your extraordinary story unfolds each time you listen to God and follow His leading. Here is a prayer to lead you to each of God’s sweet surprises for you.

Dear God, I am putting away all my excuses so I can fully celebrate who You are and who I am in You. Thank You for adopting me as Your child and loving me unconditionally. I want to grow closer to You as I trust You more completely. I know You will ask me to grow and to move outside of my comfort zone, but with Your strength and help, I’m ready to experience my extraordinary story. I say yes to You with great joy. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

The Pursuit of a King by Candace Christine Little

Review by Kaitlin

Plot: Artemerio and Barto, brother from the country of Windsal, are itching to be adventurers and claim unknown lands in the name of King Syroton and his Queen Athalia. But the King instead sends them on a quest to find the answer to a riddle...an answer that will change them and their destinies. The brothers find themselves in many interesting and sometimes dangerous circumstances as the deceiver, Dunley, attenpts to thwart their every attempt at truth.

Moral Content: Barto and Artemerio learn many lessons along their pursuit, one being the purpose of humility, and the value of wisdom. They meet with many persons named for and that portray character traits (ie: Mercy, Justice, Wit, etc.)

Spiritual Content: Not overly spiritual, but teaches beautiful gems of theology clearly, yet keep the story-line free of rebuttals and essays. Very well done.

Violence: A cliff is blown up, but no one is injured. Some people are held at sword/arrow point, but no deaths. One attempt is made to poison someone.

Conclusion: This story was fun, light, full of lovely truths and a perfect book for teaching kids of the fruit of the spirit. As a young adult, I enjoyed this book as much as my much younger siblings would. I plan to read this aloud next time I babysit.  Good story, well written, nice clean ending. Great family read.

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

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



Today's Wild Card author is:


and the book:

CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform (October 7, 2012)

***Special thanks to Candace Little for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Candace Christine Little has a B.A. from Dallas Christian College and a J.D. from Regent University School of Law, and she has completed a writing course offered by the Institute of Children’s Literature. She has written four novels: The Pursuit of a King (A Tale of Wisdom), The Heart of a King (A Tale of Faith), The Honor of a King (A Tale of Mercy), and The Son of a King (A Tale of Love). Candace believes in the power of stories to nourish, to teach, and to inspire, and she is passionately committed to happy endings.

Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

A dream. A king. A riddle. A map. A journey. A dungeon (or two). A decision. A sacrifice. A sword. A throne. The Pursuit of a King (A Tale of Wisdom) by Candace Christine Little recounts the adventures of Artemerio and Barto as they cross deserts, climb canyon walls, face the evil Dunley, rescue Lady Wisdom, save cities from certain destruction (using only cake!)—and discover their destinies.


Product Details:
List Price: $12.00
Paperback: 186 pages
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform (October 7, 2012)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1479392480
ISBN-13: 978-1479392483



AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:


Chapter 1:  Summoned by the King



“How did we get here?” I asked in awe as I walked with my brother, Artemerio, through the halls of the palace of the king of Windsal.

“We walked,” said Artemerio.

“I suppose I should have known better than to expect a serious answer from you. You know what I mean. To think of it—we were summoned by the king to present our request. You must admit, if we get no farther than this palace, we will have lived what some have only dreamed.”

“You think too small, Barto. We may go down in history as the mightiest of men, and we may see palaces greater by far than—”

The echoes of our footsteps through the marble-floored hallways slowed. Confronted by the greatness of what were merely the doors of the throne room, Artemerio’s words sounded vain and absurd.

Even he must have felt it. He stared at the door for a long moment, a hint of nervousness in his expression. But then he lifted his chin and straightened to his full height. His self-assured smile returned. “Here we go.” He took hold of the massive door before him and led the way in to see the king.

I swallowed hard and followed.

I cannot adequately describe the splendor of that room—the fine marble, the exquisite touches of gold and jewels, the ornate thrones, the gleaming tapestries, the stately columns. And crowning it all were the king and queen, noble and glorious. Though they had seen many, many years, those years had enhanced rather than diminished their appearances. The beauty and elegance of Queen Athalia were beyond compare. So imposing were King Syroton’s stature and deportment that I feared for any man who might face him in battle.

But the splendor was not limited to what was visible. Magnificence pervaded the air itself with a spectacular, inspiriting weight: the weight of goodness, of wisdom, of courage—of virtues so solid and real that they seemed not only tangible but transferable, like a richly scented oil that leaves traces of its fragrance on those who encounter it.

And I have no doubt Artemerio sensed it, too. When he offered the traditional courteous phrases due a king, his voice was shaky. Gone was the insincere ease with which he typically addressed those in authority. But even humbled, he was eloquent and bold.

I mumbled my greeting and made my bow, and then, with the formalities out of the way, Artemerio began to present our request.

“Good king,” said Artemerio, “it has been our desire for some time to advance the cause of Windsal—to bring her greater honor, to improve her economy, and to multiply her lands. This can best be done through exploration and conquest. We appeal to you for the right to sail in the name of Windsal to discover for her what will be hers and hers alone, waiving all rights to establish our own lands. We appeal to you, for the love of Windsal, the right to leave her—”

A jester nimbly tumbled into the room, interrupting Artemerio’s speech. “And in this way to improve her? Hah! I am sure she will improve the moment you set sail and leave her shores!” The jester brushed away a nonexistent speck of dust on his sleeve, adjusted the bells on his hat, and sat on an unimpressive wooden stool beside the king.

