Charlotte Vance is a young woman who knows what she wants. But when the man she planned to marry joins the Shakers--a religious group that does not marry--she is left dumbfounded. And when her father brings home a new wife who is young enough to be Charlotte's sister, it is more than she can bear. With the country--and her own household--on the brink of civil war, this pampered gentlewoman hatches a plan to avoid her new stepmother and win back her man by joining the Shaker community at Harmony Hill. Little does she know that this decision will lead her down a road toward unforeseen peace--and a very unexpected love.
Ann H. Gabhart brings alive the strikingly different worlds of the Southern gentry, the simple Shakers, and the ravages of war to weave a touching story of love, freedom, and forgiveness that sticks with readers long after they have turned the last page.
My thoughts:
You know, I hate to say it, but this was just not the book for me. I never leave a book unfinished. Ever. I just could not get into this one. I really wanted to enjoy it because I always like reading about new cultures and religious sects. It wasn't as though I didn't give the book a fair shot (I read the first 180 pages out of 400+), but there was just far too much attention to detail for my tastes, and not enough dialogue between the characters.
I didn't care for Selena at all, and thankfully, she really wasn't a full-fledged main character or I would've stopped reading the book much sooner. I also didn't like that it took 100 pages before Charlotte decided to join the Shakers. It wasn't as though she was ruminating on it for 100 pages, but that there was all this other stuff happening that was, at times, overly repetitive. I didn't care for Charlotte's father, either, since he pretty much let Selena take over his entire household without saying a word.
All in all, it was a bummer to leave it unfinished. There are several reviews already out there praising the quality of the book, the setting and history of the story, and that it's the best book in the series. I haven't read the other books in the series, and didn't feel that I was missing anything in the storyline of The Seeker. But in all honesty, the story was just too flat for me. I am giving it a rating of 2 stars.
**Thanks to Revell for providing a copy for review in exchange for my honest opinion.
Bestselling author Terri Blackstock presents another stand-alone novel, Predator.
The murder of Krista Carmichael's fourteen-year-old sister by an online predator has shaken her faith and made her question God's justice and protection. Desperate to find the killer, she creates an online persona to bait the predator. But when the stalker turns his sights on her, will Krista be able to control the outcome?
Ryan Adkins started the social network GrapeVyne in his college dorm and has grown it into a billion-dollar corporation. But he never expected it to become a stalking ground for online Predators. One of them lives in his town and has killed two girls and attacked a third. When Ryan meets Krista, the murders become more than a news story to him, and everything is on the line. Joining forces, he and Krista set out to stop the killer. But when hunters pursue a hunter, the tables can easily turn. Only God can protect them now.
My thoughts:
I tell ya, Terri Blackstock's books just keep getting better and better! This one had me on the edge of my seat the whole way through. What made it so good was that it was a story relevant to the current hi-tech society that we live in. It made me rethink everything that I post online, and thankfully, I know better than to post the intimate details of my life such as where I'm going every day, when I will or won't be home, etc. Some people really just don't know better, and this book tackles that very issue. It may literally scare you witless.
I would recommend this book to anyone, but particularly to parents and older teens. Some parents don't pay attention to what their children are looking at online, what networks they belong to, or who their friends are. That, in and of itself, is plain scary, but what's scarier is that you never know who's watching and what someone's intent may be. There's a section of the story where Terri just puts it in black and white through the voice of one of her characters:
"Examine your social networks and take down everything you've posted that you wouldn't want a murderous predator to see. Don't post where you are, ever. Don't post where you live, or your school, or your town, or your church. Don't post pictures that identify places, like colleges or schools or particular teams you might be on. Never post your work schedule or your activities or your travel plans. And don't flood the site with pictures of yourself. You have no idea how much information a predator can get from those pictures."
I loved this book because I got a great story plus some really relevant information. This has to be one of THE BEST books that Terri has ever written, and I applaud her for writing about a subject that is very prevalent in today's society. The characters in the story are real, the circumstances harrowing, and the roadblocks they face agonizing. Predator gets a huge 5 star rating from me!
**Thanks to Zondervan through CFBA for providing a copy for review.
It's Christmas in July over on my other blog! I'm about to start posting a few things here and there about my "crafting" ventures, complete with a how-to every once in awhile. Soooo, if you've got some creative juices, and would like a little extra inspiration from time to time, hop on over to my craft blog, Southern Sassy Treasures!
Today, I'm sharing about some Christmas ornaments that I've started making for the first time. I never realized how much fun this could be, and I've got loads of other ideas swirling around in my head waiting to be made. I hope to see you over there, and would love to hear your comments! :o)
I graduated from high school at sixteen, college at 20, and completed my law degree when I was 27.
My writing journey started in 2005 when I decided to write my first novel. Now I have eleven books published with more on the way.
People say I've accomplished a lot and that I must have life by the proverbial tail. Hardly! I grew up as a home schooled kid when home schoolers were misunderstood and oddities.
I struggle with balancing my writing and law career, plus being a good mom and wife.
I often fear people won't like my books.
I've walked through the deep pain of miscarriage.
Really, I'm just like you – I don't have it all together and have gone through tough times. But in His strength, I've discovered a strength I never knew I had. A strength I want you to discover, too.
In the end I'm just an ordinary mom who has seen God do some wonderful things as I've been obedient to step into the calling He's led me into.
Stars in the Night Background Stars in the Night was an idea that had begun to percolate in my mind. I’d written two World War II series and was actively looking for my next setting. My husband, a huge World War II history buff, and I were kicking ideas around, and I’d decided Hollywood was probably the next place for me. I’d gone to the library and gotten a stack of research books when I got the call. An editor I knew but had never worked with wanted to know if I might be interested in a new line they were starting. As we talked, I got so excited. And then she emailed me their guidelines, which listed that Hollywood was a location they were interested in setting books.
Only God could have known ahead of time. But because I followed His prompting I was ready to run with an idea. Stars in the Night is the result.
ABOUT THE BOOK
Hollywood 1942. When attorney Audra Schaeffer's sister disappears, Audra flies to Hollywood to find her.
Any day Audra might have been flattered by the friendly overtures of Robert Garfield, a real-life movie star. But on the flight from Indianapolis to Hollywood, Audra can think of little else than finding her missing sister. When Audra arrives in the city of glitz and glamour, and stars, and learns her rising starlet sister has been murdered, all thoughts of romance fly away.
Determined to bring the killer to justice, Audra takes a job with the second Hollywood Victory Caravan.
Together with Robert Garfield and other stars, she crisscrosses the southern United States in a campaign to sell war bonds. When two other women are found dead on the train, Audra knows the deaths are tied to that of her sister.
Could the killer be the man with whom she's falling in love?
Contest: Lots of opportunities to win and great prizes, and the grand prize contains some of Cara's favorite classic movies as well as all of her WWII novels: Launch Contest!
Hey, gals....we have a winner for the Susan Page Davis giveaway!
But first, let me give another big thank you to our author for giving away these two great books! *commence clapping and grinning wildly* If you didn't win a book this time around, let me encourage you to head over to your local bookstore or Amazon.com or CBD.com so you can add both of these books to your reading collection. :o)
Now....without further ado, our first winner is.............. *drumroll, please*
BARBARA M.
Barbara M. has won a copy of The Sheriff's Surrender! Congrats, Barbara! :o)
And now....for our second winner.....