Artemerio’s jaw tightened. He clenched his fists and pursed his lips. I thought—and desperately hoped—he might dismiss the provocation. But then his nostrils flared, and he breathed in sharply.

“Sail with me, then, and let us triple her improvement. Better yet, never return, and she shall stand in a glory she has never known.” Artemerio’s proud look dared the jester to respond.

“Gentlemen,” I have something to say,” said King Syroton. “Does it interest you at all?”

Having lost the reverential attitude he had had during his earlier speeches, Artemerio resorted to the superficial fawning at which he excelled. “A thousand apologies, King Syroton. Speak your will, and we will make it so.” He bowed deeply.

“A thousand apologies are not necessary, Artemerio, if one apology is sincere,” said the king. “I have not summoned you here only to hear your request. I have summoned you to have you solve a riddle for me. I understand that you and the very silent Barto already have all that you need to sail, but here is my offer: If you will solve this riddle for me, I will give you one of my own ships for your adventures.”

Artemerio and I needed no time to discuss our answer. The offer of the king’s ship was too generous to refuse.

“Yes—of course, Your Majesty,” said Artemerio.

“Very well. Here is the riddle.” The king began to recite:



“My value is priceless, though I can’t be bought.

I call out to all, though I must be sought.

I help men write laws, and I help rulers reign.

I turn all from waywardness, suffering, and pain.

Pursue me and choose me, whatever the cost—

Without me, the greatest of men would be lost.

Who am I? What do all good kings pursue?”



King Syroton paused after he finished the recitation. A somber look stole over him. “When you return to me, you will be changed men—greatly changed. The dangers to you are more than you can guess. This is no small task. The fate of this kingdom rests on your shoulders. I can reveal no more to you than this. But take heart. I know you will return. And now the jester will explain to you how you are to begin your quest and where you are to go. Jester, proceed.”

“Yes, sir.” The jester jumped up from his seat and bowed sharply and quickly toward the king. Then he turned to us.

The faintest flash of a grimace crossed Artemerio’s face.

The jester stared at him and smiled, as if he had seen the grimace and found it amusing. “Let those humble enough to follow and take orders from a mere jester follow me.”

I took a few steps following after the jester but then turned back. “Your Majesty, we thank you for this opportunity.” I bowed, and in doing so, I caught sight of the Windsalian insignia carved into the base of the throne platform. I gasped. Under the insignia were words that had been part of a strange dream I had had two nights before:



Secured not by a noble birth,

By soldiers’ strength, or mighty works.

Secured by virtues daily shown.

Through justice, mercy, truth—a throne.



“Is something wrong, Barto?” said the king.

“N-no, Your Majesty.” I bowed again and turned to follow the jester and Artemerio.

They were far ahead of me in the broad hallway that stretched away endlessly from the throne room, which may be why neither of them seemed to hear the whispers I heard as I left the king. But I know I heard whispers mingled with the echoes of footsteps.

“Barto, do not be afraid to speak,” a mysterious voice said again and again.

Curious, I stopped. But when a quick glance around revealed no obvious source of the whispers, I hurried on, concerned at the thought of Artemerio alone with the jester.



***



Within a week, we were ready to begin our journey. The night before we were to sail, Artemerio and I discussed our travels as we dined.

“Barto, I have no doubt that we will be sailing for the Unconquered Lands in a month or two. The greatest difficulty we will face in solving this riddle is keeping our thoughts occupied as we cross the many miles of open country. The jester marked only six cities on the map for us to visit. I have heard tales of riddles taking lifetimes to be answered, but the king is sending us on a journey that should take only a matter of weeks.”

“Perhaps—but have you not wondered why the king would make such a generous offer? What waits for us in these particular cities? And what do we know about solving riddles? We are the sons of a fisherman. We grew up in a small, unimportant village by the sea. Why would the king send us? There is more to this story than we see.”

“Oh, I forgot. You heard those whispers. ‘Speak, Barto.’” Artemerio laughed. “Perhaps there is a royal dog named Barto—and what you heard were orders given to him!” Artemerio laughed even harder and pounded on the table with glee.

“No, they were not orders given like that. The voice said, ‘Do not be afraid to—’ No. You are missing the point.”

“Which is?” Artemerio asked, one eyebrow arched dramatically and a mocking smile on his face.

I sighed. “You can be so infuriating. The point is—why us?”

Artemerio raised his cup. “To us, may our—”

“What about the dream? The words on the base of the throne were the words from that strange dream I told you about. How do you explain that? And what about the king’s words—that the fate of the kingdom is resting on our shoulders? Do you not feel a sense of destiny about this whole turn of events?”

Artemerio took a sip from his cup. “Yes, Barto. I do sense the same sort of strangeness you do. But what do you want me to do about it? Be as solemn and heavy-hearted as you? Think it strange that the king would find me worthy to be an adventurer? No. I do not know what you think we can figure out—or why we should spend any more time thinking this through. Solving riddles is a child’s game! Surely we are up to the task.” He raised his cup again. “To our destinies!”



***



We sailed to the southernmost point of Windsal aboard a swift, graceful ship called the Lady Lucinda.

“Barto! Where are you? We make landfall soon!” Artemerio called to me that morning. He barged into the cabin where I had been studying the maps—a map of my own and the map that the jester had delivered to us mere moments before we set sail. “Come!”

“Artemerio. Good. I want to show you something.” I rolled up the maps and followed him out onto the deck. “I have discovered a very curious thing—”

“As have I.” Artemerio glanced at the maps inattentively. “Well, perhaps curious is not the word for it. But regardless—I have been talking with some of the members of the crew about our plans—you know, for after this riddle is solved. From what I hear, there are riches to be made beyond what we can imagine not six months south of Blackdragon Point. Ah—perhaps the spot could be found on your map. Why do you have two?” He took one of the maps from me and began to examine it. “We could easily—”

“That can wait. And the maps are maps only of Windsal. You will not find Blackdragon Point on either of them. But look. Look there on the map. See that city there—by your thumb? Now look at this other map. Same coastline. Same rivers. Same mountains. Same paths. No city.”

“What are you trying to tell me? That one of the maps is wrong? Throw that one out, then. Now, back to what I was saying…Blackdragon Point…the Unconquered Lands…oh, yes—we could easily—”

“The map with the city is the one the jester gave us. The other map is mine. My map is a common map of the kingdom, as current as they come. I do not know what this means, but I do not think we should expect our journey to be as uneventful or as short as you seem to think it will be. And there are markings on the jester’s map that are entirely foreign to me. They could mean mountain peaks or walls—see the ones I mean—the strange marks surrounding the city that is again by your thumb? I have a feeling we should be prepared for anything.”

Just then a member of the crew called to us from across the deck. “Mr. Artemerio, Mr. Barto—we have reached the port. Will you be needing help with anything? We are to sail on as soon as you are safely deposited.”

“Crewman Beefeathers,” I said, “you may tell the crew we need no help, and we will be leaving you shortly after we dock. Thank you.”

Artemerio had turned to stare at the coastline. The jester’s map dangled loosely in the hand he had dropped to his side. “It is too late for examining your maps now, Barto. There is the port city of Sumada. We will be seeing the strange cities of the jester’s map and discovering what his enigmatic markings mean very soon.” He turned, his broad grin growing broader still. “And then—on to the Unconquered Lands.”

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Illuminated

Hello Literate World! Today I, Kaitlin,  will be review the young adult fantasy novel Illuminated  by Jackie Castle.

Plot: This volume, first in the White Road Chronicles, is the story of a young girl finding peace and love in the true King. (Sound familiar?) She has an arduous journey in which she learns much about herself, the world around her and the people she encounters. Fleeing a life dominated by evil King Darnel, Alyra meets a variety of fantasy creatures, and, eventually finds freedom and purpose in King Shaydon.

Pros: Good and Evil are clearly defined, as well as the consequences of our actions and the deception of sin. The human characters are life-like and completely relateable. The allegory is clear and the plot is original.

Cons: Unless approached properly, fantasy fiction can reach a level of being corny. While her people are very believable Ms. Castle's fantasy characters (ie: talking dragons, Okbolds, trolls, etc) are, perhaps better suited to children's fantasy, instead of young adult. The storyline, however would not be suitable for the immature reader. 

And there, ladies and gentlemen, is the sum of it. Please read below for all the technical details and to read the first chapter.

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

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



Today's Wild Card author is:


and the book:

CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform (December 5, 2012)

***Special thanks to Jackie Castle for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:


Jackie Castle graduated from UT Southwestern Medical Center of Dallas. She is a published freelance writer, storyteller and elementary educator. She lives in Texas with her husband, two teenagers, and her dog, Ginger (aka ginger-roonie). When she's not teaching, she is traipsing through the worlds of Alburnium or Fae in search of another story.

She looks for the extraordinary in the ordinary in everything she experiences.


Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:


Alyra, mockingly known as Princess, was captured at an early age by the evil ruler, Darnel, and brought up in the dark land of Racah. At the age of seventeen, she considers herself nothing special. She has no recollection of who she is or where she came from. Her hope of ever finding freedom dims.
Until the messenger arrives. Until he brings to light the meaning behind the medallion she's kept hidden. Until she accepts the blinding truth.

Now she flees for her life.

Alyra’s journey leads her down a narrow road with strange traveling companions. Together, they encounter a kingdom where nothing is what it first seems.




Product Details:
List Price: $11.98

Paperback: 338 pages
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform (December 5, 2012)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1481194623
ISBN-13: 978-1481194624



AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:


Winter’s grip on the mountain realm crept along the stony dungeon floor and seeped through the girl’s thin slippers. A biting chill encircled her legs, as gooseflesh spread up her back and down to her chapped hands. Shivering, she wished spring would hurry and show itself.

She pitched fresh hay into what were once stalls for horses and other livestock. Now King Darnel, ruler over the city of Racah, used the area to hold new slaves captured from the neighboring towns his forces had overtaken.