JAN MARIE
Jan Marie has won a copy of The Gunsmiths' Gallantry! Congrats to you, too, Jan Marie! :o)
I'll be emailing both of these ladies with the good news, and if I do not hear back from them within 48 hours, I will be drawing another name. In the meantime, go grab a good book, particularly one about the Ladies Shooting Club!
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!
***Special thanks to Audra Jennings, Senior Media Specialist for The B&B Media Group for sending me a review copy.***
ABOUT THE AUTHORS:
A Memphis, Tennessee native, Leigh Anne was raised by her devout Christian mother and tough-as-nails U.S. Marshall father, a JFK appointee who served the administration in its efforts to racially integrate schools in the Deep South. She attended Briarcrest Christian School and went on to graduate from the University of Mississippi, “Ole Miss,” with a Bachelor of Science degree in Interior Design. There Leigh Anne met Sean Tuohy, her husband of 27 years. Both were active and ambitious college students. Leigh Anne was a cheerleader, campus favorite, homecoming maid, and active member of her sorority; Sean became a record-breaking SEC basketball champion and still holds several SEC assist records. Drafted by the NBA’s New Jersey Nets in 1982, he opted to continue his career overseas before returning to the U.S. to be with his father in his final days. He became a successful entrepreneur, building a company that now owns and operates 70 fast food restaurants, including Taco Bell and Long John Silver’s franchises. The Tuohys are the proud parents of daughter Collins and sons Michael Oher and Sean Jr.
List Price: $24.00 Hardcover: 288 pages Publisher: Henry Holt and Co. (July 13, 2010) Language: English ISBN-10: 0805093389 ISBN-13: 978-0805093384
AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:
Prologue
The Popcorn Theory
LEIGH ANNE and SEAN
We all begin on the same page and we're all going to end on the same page.—Sean Tuohy
After many years of getting and spending, of being broke, then rich, then almost broke again, of cashing in and paying up, and—let's face it—hoping to die with the most toys, we're convinced that it's better to give than receive. Some folks call that philanthropy. But we aren't the fancy types. We don't always have enough starch in our shirts and our household is about as formal as a sandbox. Instead, we live by a more informal notion, which we call the Popcorn Theory.
It goes like this: "You can't help everyone. But you can try to help the hot ones who pop right up in front of your face."
The Popcorn Theory is about noticing others. It starts with recognizing a fellow soul by the roadside as kindred, even if he doesn't seem to belong in your gated community and, at six foot five and over three hundred pounds, is the biggest piece of popcorn you ever saw. It's about acknowledging that person's potential and value. It's about seeing him, instead of looking past him.
"Like with popcorn, you don't know which kernel's gonna pop," Sean likes to say. "But the hot ones just show up. It's not hard to spot 'em."
Except, that first day we almost drove right by him.
It was a raw autumn morning in late November 2002, the day before Thanksgiving. A light dusting of snow had just fallen, which we in Memphis, Tennessee—being Southerners—considered a blizzard. Ice draped the roof gutters and the sky was dull and blanched, a waste-colored day.
We were on our way out to breakfast. He was trudging down the street in nothing but a T-shirt and shorts, his arms wrapped in a sad knot, his breath visible in the cold.
We glanced at him, briefly. Then we did what comes too easily to all of us. To be honest—gut-punch honest—we kept on driving and passed him by. Past the occasional patches of snow that lay on the yards like sheets half pulled back. Past the stubbled lawns and the freeze-cracked sidewalks.
But, as we left him behind, a thought tugged at Leigh Anne's consciousness. It was as faint as the wind, as indistinct as the chittering of birds.
"Turn around," Leigh Anne said.
With that, our lives changed in a heartbeat.
If you are among the millions of people who saw the movie The Blind Side, or read the book it was based on, then you know what happened next. You know how a wealthy suburban couple pulled over and spoke to young, rootless Michael Oher. How Michael was a ward of the state, his mother an addict, his father murdered. How he ran away from twenty foster homes and passed through eleven schools before he met us. How he eventually became a second son to us and earned a football scholarship to the University of Mississippi, where he made the Chancellor's Honor Roll. How he then went on to stardom in the National Football League. How an Academy Award–nominated film was made about our family, and how Sandra Bullock won her first Oscar for her portrayal of Leigh Anne.
You probably think you know everything about us, our whole story. Actually, you only know part of it. Don't get us wrong. Our friend Michael Lewis, the author of The Blind Side, wrote a wonderful book that deserved to be a bestseller. (Most of his books sell big. We haven't read all of them, but if you see him, tell him we did.) Our friend Sandra Bullock is a brilliant actress and her star turn in the movie, all nerve and bluntness, was perfect. (Leigh Anne doesn't actually wear skirts that tight, but it's a minor point.) Compared to our real lives, though, the book and movie were just sketches.
For instance, people ask all the time: "Is Leigh Anne Tuohy really like that?"
Our friends are quick to answer: "It's worse. The movie could only get an hour and a half of her in."
The truth is, childbirth is easier to explain than our story. So in this book we'd like to introduce our family properly, tell you how we saw events through our own eyes, and deliver our message in our own voices.
It's a message about giving. We often say that our son Michael gave us much more than we gave him. That confuses people: how is it possible that a homeless kid could give anything to wealthy parents who already had two perfect children? It's possible because in every exchange with Michael, we came out on the better end. We gave him a home—and he gave us back a stronger and more centered family. We gave him advice and support—and he gave us back a deeper awareness of the world. We gave him love as a boy—and he gave us back a man to be proud of. Each thing we gave to him has been returned to us multiplied.
But before any of that could happen, something else had to happen first. A fundamental precondition had to be met.
We had to notice him. We had to see him.
At this point we should pause to explain why a couple of well-heeled suburbanites would go out to breakfast on a weekday morning. The answer is that we don't cook. Or, to be more specific, Leigh Anne doesn't cook. As Sean likes to tell people, "My wife believes that if somebody else cooked it, and we bring it home and eat it, that's ‘home cooking.' "
Our son Sean Junior, who we call S.J. for short, claims that our conversations about meals always consist of the following exchange:
"What's for dinner?"
"Whatever you pick up."
S.J. also likes to tell the story of our Kroger's supermarket card. A while back the local grocery started a program: for every fifty bucks spent at Kroger's, four dollars would go to the school or charity of your choice. After about a year, our grand contribution to the team, based on the amount of food we purchased, came to just seven dollars. The only things we ever bought were Diet Coke and Gatorade.
Actually, we almost didn't even have a kitchen in our house. Several years ago we moved into a lovely home in the upper-crust River Oaks section of Memphis, thanks to our dual success in business—Leigh Anne as an interior designer, Sean as an entrepreneur in the fast-food business. Due to the growth of Leigh Anne's firm, Flair I Interiors, and Sean's company, RGT Management—which over the years has acquired more than eighty Taco Bells, Pizza Huts, and Long John Silver's—we were fortunate enough to be able to buy and remodel a beautiful four-bedroom, cream-brick manor on a bucolic street called Shady Grove Lane.
Leigh Anne handled the remodeling discussions with the architect, who then drew up some plans. When she showed the blueprints to the rest of the family, we all stared at them for a long moment.
"Where's the kitchen?" Sean said to Leigh Anne.
Meaningful pause.
"I don't plan on cooking."
Longer pause.
"All right," Sean replied patiently, "let's approach this from the practical side. What if we ever want to sell the house? Who would buy a house with no kitchen?"
Stubborn, emphatic pause.