Her hand slipped over the weathered handle. A sharp jab sent tears welling in her eyes. She dropped the pitch fork, sucking at her splintered palm, covered in scrapes and scabs from previous injuries. To think, she’d traded a life of fine warm clothes and leisurely work for this. She picked the sliver from her hand. Every last injury was completely worth it.

“Hey, Princess.”

She spun toward the voice. Tarek stood in the doorway. Four pheasants hung by their legs from a strip of leather tied around Tarek’s belt. He wore the customary gray trousers and black shirt of the kitchen help. A spiteful grin crinkled the edges of his green eyes as he took in her work. Long, wheat-colored hair fell in his face and over the collar of his tunic.

At nineteen, he towered over her by nearly a foot in height and possibly two years in age. She had no memories of her past, including when and where she was actually born, or even more disturbing, her real name. From what little she did remember, she placed her own age somewhere around seventeen summers.

Darnel, who’d somehow managed to steal her memories, had ordered everyone to call her Princess, and they did so with much snickering and laughter. His little joke, she was sure.

Tarek pushed open the sliding door. A wave of cold air swirled in, stirring up dust and flecks of hay. “Ben wants you to bring a bucket of water out to the new arrivals. Right now.”

She replaced the tool on its peg, then grabbed her thin cloak before heading outside.

Tarek blocked the exit, leaning against the frame with arms crossed over his strong chest. While she spent most of her time cleaning, taking care of Ben, her overseer, or searching the various tunnels worming beneath the mountain fortress, he hunted outdoors or chopped wood. Her pale white skin stood in complete contrast to his darkened sun-kissed color. Oh, what she’d do to trade places with him. Yet she’d not complain. Her job in the dungeon was much more preferable to the one she previously held.

“Looks like this group came a long way. What a wasted bunch of bones. Though something about them must be important, if you ask me.”

Wanting to get away from him, she darted around and hurried toward the pump. The charcoal-gray castle towered hundreds of feet above, the stone walls blending into the cliffs. Below, nestled amongst the crags and plateaus lay Racah, consisting of stonework buildings and forlorn homes surrounded by high ramparts and steep peaks that circled the city.

Tarek trailed her like a lost puppy. “That Baykok Captain, the creepy one they call Bezoar? He brought them in himself.”

She froze, her gut twisted. She had no desire to meet the inhuman creature-man today. Grabbing the pail, she set it under the spout. Her splintered hand burned when she grasped the lever and pumped.

Tarek leaned closer until his tanned face was inches from hers. “And,” a taunt hid just below the surface of his words. “You’ll be happy to know your father is out there to greet our new guests, as well.” He bit his upper lip, keeping the mocking grin in check.

She gave the pump two more good pulls. “Aren’t you suppose to help cook for tonight’s banquet? Wonder what Darnel would say if he found out you were shirking your own responsibilities to play messenger boy?”

His annoying grin grew slack. Brows furrowed, he spat, “King Darnel. And I work hard. Even his majesty has bragged on my hunting skills. Unlike you, I appreciate my position and only want to serve my King to the best of my ability.”

“Such a good little lap dog you are. Why don’t you go fetch a bone or dig a hole and leave me to my own work?” She took up the pail handle and made her way toward the front of the prison where Ben would be waiting.

The weight of the bucket lightened as Tarek held the handle from the opposite side. She glared at him, despite being somewhat grateful for his help. He said nothing more as they walked. When the group came into view, nearly fifty people dressed in dreary, ragged clothing, she stopped a moment to gather her wits and steady her panicked thoughts. Just as Tarek said, Bezoar and Master both attended this group’s arrival.

Why?

“He’s not my father.”

Tarek’s brow arched.

“I wasn’t born to him.” She met his narrow-eyed gaze. “I wasn’t. I came from another place, like them. And like you. This isn’t my true home.”

His chest rose with a deep intake of breath which he slowly blew out. “Perhaps, Princess, we are better off here in Racah. I am. My family now has work, food to eat, decent shelter. Where we came from, nothing grew. Everyone was starving.” He brushed away the blond bangs from his face with his free hand. “Look at them. Their clothes are torn, ragged. Bet they will be glad, as well, once they see the King means them no harm.”

Princess shook her head. Tarek had no idea the evil Darnel was capable of. She hoped he’d never find out.

When Tarek left her, she paused needing to completely clear her mind. Humming a silent tune, she headed for the gathering.

Bezoar sat upon his huge black steed. He resembled a living skeleton with grayish skin that clung to his thin body like a grubby, wet sheet. His long, boney fingers hooked around a leather whip hanging from the saddle horn. Deep-set, yellowed eyes peered from beneath the hood of his black cloak.

“Sire,” the Baykok hissed, pointing to a man thrown over the back of a packhorse. “The messenger was a bonus. He’s been spreading his propaganda amongst the towns. I ordered his life spared for the time being. You did request I bring such filth to you when we found them.”

Lord Darnel chuckled with satisfaction. “Yes, that is a bonus, my good captain. Anytime we can stop such liars is indeed fortunate.”

Keeping the silent melody playing, Princess moved toward the group, making sure the dungeon master Ben was between herself and Master Darnel. Ben wore his colorful robes, the purple, red, and yellow striped fabric billowing in the breeze. As she approached, she noticed his hand gripping his cane so tight his chestnut-colored skin paled. Though Ben was known to have a terrible temper, age and arthritis had tamed his angry outbursts. Since she’d taken over many of his responsibilities, he generally treated her decently. More importantly, he ignored her long disappearances while she searched new tunnels for a means of escape.

Ben nodded toward the chained group, then ordered in his deep, throaty voice, “Give ’em something to drink, girl.”

Behind the messenger’s horse stood a long line of men, women, and children, all thin and haggard. Their condition most likely resulted from their trek across the barren land that surrounded the mountain. The castle itself, built into the heart of the cliffs, was nearly impenetrable, as well as inescapable. Climbing the only road leading into the city was difficult on horseback… and even more-so on foot. No telling how long they’d gone without food or rest. Bezoar didn’t concern himself with such human needs.

The prisoners clustered around her, eager to quench their dry mouths. They grasped the ladle greedily in their scraped, bloody hands. Princess avoided the scared expressions on the children’s dirty faces as they gulped the cool water. Yet one dark-haired girl, about the age of five, reminded her of the first time she’d entered this forsaken city. Had the same look of terror been in her own brown eyes?

Princess dared a glance toward the man strapped on the horse. He raised his bruised head. A long cut tore down the side of his cheek. With his one good eye, he stared at his surroundings in defiance. A gold medallion hung from his neck.

Her breath caught when her heart lodged into her throat. Forgetting the prisoners, Princess stepped closer. Water sloshed over the rim and onto her feet. She steadied the bucket, then handed it to the eldest man in the group to hold. She had to see that pendant.

The messenger’s face softened when he caught sight of her staring at him. She quickly turned, not wanting him to know she’d noticed him.

She chanced a glance at Master Darnel, surprised he wore his finest attire to greet a bunch of shoddy prisoners. He stood tall, a smile plastered on his smooth, handsome face. His deep purple button-down coat was trimmed in silver thread. Upon his head sat a silver crown, inlaid with rubies and emeralds, which had been collected while digging the tunnels throughout his mountain lands. His polished black boots stopped just below his knees.

Several large, brutish men flanked Darnel. She’d heard the newly appointed governors, who would run the new towns, were being presented at tonight’s banquet.

She shuddered when one of them grinned at her and elbowed a trollish-looking man, who stood beside him. They whispered something, then broke into chuckles, all the while never taking their eyes off her. Princess’s gut twisted, wondering what they found so humorous. She took the bucket from the elder and stood to the side, searching Ben’s face to see if he’d give her the go-ahead to take them inside.

Ben remained a statue.

Darnel motioned to his men. “Release the messenger so he may stand with our other guests.”  His mocking smile widened.

Two soldiers untied the messenger’s hands and feet and shoved him off the beast headfirst. He crashed to the ground with a loud groan. One man grabbed the pail from her and tossed the remaining water in the man’s face. He staggered to his feet.

His nicely tailored clothes were bloodied and torn. Dirt caked his beard. The medallion hung outside his shirt, the symbol of a horn glinted in the morning sun.

The disk was different, yet similar. What could that mean?

Darnel stepped closer, scanning the group. She felt his stare and despite all attempts not to look, her eyes finally met his cold blues. His hateful laughter sounded inside her head. Think. Fill your mind to keep him out!

“How fortunate-” Darnel addressed the crowd, “-for all of you to be brought here at this exciting time in the history of my empire. We are, this very day, in the process of establishing new cities and villages in the western frontier. And you, most fortunate ones, are to be the first to inhabit them.”

Now she understood why Bezoar and the governors were there. This group would be forced to build those cities. Maybe that was the reason behind his increased attacks on the border lands. He needed more slaves to send out west where he hoped to increase his kingdom. She gazed toward the rising sun, knowing something hindered his progress in that direction. Something that plagued her dreams and pulled at her heartstrings.

“My territory is expanding. My governors and I-” Darnel waved to the beast-men standing behind him, “-are discussing how best to achieve this. We petition you, good people of Racah, to listen to our ideas and consider joining the quest to revive these lands under my rule.”

Princess shook her head and muttered, “Working as slave laborers.”

With a gasp, she snapped her mouth closed. Those standing around her whispered to each other.  They’d heard her! An outburst like that might result in more lashings. She chewed her lip, daring a glance at Ben whose brown eyes narrowed on her in silent warning.

The messenger’s voice boomed over Darnel’s speech.  “Lies! Do not fall for this imposter’s deception.”

The closest soldier shoved the butt of his spear into the man’s gut. “Shut up, fool!”

The man fell to his knees wheezing.

Princess gaped at him. He’d be the dragon’s supper if he didn’t quit.

The messenger took in a winded breath and continued, “Resist him! For the army of the true  King is at hand! Do not give in to this evil traitor and his ways! Stand firm while time remains.”  He leaped to his feet and darted out of the soldier’s reach. His steel-gray eyes scanned the frightened prisoners.

Don’t listen to the ranting of a fool, daughter! Darnel’s voice rasped in her head. She flinched, and tried once again to control her thoughts. The man continued talking, but she couldn’t separate his words from Master’s.