"I don't plan on selling the house."
Eventually, we struck a compromise: a small passageway lined with bookshelves was converted into a galley kitchen. Sean likes to show it off to visitors by spreading his arms out in the tiny space. "See this?" he'll say. "This was a negotiation."
Even now, it's immaculate because it's so seldom used. As our daughter, Collins, tells her friends, "It's like a hospital operating room."
S.J. enjoys throwing open the refrigerator door to show visitors what's inside: nothing but bottles. We have drinks. We have sauces. We have condiments, ketchup, and mustard. We have seasonings, stuff to put on food. But no actual food.
By now you may have gathered that our family is a little . . . odd.
So that's why we were out driving that morning. We were on our way to get some home cooking.
That day in the car when we spotted Michael, ambling slowly along a tidy cement walk and past a series of wrought iron gates behind which peeked the tall gables of grand homes, we each had the same fleeting thought. We wondered, inwardly, what a black kid was doing in that neighborhood at nine thirty in the morning. Frankly, he was out of place. In that part of town, it's a little unusual to see someone walking on foot, much less a very tall, very large, dark-complexioned person in shorts.
"He looks like a fish out of water," Leigh Anne said aloud, peering through the windshield.
Memphis, of course, has a long and tortured racial history. But if you live in River Oaks—a stately, wholly white enclave—it's easy to avert your eyes from the city's race and class divisions, or ignore them altogether. Thick-chimneyed Mock Tudors and faux French chateaus are tucked behind whitewashed brick walls. The subdivisions have European names like Normandy Court and they exude affluence and seclusion. They are sheltered by old oaks and pines and heavy hedges and protected by thick garden walls. There's no concertina wire, but you get the idea.
As we passed Michael, Sean recognized him. He was the "new kid" everyone was talking about at Briarcrest Christian School.
The pleasant, redbrick high school where we sent our children was just four blocks from our house. Briarcrest had been founded in 1973 as a response to the court-ordered racial integration of the Memphis City Schools, when the flight of white parents had resulted in a burgeoning of small, private, reassuringly homogenous halls of education. Most of the kids at Briarcrest came from the same neighborhoods and their families enjoyed the same income levels.
But, to its credit, Briarcrest had begun to seek out and admit minority children, partly out of a philanthropic impulse, partly in the interest of giving its affluent students fuller exposure to the actual world around them. Michael was one of these minority kids—he'd only just arrived and he stuck out like a sore thumb.
As it happens, Michael was the same age and in the same class as our daughter, Collins. One day she had encountered him on the staircase on her way to anatomy. He was going up and she was going down, and he took up the entire passageway. She had to back up so he could get past her. She remembers thinking, "That's the largest person I've ever seen."
The next day she introduced herself to him. He just said, "Hey." She didn't get many words out of him in their first few encounters.
Sean had also noticed him at Briarcrest, where he volunteered in the afternoons as a basketball coach. It was his habit to drop by the school during his lunch break and he had spotted Michael in the gym, sitting in the bleachers watching some kids play ball. One afternoon Sean spoke with Michael briefly, and he came home talking about the huge new kid who had great hands and feet to go along with his size. Sean saw right away that Michael might be a real asset to the Briarcrest athletic teams.
As we left Michael in the rearview mirror that November morning, the two of us had a brief conversation.
"That's the new kid at Briarcrest I told you about," Sean said.
"What's he doing out here this time of day?" Leigh Anne asked. "School's not in session."
"I don't know."
And that was it. No question about it, we intended to keep driving. We were more concerned with breakfast. Actually, we were preoccupied with food in general, given that it was the day before Thanksgiving. We wouldn't be cooking ourselves, of course, but the previous evening we had spent a couple of hours helping Leigh Anne's mother—who would be hosting the family meal extravaganza—dice and chop.
Later on, we learned that Thanksgiving didn't mean much to Michael. Neither did Christmas, or his birthday. These days weren't for celebrating, quite the opposite. They were bleak, neutral days that only reminded him of want. "I went through a lot of those days with nothing," he told us. "A holiday was just another date to me."
We glided down the street in our BMW, a plush and comfortable silver cloud, fine with the world. But then it began to sleet, and that's when the thought whispered to Leigh Anne.
Why doesn't he have long pants on in November?
The thought grew until it forced itself into her throat and demanded to be spoken aloud.
"Turn around."
"What? Why?"
"Go back and let's see what he's doing here."
"Maybe he's going to the school."
"That's all fine, Sean, but why does he only have a T-shirt and shorts on in this weather?"
"I don't have a clue."
"TURN AROUND."
Anyone who has heard Leigh Anne Tuohy speak in that tone invariably does what he is told. Sean promptly U-turned the car right in the middle of the street, as ordered.
One of the things Mister Tuohy understands after twenty-eight years of marriage is how not to aggravate Missus Tuohy. Another thing he understands is how aggressive she is when a kid has needs—aggressive being a polite term for borderline obnoxious. Kids drive her crazy, because whatever is wrong in their lives is not their fault. Just by looking at Michael, Leigh Anne could tell that he had never hurt a soul. And he was shivering.
We pulled up beside him and Sean rolled down the driver's side window with an electric hum.
"Hey, Michael, what are you doing over here today?"
Slowly, Michael folded himself in half and bent down to the window. His expression was placid, gentle eyed. His voice when he spoke was mellow, deep chested, and surprisingly beautiful. He had a voice like a cello.
"I'm going to shoot hoops."
"Well, the gym's not open."
To Leigh Anne, leaning across from the passenger seat, it was immediately apparent that Michael was disappointed. He had an "Oh, no" kind of look. It was obvious to her that he now had no mission, no plan—and no place else to go.
"They got heat there," Michael said uncertainly.
He was going to the school because it was warm.
"Let us take you home," Leigh Anne said.
"Oh, no, no, no," he replied, with something like alarm. "I'm okay, I don't need anything."
"Well," said Leigh Anne, "why don't you at least let us take you back up to the bus stop where you got off. When does another express come by?"
"I don't know," he said.
After another minute of conversation, Michael clearly realized how persistent Leigh Anne intended to be. We simply weren't going to leave him standing there in the sleet in a T-shirt. Finally, he agreed to let us drive him to another bus stop and he climbed in the car.
There was hardly any talk as we drove. A little basketball chitchat, nothing more. What was going through our heads? Not much. All these years later, Leigh Anne is the only one of us who can recall having a specific thought that day. The first thing she thought was, "This kid needs some clothes." It was apparent that he didn't own any cold-weather garments. Next, she thought, "I wonder who would know what size he wears?" But she couldn't bring herself to ask him any questions. We didn't know anything about him or his life and we didn't want to patronize him.
We arrived at the bus stop and let Michael out. He waved good-bye. That was it, the end of the first encounter. It was nothing, and everything.
The following Monday, when school was back in session, Leigh Anne went over to Briarcrest and began asking some questions. Who was this kid? Where did he live? Where were his parents?
No one had any firm answers. The counselors knew next to nothing about him, except that he had been brought to the school in September by a youth basketball coach named Tony Henderson, with whom he had spent a few nights. Henderson had persuaded the Briarcrest administration to enroll Michael as a hardship case, on academic probation.
Leigh Anne dropped by the gym and queried Briarcrest basketball coach John Harrington, who said, "I don't know that much about him yet, but I do think he probably is lacking in clothes." Leigh Anne said, "Will you ask him if he will let me take him shopping?" John said he would approach Michael and let us know. That night John called Leigh Anne to say that Michael had agreed to let her buy him some things.