“The time of this evil one’s reign….”

Foolish girl, have you not learned your lesson yet? Darnel stood still as a statue, an amused look on his calm face. His cruel eyes flicked in her direction. I would be prepared to forgive your insolence and restore you to your rightful position.

Her head pounded from trying to block his thoughts.

“…his army approaches as I speak.”

The snap of Bezoar’s whip cracked the air as it tore into the messenger’s back. He flicked again, and another streak ripped open his shirt and skin. The man bowed over, going down on his knees in the mud.

“Enough,” hissed Bezoar, drawing his sword from the sheath. “I’ll take care of this, Sire.”

Heart racing, Princess stepped between the dark hooded creature and the crouched man. “The dragon hasn’t been fed in awhile, Master.” She met Darnel’s arctic glare.

Her mouth went dry at her own audacity. She’d have been better off staying out of the way and as quiet as possible. But she couldn’t let them kill the messenger. Not yet.

“The dragon doesn’t care if he’s crazy or not. She’ll eat him all the same.”

The people standing around her gasped.

The eldest prisoner spoke up. “Perhaps we should listen to the Messenger.” He pointed a dirty finger at Darnel. “That tyrant ordered our towns to be burnt to the ground, then says he wants us to help rebuild? Shoulda left us alone in the first place if you ask me.”

Darnel closed the distance between himself and the old man. His hand clamped around the prisoner’s neck. “I did you a favor. You’re homes were crumbling, you had nothing to eat—”

“That’s ’cause you’ve stripped this land of all that’s good. I remember what it was like. I remember when we followed King Shay—”

With one quick movement, a dagger appeared in Darnel’s hand and swept across the man’s neck, splattering the bystanders in blood. The old man crumpled at Master’s feet, red puddling into the ground. Darnel, ignoring the screams coming from the on-lookers, turned to Ben, his blue eyes flashing with rage.

“I’ll expect you to convince them to accept my offer. If there are others who wish to join the messenger at my dragon’s dinner, don’t hesitate to comply.”

Ben nodded, then motioned for a couple of soldiers to escort the remaining group inside. Bezoar ordered the body to be dumped in the pit and the messenger to be taken to the holding cell until the dragon’s feeding time.

Princess moved to follow Ben when a strong hand clamp down on her arm. Darnel yanked her around so she was face to face with him.

“It’s your fault that man died.”

She started to protest that he had the dagger not her, but he cut off her words.

“Stupid child. When will you learn that I mean to sever anything or anyone who denies my authority? If you refuse to serve me, I will find other means of curbing your disloyalty.”

From behind her, the messenger yelled, “Don’t give in, freedom is at hand!”

She watched as the soldiers dragged him to the dungeon.

Darnel gripped her chin, his fingers still wet with the man’s blood. He turned her face back to his. “You are running out of time, daughter. My patience with you wanes.”

“Will you also feed me to the dragon, Master?” she asked, emboldened by the messenger’s chants of Freedom! filling her heart.

“I’ll not give you such an easy way out, my dear.” He shoved her away, then strolled toward the castle with his governors following. The troll-man kept looking back over his shoulder at her, smirking.

Princess reached into the inner pocket she’d sewn into all her skirts and pulled out a small golden disk which fit perfectly inside the palm of her hand. A tree had been engraved on one side. The other side had a fire flame surrounded by what might be a burst of light. Her medallion was similar to the messenger’s yet different.

“For freedom!” He continued to chant. Suddenly, the sound of a loud smack brought complete silence from within.

There wasn’t much time. She needed to hurry.

Thursday, October 11, 2012

The Mustard Seeds by Karen Mueller Bryson

Karen has written another quick and entertaining novel.  We have a number of friends who have faced the trials of raising a child with Asperger's Syndrome so this book was particularly interesting to me.  While it was written in third person the tone Ms. Bryson used made me feel as if I was seeing things from Elliot's point of view.  

Special thanks to Karen for this signed copy of The Mustard Seeds.


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

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



Today's Wild Card author is:


and the book:

CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform (August 26, 2012)

***Special thanks to Karen Mueller Bryson for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:


Dr. Karen Mueller Bryson is an award-winning/optioned screenwriter, produced playwright and published novelist. Karen has been writing since she learned to read and fell in love with books! When she's not at her computer creating new stories, Karen enjoys spending time with her husband and their bloodhounds. Karen is the founder of Short on Time Books, fast-paced and fun novels for readers on the go. Karen is also an Associate Professor of Psychology and Human Services at Ottawa University.


Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:


After his mom’s sudden death, Elliot White, a 16-year old musical savant with Asperger’s Syndrome, is forced to leave his performing arts high school in New York City when he relocates to Winslow, Arizona to live with his eccentric aunt, and must attend a school with no music program.