The next day, as Michael climbed into the car after basketball practice, Leigh Anne began to grapple with the scale of his potential needs. For starters, he was such a big kid that she had no idea where to look for sizes that would fit him. Surveying him, she said, "Okay. Where are we going? Do you know where we could get you some clothes?"
Michael looked back at her with an impatient, adolescent expression, like she'd just said something stupid. He sort of snorted, "Yeahhh."
"Well, I certainly can't take you to Macy's," she shot back, "so point me in the right direction."
That was the first small seed of a rapport and it grew from there. In the months ahead, our relationship with Michael would develop with a lot of sarcastic back-and-forth, and a lot of teasing, which was what we did in our home. Michael learned pretty quickly that in the Tuohy household you can say just about anything and not get in trouble.
In the weeks that followed, Michael began spending more and more time hanging around the house. But he wasn't the only one. We had supported and cared for plenty of kids besides Michael. (We still do.) A lot of them were athletes looking for a way up and out through sports, kids who were on the margin financially or academically. We had a natural sympathy for them; earlier in our lives, as we will explain, we had had much less ourselves. Besides Michael, there was a boy in the band and a young girl on the softball team. We wanted our home to be open to them and to all of our children's friends. Our house was like a hive: kids came over to share our takeout, or to be tutored by Sean, or just to play video games with S.J. Michael was different only in that he had greater needs. Truth be told, he needed more than any kid we had ever met.
But if there is a fundamental misapprehension about Michael, it's that he needed saving. As we got to know him during those first few weeks, we discovered that underneath his shyness, his foot shuffling, and his head ducking, he had a tremendous will to determine the course of his own life. If he initially seemed forlorn, and searching, that was because he felt guarded and out of place because of what he'd been through. But buried under his skin, like rock under soil, was a deep confidence, a sense of his own capacities. You saw flashes of it when he would cut his eyes up at you and smile. In that instant, you could see all that he had inside of him, as if the landscape of his mind had just been lit up by lightning.
Eventually, we came to understand that Michael was almost always the smartest person in the room. It just took a while for all of us to realize it. If anything, he was almost too sharp for his own good. As Sean would sometimes joke, "He thinks he could perform surgery with a butter knife." Miss Sue Mitchell, his academic tutor in high school and college, once said, "If Michael and I are ever in a car wreck together, please do not let him operate on me. Because he thinks he can."
The point is, Michael was always going to find a way to make it out of his situation—and nobody was going to be more responsible for his success than he was. He knew what he wanted and he found ways to attain it. "I knew there had to be something better," he said later. "I'd say, ‚ÄòMan, there has to be something else. I just have to better myself.' "
Michael came to us this great, sweet, bright kid, ready-made for success. All we did was give him a few tools and step out of the way. We allowed him to become who he was supposed to be. He was such a self-made man, in fact, that when he later saw the portrayal of himself as a boy in the movie, he said, "I was never like that." He didn't like seeing himself as he was. He argued that he never had trouble meeting people and looking them in the eye, and he all but insisted that he was born with a 3.5 grade point average. To him, none of his past happened. What he is now is what happened. Sometimes we argue with him—in all honesty, it's still hard for us to know how to treat his past—but then we let it go. His childhood is his own property. He would probably not be the success he is without the ability to transcend his past. He simply refuses to let it catch his sleeve and drag him backward.
A couple of weeks after we picked Michael up and took him to the bus stop, he spent the night on our couch for the first time. At that point he was drifting from household to household, dividing his nights between three or four different families from Briarcrest. He occasionally spent nights with a young assistant football coach named Matt Saunders. He also spent a lot of nights with a classmate named Quinterio Franklin, who lived out in Mississippi about thirty-five miles away.
When Michael stayed with us, he slept on a sofa in our game room, a broad, many-windowed space that reflects the Tuohy love of toys. It's got three different flat-screen TVs, a Pop-A-Shot basketball machine, an Xbox rig, and a view of the swimming pool outside. It's also got a large L-shaped sectional couch.
The running family joke is that Leigh Anne took Michael into her heart the first time she saw how neatly he folded everything. He treated that sofa as if it were the property of the U.S. military. After his first night with us, we all stared at the blanket folded and cornered in a neat bundle and at the sheets he had so crisply squared.
"Instant love," S.J. remarked.
No one else in the household would have done such a thing. Except for Leigh Anne, of course. The rest of us are all wrecks—which is why we need her.
Collins's room during high school was so messy that it drove Leigh Anne to distraction. Collins lived in piles. You could see the Monday pile, the Tuesday pile, and the Wednesday pile. There was the formal-wear pile and the semiformal pile. Leigh Anne would take videos of the room and show it to visitors, in hopes of embarrassing Collins into cleaning up the mess. When that didn't work, Leigh Anne would scream, "I'm going to throw her out of the house!" Finally, Collins would clean her room . . . and a couple days later, you'd see the piles on the floor again.
For all the chaos and yelling, it was apparent to any outsider who walked into the Tuohy household that we were a close family—if a functionally dysfunctional one. We didn't come home to the smell of fresh-cooked meals every night but we laughed a lot. We didn't have many Dr. Phil moments, either. We were moving too fast. Our lives were simply too hectic—who's got time for serious conflict?
Michael's first impressions of the cast of characters in our house were pretty vivid. Here's what he saw in each of us.
Leigh Anne: a former cheerleader, and five foot two of plainspoken will. She wanted to get things done and usually what she wanted to get done needed doing. If anyone tried to stop her, she'd take his arm off and walk down the street with it. She had a shiny exterior, glittering and bejeweled, that covered for tenderness. She cried on Sunday at Grace Evangelical Church when Pastor Jimmy Young read her mother's favorite scriptures or called for her father's favorite hymn, "Up from the Grave He Rose." But that didn't mean you wanted to mess with her.
"I'm all about loving and giving," Leigh Anne would say, "but I'm going to kick your butt if you do something you're not supposed to do."
Sean: gently sarcastic in tone and in manner, he pretended to be the minority partner. "I get a 49 percent vote," he'd say. In reality, he was probably the strongest person in the family. Sometimes others in the family seemed almost to ignore him, but when there was a crisis, everybody ran right to him. He oversaw dozens of fast-food franchises and he was also a broadcaster for the Memphis Grizzlies, the local NBA team. He was short on time and big on results. He refused to read the instructions to anything—he just went from A to D and didn't want to know what steps B and C were.
Collins: picture a luminous changeling with waist-length hair—and biceps. Collins—or Collie-Bell, as others in the family liked to call her—managed to be all things at once, gorgeous and athletic, sweet and a smarty-pants. She was the member of the family to whom everything came effortlessly. Before Michael arrived she was the best athlete in the house. She would master a sport, become bored, and move on. She was a gymnastics prodigy and later one of the best swimmers in the city. She triple-jumped and then won a state championship in the pole vault.
Sean Junior: An antic child, with a thick slab of black hair falling over his eyes and speech that came all in a rush. Of everyone in the family, he was the most perceptive and attuned to others. He had a strange, hyperkinetic mind; he was a king of the universe at Xbox, and he made straight As though he hardly cracked a book. Somehow, against all odds, he was also self-assured. The youngest in a frenzied household, he was always being left behind but never seemed to mind it. His good humor was bottomless. When he played basketball for a local boys club team that was made up completely of black kids, except for him, his teammates nicknamed him "Spot."
The family came and went at all hours and seemed to live completely in the moment. Sean would need five clean suits for a road trip because in addition to overseeing his restaurants, he was traveling all over the country doing his broadcasting for the Grizzlies. Collins couldn't find her pole vault gear in all the piles, Leigh Anne was juggling decorating jobs, and S.J. needed a ride somewhere. The merry-go-round never stopped—or even slowed down.
Then Michael came along. It didn't take long for him to understand what we were all saying to him: "If you want to jump into this frying pan with us, let's go!"
There was never a moment when Michael formally joined our family. It just happened. Monday became Tuesday and Tuesday became Wednesday. He'd stop by the house to hang out between classes and practices, which became hanging out to study, which became spending the night, which became staying for three nights, which became staying for a month. All of a sudden six months had gone by. At some point we realized that Michael had been living with us for a long time. It just evolved into what it was.
At first we were just too busy to stop and think about what was happening. It was only later that we understood that a mutual awakening had taken place and began to measure the size of the awkward gaps we confronted, between privileged and poor, between black and white. And only then did we begin to bridge these gaps as a family.
One of the questions we're asked most frequently is, how were Collins, S.J., and Michael able to accept one another as brothers and sister without resentment? We're not exactly sure, except that they were born good-natured, and we didn't ruin them. For some reason, our three kids aren't sitting on some psychiatrist's couch saying, "I got screwed." How did that happen? We don't know. But we do know that the three of them cared for each other as much as anybody.
One possible answer is that we all laughed a lot. Another is that Collins and S.J. were open to Michael because they hadn't been raised in total privilege and prosperity. When they were younger, they saw us struggle economically, so they grew up with some sense for how hard we worked and how fortunate they were. We also tried hard not to sequester them socially—because when you're socially sequestered, you're susceptible to stereotypes and to viewing a lot of people as "others." We never wanted our kids to view anyone as an "other."
Not long before we met Michael, we sent Collins to a program called Bridge Builders. It's a weeklong seminar during which schoolchildren from the dead opposite ends of the city are placed in dormitory rooms on the University of Memphis campus and required to get to know each other. The program is run by a Memphis nonprofit foundation called Bridges, which for eighty years has been fostering racial and social justice through a variety of community initiatives. They mentor local "peacemakers" and help young dropouts get their equivalency degrees and find jobs. "Changing Memphis One Life at a Time" is the program's slogan.
For five days, Collins—who was then a sophomore in high school—roomed with a girl from Raleigh-Egypt High School on the other side of town. Raleigh-Egypt was the opposite of Briarcrest socially and economically; it had a mixed student body and its share of problems. On one occasion, for instance, a student had slapped a teacher.
None of the kids in the program were allowed to use cell phones except in an emergency. Communication with friends on the outside was strictly forbidden, so all the kids had was each other. Through a series of encounters and counselor-led seminars, Bridge Builders knocked down social barriers and forced the kids to lean on one another. At first Collins and her roommate were all about checking out each other's hair. But as they got better acquainted, they discovered they were separated by—and curious about—some of the simplest things.
One exercise in particular made a lasting impression on Collins. A counselor gathered about fifteen or twenty kids together in a room, lined them up single-file, and turned out the lights. In the dark, the counselor asked them to close their eyes and listen to a series of questions. The students were to respond to the questions simply by taking a step to the left or right. If the answer to the question was yes, they were to step to the right. If the answer was no, they had to step to the left.
"Are you going to get a car when you're sixteen?"
Collins heard shuffling in the dark. She took a step to the right.
"Do your parents have jobs?"
More shuffling. Collins took another step to the right.
"Do you have two parents?"
Still more shuffling. Collins again moved to the right.
After a few more questions, the counselor said, "Open your eyes."
The lights flickered on.
Collins stared around the room. Almost all of the kids were on opposite sides of the room. They had been pushed to either one wall or the other by their family's circumstances. Just a few kids stood in the center.
Collins thought, "So this is why we're the way we are."
If the message you take from our experience is that a rich white family tried to save a black kid, then you will totally miss our story's meaning. It has nothing to do with where we were from, how we lived, or how much money we had. It's not important what color we were, whether we had glasses or didn't have glasses, or what kind of shoes we wore. All of that is irrelevant. Some people have tried to make it relevant—but they emphasize the wrong thing.
It so happened that when we first met him, Michael was a black, sixteen-year-old male. But those words are just adjectives that describe the person we tried to help and ultimately came to love. Making him a part of the family was an unconscious act, and it happened in a heartbeat.
It's equally true, however, that the outlook on life that allowed us to open our hearts and home to Michael was developed over the course of our lifetimes. If the impulse was sudden, the two of us had been thinking for several years about our philosophy of giving.
One of our deepest beliefs is beautifully captured in the Second Epistle of Paul to the Corinthians, or 2 Corinthians. The seventh verse of the ninth chapter of 2 Corinthians reads: "Each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver." After many years of attending church together, and helping to found one of the fastest-growing congregations in Memphis, Grace Evangelical, we came to believe that a cheerful, spontaneous offering, no matter how small, could be increased and made powerful by God. Our faith helped us understand that it was up to us to be generous and make ourselves available to be used by others.
We also became convinced that in order to really give, we had to get our hearts right. We had to learn that it was important to let go of any particular agenda. What were we hoping to achieve when we gave? We knew that it couldn't be "We're looking to go out and help a fourteen-year-old Hispanic boy today."
So many people we knew wanted to make a difference and yet they waited for a really important cause to come along. Or they waited for their big bonus check to come in. They said to themselves: "I want to save Africa." Or: "I want to save the American Indian." They had an agenda. But why is it necessary to have an agenda? Because it relieves our conscience? Or makes us look good to our bosses? Or makes us feel good about ourselves? Because it makes us more appealing to the congregation? Or gives us more points on our Visa card? Or means that the United Way is going to give us a plaque?
The more we thought about the nature of true charity, the more we realized that there's a paradox in Americans' general attitudes toward giving: as a citizenry we are at once charitable and stingy. According to the National Philanthropic Trust, 89 percent of American households give to charity. Sounds impressive, but think about this: on average, we donate just 1.9 percent of our household income. To be frank, that's miserly. Especially considering how enriched some of us are, that percentage is well below what it should be. And by biblical standards—as most Christians would undoubtedly agree—it's downright shameful.
As we reflected on our own ways of giving, we came to see that we often approached charity too formally. Giving shouldn't always be a prescribed ritual or ceremony; it doesn't need to be accompanied by properly stamped paperwork. If we worried less about the procedures and methods of giving and concentrated more on a giving state of mind, we might have more to offer than we knew.
It pained us to realize that we too often failed at the simplest kind of giving. While we were waiting for a great cause, or focused on an agenda, we chose not to notice someone standing right in front of us. We looked right past the woman in the grocery store taking things out of her basket because she was short on cash or the elderly disabled man in line at CVS.
Ultimately, we agreed that by embracing a smaller and more cheerful kind of giving, we might ease a lot of everyday problems. It took several years but slowly, informally, we found ourselves arriving at a simple conclusion: it wasn't important to do something great.
Instead, we decided to take this approach: do small things with great love. If we could do that, little opportunities to give might grow beyond our wildest dreams.
And that's exactly what happened when Michael walked into our lives. We didn't set out to take in a homeless kid. We just gave him a ride. He was the ultimate example of the Popcorn Theory.