Product Details:
List Price: $6.95
Paperback: 128 pages
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform (August 26, 2012)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1478189746
ISBN-13: 978-1478189749



AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:


Sixteen-year-old Elliot White wriggles in an ill-fitting black suit and adjusts Buddy Holly-like glasses as he stares at a sign in front of him. It reads: Discount Funerals (Includes Free Lunch Buffet). Although it should be a somber occasion, all he can think about is his recital later in the afternoon. He finally gets to play the solo piece he has been painstakingly practicing for months. Why did his mom have to die right before his big show?
Elliot’s aunt, 38-year-old Amaryllis Long, adjusts the straps of her black sundress then straightens the substantial crucifix around her neck. She’s not sure she’s ready to bury her only sister—her only sibling. Now she is truly alone in the world. Well, except for Elliot. Amaryllis takes a deep breath, then grabs her nephew by the arm in an effort to lead him into the shabby funeral home.
Elliot flinches as soon as Amaryllis touches him. Touching is not something he prefers to engage in. The act feels painful and foreign. He avoids it whenever possible. It’s one of the many things he avoids because they overwhelm his delicate sensory system.
Inside the funeral home, Elliot and Amaryllis take seats in two of the few folding chairs in the back of the small room. They both stare silently at the closed pine casket, which takes up most of the front part of the room. Finally, Elliot clears his throat. “I have to get back to school in one hour. I have a solo in the spring musical extravaganza.” 
“Your mother always did have awful timing,” Amaryllis replies.

♫♪♫

A short time later, Amaryllis and Elliot make their way into the auditorium of his elite performing arts high school. It’s one of the best in New York City. Amaryllis feels very out of place amongst the instrument-toting teens and their well-dressed parents. She hasn’t stepped foot in a high school since her own graduation twenty years ago. And she certainly doesn’t make many trips out of the Arizona desert.
Amaryllis takes a seat in the packed audience and listens contently as the orchestra plays a rousing medley of classical favorites. In the middle of the final piece, Elliot, still in his funeral attire, stands and plays a stunning solo on his viola. She is amazed at the talent of her own flesh and blood. Although she hasn’t seen him in at least 10 years, her only nephew holds a special place in her heart. And now that her sister’s gone, Amaryllis will be his guardian and caretaker. She shudders slightly at the thought. What does she know about raising children? Or raising any living thing, for that matter. She can’t even keep a houseplant alive.
At the conclusion of Elliot’s solo, the audience erupts in applause and gives the young musician a standing ovation. Elliot simply bows and takes his seat with the rest of the orchestra.
Once the performance is over, there was a small reception for Elliot in the school’s foyer. Elliot finds himself standing awkwardly under a sign, which reads: Farewell, Elliot, We Will Miss You. Next to Elliot is a small folding table with a punch bowl, papers cups and a small tray of butter cookies. Mr. Grubb, the school’s portly orchestra director, stands on the far side of the table, rubbing sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. Both Mr. Grubb and Elliot wait patiently for well-wishers but none are forthcoming. Finally, a little boy with a red Kool-Aid mustache runs up to the table and giggles. He snatches several cookies, shoves them into his mouth and dashes away. Mr. Grubb holds out some hope when a group of teens carrying instruments approaches and it looks like they might stop at the table, but the kids continue down the hallway laughing amongst themselves.
Mr. Grubb glances over at Elliot, who was now picking lint from his suit jacket. “We’ll certainly miss you,” he says warmly.
“I know,” Elliot responds without making eye contact.

♫♪♫

The next morning, Amaryllis and Elliot, each carrying several packing boxes, approach a shabby-looking brownstone row house with a FOR RENT sign in the front window.
When they enter the home, Amaryllis is shocked to find the living room in complete disarray. She was not aware of the extent of her sister, Iris’s, mental illness or the fact that she dealt with major depressive episodes for most of Elliot’s life. When Iris got depressed, she holed herself up in her bedroom, sometimes for days at a time, and Elliot was forced to fend for himself.
“You can pack whatever’ll fit in these boxes,” Amaryllis says matter-of-factly. “The rest’ll have to go to Goodwill. The landlord, bless his soul, said he’d get some friends from church to help him clear the place out.”
Elliot merely grunts in response and heads into his bedroom. Amaryllis follows her nephew into his room, which she’s surprised to see is immaculate. It’s a bit of out of place compared to the chaos of the rest of the house.
Elliot immediately opens his desk drawer and fills the first box with sheet music that packs the bottom drawer.
“What is all that?” she asks.
“My music,” he says and snorts.
Amaryllis raises an eyebrow.
Elliot continues, “I have to have my music.”
She watches curiously as he moves to his bookshelf, removes a miniature viola and carefully places it in his second box. She opens the small closet next to her and notes the few shirts and pants hanging there. “Don’t you think we should pack these clothes?”
Elliot snorts in response. He grabs a framed photo of his mother and him and stares at it for a moment.
“She’s in a better place,” Amaryllis says as she glances at the photo.
Elliot grunts again, then places the photo in his box.
On their way out of the house, a book lying on the sofa catches Amaryllis’s eye. It’s titled Asperger’s Disorder: A Beginner’s Guide. She grabs the copy as they head out the door.