Too often we think we lack the means to improve someone's lot. We're wrong. The Popcorn Theory doesn't oblige all of us to write impressively large checks or take in every hungry child with a face like a flame. It only requires that we perceive the person standing right in front of us.
Not long ago we heard the following story from a U.S. senator we met during a trip to Washington for an Adoption Coalition convention. There is a little-known congressional program that awards internships to young people who have aged out of the foster care system. These are kids who were never adopted and are no longer eligible for state support. They have no families and few prospects. The internship program is a way to give a few of them a decent professional start.
This senator we met during the convention employed one such young man as an intern. One morning the senator breezed in for a meeting and discovered that his intern was already in the office, reorganizing the entire mailroom. The senator said to the intern, "This is amazing—the mailroom has never looked so clean. You did a great job."
A few minutes later the senator decided to get a cup of coffee. As he passed by the mailroom, he glanced through the plate-glass window and saw that the intern had tears streaming down his face. The senator stopped short, wondering what could have upset him.
He returned to the mailroom and said, "Son, are you okay?"
"Yes," the intern answered quietly, wiping his tears away.
"Did I say something to offend you?"
"No, sir."
"Well, what's wrong?"
After a short silence, the young man said, "That's the first time in my life anyone's told me that I did something good."
A bit of attention and a kind word—that's how little it takes to affect someone's life for the better.
Thousands of people failed to notice Michael Oher, his quality and his promise. Every day, as he walked the long blocks from the bus stop to school, they drove right past him. Now, Michael was hard to miss. But nobody seemed to have noticed him. Nobody ever stopped to ask, "Where are you going?" Nobody even offered him a ride.
After we met Michael, we became very conscious of his old bus stop. Leigh Anne is a power walker who does five miles a day and, from that Thanksgiving on, whenever she strode up to that bus stop she always took note of the people who were waiting for a bus and stopped to speak to them. Sometimes she just said, "How is your day?" Or she paused to ask a few questions and find out more about them. There was an orthopedic clinic nearby and some of them were on their way to get medical care. (We never even knew the clinic was there.) Others were on their way to work at a Chick-fil-A on the nearby commercial strip. (We'd never thought about how they got to work.) Most of them were taken aback when Leigh Anne stopped for conversation. They got a look on their faces that said, "People don't usually talk to me in this part of town."
Try an experiment. At some point in the next twenty-four hours you're going to come across someone who seems of no consequence. Ask yourself if you see value in this person. It might be a young woman in a restaurant clearing off the tables. It might be the young man who parks your car in a garage. It might be someone standing on the curb at a red light or waiting at a bus stop. Pay attention to how you respond. You will glance at them, barely, and you will place some type of value on them. (You're lying if you say you don't.) You will pass right by them and if you give them a second thought, it will be this: you're better than they are.
By the time Michael was seventeen or eighteen, he might have completely fallen through the cracks, unnoticed by anyone. After all, who cared where Michael slept, what he ate, what he wore, or where he went? To be brutal about it, who really cared whether he lived or died?
Even after Michael made it to the NFL, people still didn't seem to value him, to see him, as clearly as they should have. For instance, when Sandra Bullock went on the Late Show with David Letterman, she had an exchange with Letterman that struck all of us. No doubt he didn't mean anything by it, but Letterman kept referring to "that boy in the movie." You could tell it got to Sandra. She finally said, "You mean Michael."
To us, the astonishing commercial success of The Blind Side is rooted in a kind of self-examination. Michael's story causes all of us to search our souls and it shows us how we too easily ignore, debase, and devalue each other. The experience of watching the movie is kind of like hearing a sermon when you've screwed up and suddenly the sermon seems directed right at you. But the movie also touches the part of us that wants to be better, that yearns to treat each other as family. The story it tells is a reaffirmation of the way we want to feel about who we are and the way we want our country to be.
We're often asked, wasn't it a risk to take Michael into your home? You know what? You take a bigger risk every day of your life. When you get in your car and drive across a bridge, you take a risk. You don't know if your tires are going to blow out, or if the bridge's pilings are going to hold up, or if there's a drunk driver coming at you from the other end of the bridge. But you don't stop and think about it, do you? You don't get up every morning and kick each of your tires. You don't stare at the bridge and say, "Yeah, I think it'll hold me." You go right ahead and cross that bridge without giving it a thought.
Everybody takes risks, every day. You just don't realize that's what you're doing. For us, loving Michael was like that. We just crossed the bridge without thinking about it. And the way we see it, these are the kinds of risks that all of us need to take more of.
This is not to say that we don't have problems or make mistakes. It's not like we give everything away and go around wearing sackcloth, either. Like most people, we spend too much money on too many things, from golf clubs to David Yurman earrings. All you have to do is take a look at Collins's Louis Vuitton MacBook cover—Michael bought it for her—or check out the four cars in our garage, including young S.J.'s Dodge Challenger—Michael bought it for him—to know that.
Moreover, we're the first to admit that we weren't always the most generous givers ourselves and also that our views about giving were strongly influenced by others, starting with our parents. In the chapters to come, we'll show you how giving was passed down as a legacy to us and how we're trying to pass it to our children.
As you'll see, we have our flaws. You could even say that we have major issues. But, in the end, we're like every family. We have our disagreements and our insensitivities. We don't always like how other members of the family behave. We fight. We make up. And we get over it.
That's what families do.
Excerpted from In A Heartbeat by Leigh Anne and Sean Tuohy Copyright 2010 by Leigh Anne and Sean Tuohy Published in 2010 by Henry Holt and Company All rights reserved. This work is protected under copyright laws and reproduction is strictly prohibited. Permission to reproduce the material in any manner or medium must be secured from the Publisher.
My thoughts:
When I first heard that the Tuohys would be writing a book, I was so excited. I remember seeing The Blind Side at the theater, and was an immediate fan of the movie and what this family did. I was very eager to read their side of the story, and find out how much from the movie was true, or if the truth was just stretched a bit.
Let me tell ya, these people know what it means to give of themselves without asking for anything in return. What's even more laudable is that they don't want a big spectacle made of their generosity. It's all about giving of themselves cheerfully like the Bible teaches. They've also passed this trait down to their children....all 3 of them.
While a lot of folks around Memphis have literally bashed them for their giving spirit toward Michael Oher, they don't really know the whole story. Now, I'm not an expert on the subject, but I live in the Memphis area, and I know what the majority of people are like in this city. It's very racially divided, and a huge hotspot of crime. Most people around here, whether black or white, don't readily reach out to a stranger. That's what makes what the Tuohys did so special. As a well-to-do white family living in a nice area of Memphis, they reached out and gave of their love to this one black kid. They didn't do it to get any special recognition, and they didn't do it to raise eyebrows or to get people gossiping. They did it because they realized a need was there, and they acted upon it--plain and simple.
Their example is one that we can all learn from. While they are a very comfortable family, and are able to give financially to various charities and causes, they make a point of saying that money is not the only way you can give. Sometimes, a kind smile or even saying hello to someone may be just the pick-me-up they need for that day. Or it may mean giving of yourself at a soup kitchen or a shelter. Their point is just that even though you may think you've got it good, there's plenty of people out there that have it worse than you do. That's when you have to stop and thank God, and then ask Him how you can reach out to someone in need.
If you get the opportunity, definitely get your hands on a copy of this book. If you've seen The Blind Side, awesome. It's a great movie with a great message. If you haven't seen it, read the book first so you can get the whole story. Sometimes, it's just not possible to fit a family's whole story into a 2-hour movie, especially one as crazy as the Tuohys. :o)
Diane Noble is a former double finalist for the prestigious RITA Award for Best Inspirational Fiction, a finalist for the Romantic Times Career Achievement Award and the Reviewers' Choice Award, and a three-time recipient of the Silver Angel Award for Media Excellence.
With more than a quarter million books in print, Diane feels incredibly blessed to be doing what she loves best—writing the stories of her heart.
For the last three years Diane has been honored to be lead author for the popular Guideposts series, Mystery and the Minister’s Wife (Through the Fire, Angels Undercover), and has recently returned to writing historical fiction. She is currently writing book two of her new historical series, The Brides of Gabriel. Book one is The Sister Wife.
Diane’s hometown is Big Creek, California, a tiny village nestled in the rugged Sierra Nevada back country. As a child, Diane’s older brother Dennis fueled her creative streak by entertaining her with his own gift of storytelling. Growing up without TV and iffy radio reception, Diane became an avid reader, inhaling more than one hundred novels—both YA and adult—in a single
year by the time she reached seventh grade. Her passion for reading continues to this day.
Now empty nesters, Diane and her husband live in the Southern California low desert, near a place known for the lush and beautiful gated communities of the rich and famous.
ABOUT THE BOOK
What if the man you loved told you God wanted him to take another wife? What if that woman was your best friend?
Set in the heart of the earliest days of a new nineteenth-century sect known as the Saints, The Sister Wife is a riveting account of two women forced into a practice they don't understand, bound by their devotion to Prophet Joseph Smith.
When Mary Rose marries Gabriel, neither of them could foresee how quickly the community would turn to the practice of plural marriage. Devastated when Gabe is faced with an order from the Prophet to marry her best friend, Bronwyn, Mary Rose tries to have the faith to carry through with the marriage.
But can she really be married to the same man as her very best friend? Can Mary Rose and Bronwyn face betraying both their husband and their God to do what they feel is right?
If you would like to read the Prologue and first chapter of The Sister Wife, go HERE.
Watch the book video!
My thoughts:
This was one of those books that left me speechless when I turned the last page. Last year when I read Diane's other "Mormon" book, The Veil, about the Mountain Meadows massacre, I was equally left with a speechless, almost shocked feeling about the early Mormon religion and its foundations in history. I couldn't help but feel sorry for these people who, somewhat blindly, followed this new faith and its initial teachings regarding plural wives.
Diane did an incredible job portraying the emotions in this book between Mary Rose and Bronwyn. Mary Rose loved Gabe almost from the moment she saw him, and the thought of possibly having to share him with another wife makes her blood boil. Bronwyn feels the same way regarding her marriage with Griff. So, the more people talk in their little community about the leaders taking plural wives, the more Mary Rose and Bronwyn oppose it directly to their husbands. Before the book's end, everyone has to make a choice, and the results were, at times, heartbreaking.
Without a doubt, reading this book made me more thankful that I was not born or immersed in this culture when I was growing up. There's a reason why these women feel jealousy and, at times, bitterness toward their sister-wives when their all trying to capture the attention of the same husband. I thank God that He designed the covenant of marriage for one man and one woman, not more than one woman.
If you've never read a book that dealt with this particular culture, I encourage you to do so, even if it's just to broaden your own horizons. This book, or even the other Mormon book written by Diane, gives a good taste of what goes on outside our own little worlds. It's even sadder when you stop to think that polygamy is still being practiced today, and the those involved in it have to hide from everyone else so they're not caught. That's all I need to hear to know that these people are still, sadly, following a practice that they think was designed by God.
Aside from my personal opinions of polygamy, this is definitely a 5 star read and one of the best books that Diane has ever written. I hope the wait is not too long for the next book in the Brides of Gabriel series!
She went looking for adventure . . . and found more than she bargained for.
Kate Evans is an adventurous and independent young woman with a pioneering spirit. When she leaves her home in Washington State to follow her dream of being an Alaskan bush pilot, she knows it will be an uphill battle. But she never expected it to be quite like this. As the lone woman in a man's world, she finds that contending with people's expectations is almost as treacherous as navigating the wild arctic storms.
When she crosses paths with a mysterious man living alone in the forbidding wilderness, she faces a new challenge. Can Kate break through the walls he has put up around his heart? And will fear keep her from realizing her dreams?
Book 1 in the Alaskan Skies series, Touching the Clouds will draw readers in with raw emotion and suspense, all against the stunning backdrop of the Alaskan wilds. My thoughts:
I really enjoyed this new book by Bonnie Leon. It had a plot that was different from anything else I've ever read that featured a female pilot working in Alaska. Pretty dangerous stuff, there! I liked the flow of the story where there was always something happening with Kate, whether it was something to do with her flying or with her private life. She was a very strong, determined character who wouldn't let anyone give her an answer of "no" because she's a woman.
I have to confess that while I didn't go into this book thinking there would be a romance, I really wanted something to happen in that area. For pretty much the entire length of the book, Kate has her choice of 3 different guys--one of them being a fiance that she left back home in Washington. I knew all along who she would choose, but the sequence of events that led up to it were a bit rushed and not mentioned until the very end of the book.
I also didn't really like how each person's past held them back. Kate blamed herself for the death of a very close friend, and Paul blamed himself for the death of someone very dear to him. While I understood grief needed to play a role in the story, it seemed to go on and on, and then bam!...at the end, everything's all rosy. That paired with the romance side of the story was just a little off, I guess.
In spite of all that, I'm really hoping that the next book in the series explores Kate's new relationship and whether she'll continue to fly. I'm also anxious to find out if Lily finds a special someone. Touching the Clouds gets a rating of 3.5 stars from me.
**Thanks to Revell for providing a copy to review.
Available July 2010 at your favorite bookseller from Revell, a division of Baker Publishing Group.
In 1808, when Emma meets and marries Eric Montclaire (the famed “most handsome man west of the Appalachians”), this young daughter of prominent St. Louis citizens believes a fairy tale has just begun. Instead, her husband’s angelic looks quickly prove only to mask a monstrous soul all too capable of possessive emotions and physical abuse. Praying for mercy, she is devastated when Eric insists on her joining his yearlong group expedition to the Pacific Ocean, following the trail Lewis and Clark blazed just a few years earlier. By the time cartographer Luke Bowen realizes Emma’s plight, it’s too late to easily untangle what has become an epic web of lies, theft, murder, courtroom drama, and a deep longing for love. Only God can show them the way out.
My thoughts:
I truly was captivated from the very beginning of this story with the start of new love and a beautiful wedding, but looks certainly were deceiving. What followed was a horrific tale of hidden abuse and pain experienced by Emma. Eric, her groom, was the epitome of all things hateful, and I absolutely despised his treatment of Emma. He made sure that no one knew, except her, what he was really like underneath his "beautiful" exterior.
While, by no means, I thought this was a bad book, I felt it had the potential to be just a little better than it was. For example, the ending felt rushed, and I would've liked the epilogue to have stretched out maybe 2 or 3 years rather than 7 years later. I also would've liked the book to have had more historical elements included in it, particularly about the Lewis and Clark Expedition. And unless I missed it, I think there was an important character left out of the trial at the end.