♫♪♫

 They carry filled boxes toward her beater pick-up and load them in the truck’s cab. Amaryllis gets into the driver’s side and Elliot hops into the passenger’s seat. He places a black urn containing his mother’s ashes in his lap and the two began their trip across the country.
“So, what did my sister tell you about me?” Amaryllis asks, trying to make conversation.
“My mother? She never said a word about you,” he replies.
“No surprise there.”
After an awkward moment of silence passes, she says, “Your mother mentioned something about Asperger’s Syndrome.”
Elliot snorts in response.
“Is there anything I should be aware of?” Amaryllis knows even less about the disorder than she does about raising teenagers.
Elliot tugs nervously on his earlobe then says, “I’m not like everyone else.”
Amaryllis shrugs. “Neither am I.”
“Aspies’ brains are wired differently. We think differently than neurotypicals.”
“Neurotypicals?”
“That’s everyone who’s not on the autism spectrum. Which are most people.”
Amaryllis nods. She certainly understands what it feels like to not be like other people. Since she finally has Elliot talking, she tries another question. “Arizona should be quite an adventure for you.”
“I don’t like adventures,” Elliot replies flatly. He turns and looks out the window as the big open country passes by.
Amaryllis realizes the moment has passed and the conversation is now over.

♫♪♫

It takes several days, but the pair finally makes it to the Arizona border. Amaryllis gives a little hoot as her pick-up rambles past a sign that reads: Arizona - The Grand Canyon State. As they drive through the barren land of northern Arizona, Elliot watches as a lone tumbleweed blows by. His first time out of New York is not yet proving to be eventful.
“We should be in Winslow in no time,” Amaryllis says, breaking the silence that has lasted since Colorado.
“Everything looks dead,” Elliot notes.
She chuckles. “Welcome to Arizona.”

♫♪♫

As Amaryllis’s truck rambles down Second Street, she breathes a sigh of relief that they are finally back home. The tired old town of Winslow has seen better days, but its familiarity is a welcome site. As they drive past the ‘Standin’ on a Corner in Winslow, Arizona’ site made famous by the Eagles, a haggard man with a collie walks by a life-sized male statue marking the place for tourists.
“There it is,” Amaryllis says as she gazes out the window. “The famous corner.”
When Elliot looks out the window, he sees the haggard man’s collie lift his leg on the statue. Elliot looks puzzled. “What’s so famous about that corner?”
“I guess you’ve never heard of the Eagles.”
“The birds of prey?”
“The rock band,” Amaryllis replies, immediately feeling older. “Standin’ on the corner in Winslow, Arizona. That doesn’t sound familiar to you?”
Elliot shakes his head.
“And you say you’re a musician,” she teases.
Elliot remains stoic and Amaryllis wonders if he is able to take a joke.

♫♪♫

About ten miles out of town, Amaryllis pulls into the Desert Dream Trailer Park. Seven well-worn double-wides mark the otherwise desolate landscape. One of the double-wides also serves as a make-shift office. A sign over it reads: Welcome to your Desert Dream.
She pulls her truck up to her trailer and they hop out. They both take a much-needed stretch after the long ride.
“We made it,” Amaryllis says.

♫♪♫

Elliot just stares at the sight of his new home. It’s a big step down from his mother’s row house.
“I know it doesn’t look like much, but it’s paid for,” she says. “We best get your stuff unpacked before nightfall.”
Inside, Elliot glances at the well-worn furniture. He notices religious iconography surrounding the room’s centerpiece—a massive velvet Jesus painting. Even though his mother never took him to church, he loves to read about the world’s major religions.
Amaryllis points to a small room off of the living area. “That’ll be your room. Used to be my sewing room.”
“Where will you sew?” Elliot asks.
“Austin’s got some space for me.”
He looks puzzled. “Austin is one thousand twenty miles from here.”
She gives her nephew a huge grin. “Nope, right next door.”
As if on cue, 45-year-old Austin Young, a burnt-out hippie, enters the double-wide. “Did someone mention my name?”
Amaryllis leans over to Elliot conspiratorially and says, “The walls have ears. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Elliot quickly glances around the small room looking for signs of ears on the walls. How could a wall have ears, he wonders? So far, Arizona is an extremely confusing place for him.
Austin puts out a hand for Elliot to shake, but the young man seems oblivious to the gesture and does not reciprocate. He tugs on his earlobe instead.
Austin tries another tactic. “How was your trip?” he asks.
When he doesn’t respond, Amaryllis pipes in, “Tiring. Elliot must be exhausted.”
“I’m not tired,” Elliot interjects a little too loudly. “I slept for 22 of the 35 hours we traveled and I slept in both of the motels in which we stayed. Day one was a 14-hour trip with two gas breaks and a lunch break. Day two was similar. Today, we only had to travel for 7 hours.
“That’s precise,” Austin says with a smile at Elliot. Then he says to Amaryllis, “You’re welcome to come by my place for dinner. I’ll fire up the grill.”
“I think we’ll take a rain check.” She pats her friend’s arm. “Elliot has to get ready for school tomorrow.”
“Gotcha. Dinner’s an open invitation.”
“I know,” Amaryllis says, giving Austin a warm smile.
Austin heads for the door, but turns back before exiting. “I’ve got a new recipe for chipotle steak sauce. Bet it’d taste awfully good with those baby potatoes you love so much.”
“Good night, Austin,” Amaryllis says as she lovingly nudges him out the door. She smiles as the door closes behind him.