This was my first opportunity to read anything by Jamie Carie, and in spite of my mixed feelings of this book, I'm anxious to read more of her novels. Her portrayal of each character's emotions was superb, and that left me rooting for the good guys to succeed and the bad guys to fail. It also had a bit of an edgy quality about it, and that made me like it all the more. Angel's Den gets a solid 4 stars from me.
Susanne Carson's well-ordered family life is thrown into devastating chaos when Brianna, a young teen, appears on her doorstep, claiming to be the daughter of Susanne's husband, David. The revelation of David's apparent betrayal adds strain to an already fragile marriage. Will this shocking discovery drive the family apart, or will it draw them closer to God?
My thoughts:
I had really high expectations before I started this book because I've recently read both of Miralee's historical novels in the Love Finds You series. In both of those books, her stories are clear and concise and her characters multi-faceted. However, I wasn't feeling that with The Other Daughter, her first novel. I thought the characters were a little dull, with the exception of Meagan and Brianna. I also thought the story was entirely too wordy with several chapters being somewhat repetitive. It wasn't until I got about 200 pages in (315 pages total) before I was really hooked on the story, and eager to find out what would happen to Brianna.
While this is not my favorite of her novels, it does still have a good storyline that would be tough for any family to deal with in real life. I have to confess, though, that I like her style with historical novels better.
Well, guess what? I've got a giveaway for you guys! You see, there's this super sweet author that I've stumbled across lately, and I've really, really been enjoying her books. This is none other than Susan Page Davis! If you've seen my reviews lately of her two latest historical novels (here and here), you know that I've really been enjoying this era, as well as Susan's inspiration, the Ladies Shooting Club! And now, Susan, being the sweet person that she is, has offered to give away one signed copy each of The Sheriff's Surrender and The Gunsmith's Gallantry to two lucky people!
Here's what we're going for here:
1. You need to leave a comment on this post with your email address stating which book you'd like to sign up for. You can sign up for one or both--your choice. If you do not leave your email address, you will NOT be signed up for the giveaway.
2. US entries only.
3. Only one winner per book, and only one book per winner. In other words, each book will be going to two different people.
4. Contest open until 11:59pm, July 17, 2010. Winner will be announced on Sunday, July 18.
5. What are you waitin' for?!?! Get to commentin'! :o)
Can the shy gunsmith and the widowed storekeeper find love when everything around them is in an uproar?
Hiram Dooley has problems—women problems! His sister’s about to leave him to get married (if Sheriff Ethan Chapman ever proposes); his sister-in-law, Rose, thinks Hiram should marry her, since they’re both widowed; and the woman he truly loves, Libby Adams, is blind to his regard.
The schoolmarm has a different problem—a man claiming to be her uncle came to Fergus. . .and then disappeared. Did her father kill him? Can the Ladies’ Shooting Club once again ride to the rescue?
My thoughts:
Once again, I loved visiting this little town of Fergus, Idaho. It's a little place where everybody knows everybody, and they all want to see each other succeed. Of course, there's a few ruffians and troublemakers, but between the town sheriff and the Ladies Shooting Club, they don't stay around for long!
If you haven't read book one in this series, I highly suggest that you start there first. The Sheriff's Surrender is a good introduction to the whole town and its citizens, and it's got a good mystery to go along with it. The Gunsmith's Gallantry was a little different. It dealt more with getting to know the characters more which I really appreciated. The only thing I would've liked more of was Hiram! Bless his heart, he's the most soft-spoken character I've ever come across in any book, much less in real life, and it's almost unnatural to me for someone to speak so little. Oh well, guess that's what gives him his charm. :o)
I also liked reading more about Isabel and her father, Cy. While I didn't really care for either of them in book one (Cy still wasn't a favorite of mine in book 2), I genuinely cared about Isabel's future in this book. I can't wait to see if things will turn out like I'm expecting them to between her and a certain gentleman in book 3.
All in all, if you like a good western story that's got a good dose of something from almost every genre, then you can't go wrong with the Ladies Shooting Club series. I'm so glad that I only have to wait until November to read book 3, The Blacksmith's Bravery!
4 Stars
**Many thanks to the author for sending me a copy to review.
**Click here to read my review of book one, The Sheriff's Surrender.
You know, I think I'm a glutton for punishment when it comes to reading challenges. I saw today that the next 4 month reading challenge has been issued, so I plan to "challenge" myself yet again. :o) Here's a list of what I'm aiming to read between July and October:
5 Point Challenges
Read a chick lit book
Read a name with a proper name in the title - A Rose for Melinda by Lurlene McDaniel--7/8/2010
Read a historical fiction book - The Gunsmith's Gallantry by Susan Page Davis--7/5/2010
Read a book with a one word title - Predator by Terri Blackstock--7/24/2010
Read a book made into a movie
10 Point Challenges
Read a book with a Civil War theme (any country) - The Seeker by Ann Gabhart--9/27/2010
Read a Biblical fiction book - Pearl in the Sand by Tessa Afshar--10/29/2010
Read a hardcover book - Adam by Ted Dekker--8/3/2010
Read a book about a king or queen - The Mark of Salvation by Carol Umberger--8/14/2010 (features King Robert of Scotland and King Edward of England)
Read a book set in France
15 Point Challenges
Read a book by an author you’ve never read before - Touching the Clouds by Bonnie Leon--7/13/2010
Read a biography or autobiography - Shattered Dreams by Irene Spencer--7/16/2010
Read a book with a number in the title - I Am Nujood, Age 10, and Divorced by Nujood Ali--10/17/2010
Read any book and then post a review - Angel's Den by Jamie Carie--7/11/2010
Read any book but read it outside
20 Point Challenges
Read a book in a series AND the one after it - Brink of Death and Stain of Guilt by Brandilyn Collins--7/26/2010 and 8/7/2010
Read a book that was a winner of the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction
Read a book considered Christian fiction - Her Daughter's Dream by Francine Rivers--8/27/2010
Read a book from The Modern Library Top 100
Read a book by an author born in July, August, September or October - The Sister Wife by Diane Noble--7/6/10 (Author's birthday is July 9)
I didn't do too bad, I guess, on my last attempt at this, scoring 165 points. Coulda done better, but some of the book choices on the list just didn't seem to make it into my hands. This round, though, seems right up my alley because there are several Christian fiction options....woohoo!
Yay!!! I'm so excited to get my second opportunity to review some Paula Deen products! :o)
Thanks to the people at CSN, who have everything available under the sun from lights to purses, you can pretty much find anything you need for your house or for a nice gift for someone. And this time around, I'll be able to add to my collection of Paula Deen items. I was so impressed with her stoneware products the first time around because they cook evenly, and are easy-peasy to clean. Even better--they are dishwasher safe!
Now, here's where it gets dangerous. See, I've been on a diet for a week now, and doing pretty good with it, too, if I do say so myself. I've been able to resist the temptation of Dr. Peppers, chocolate, and bread in all its forms. So, it's gonna be really tough to review a pie plate (just pick any kind of pie...they're all good), a 9X9 baker (the perfect size for my cornbread recipe), and the mixing cup that measures out flour nearly every time I bake something. But hey, hubby's not on a diet, so I guess he'll just have to eat all the food!
In case you missed the last review of Paula Deen goodies, click here to read about my first adventure! And be watching in the next few weeks for my review (and um, how I hope to stay away from temptation). :o)
Want to see what up next in the world of inspirational fiction? Head on over to Inspys.com to check out this new award, and nominate a book or apply to be a judge!
About the book:
